#billy dunne x reader angst

[nomorespahgetti]

[mrsnancywheeler]

Okay the same reader as the fight one but imagine if someone in the band sees how much they fight and offers to take her off his hands…or goes to her about it

long blurb with mentions of drinking, drugs, smoking, and nsfw topics

me about to write another long ass blurb, but thinking about eddie pining after reader and always watching, thinking about how she could do so much better then billy fucking dunne

you're always fighting and leaving until billy calls you back or you get bored again so you show up. rarely is there apologies, sometimes he tells you that your his muse and he needs you around as some sort of half apology to say you're not replaceable with just any groupie. but you let it work on you because when things are good, they're good, he's kind, and loving, so sweet, but the bad is the worst it possibly could be. and for how you tell yourself you've always known he wouldn't pick you forever, wouldn't settle down and that you were okay with that, you just know you're lying to yourself. because when you find out that last fight you had where you stomped off afterwards and spent a couple of hours sitting in a diner crying, billy was busy getting sucked off my some other groupie, you think this might be your limit. for all you've said you'd never actually even dreamed of even looking at anyone else and the pain in your chest is so immense. it only gets worse as you listen to billy and the rest of the band perform some song her wrote about you, a confirmation of his feelings without him having to commit face to face with you. it makes your blood boil when he's singing about how regardless of everything he'll always pick you, always want you.

so when everyone finishes and he's smiling looking over at you with a, "so, what'd you think, baby?" and you pull out that slow clap you hope he knows he's done fucked up because the rest of the band sure does. and he doesn't ask if you're okay or look too concerned, just annoyed, scoffing slightly, "what now?"

"I think you're a liar and the whole thing is fucking bullshit!" You announce

"don't do this right now, we're trying to rehearse." his frustration only serves as fuel to your fire, and you look around the room to see the awkward glances around the room, eddie glaring holes into the back of billy's head.

"what? do you want me to say you did a great job, give you a kiss and hug, and then scamper off so some other girl can suck you off? is that what you want billy?"

"not right now. if you're not gonna sit there and do what you're good at, then get out of the studio. go spend some of your daddy's money, you'll get over it."

his dismissivness makes you want to scream. how dare he. why did you have to fall for someone like him? "like you've said, I'm sure you can find some other groupie to give you praise and attention. you're the fucking worst, billy."

you're storming out of the room, followed by his voice, "you're not the only pretty girl! one of so fucking many!"

you don't know how long you've spent sitting on the cold cement, back up against the building as you smoke a cigarette. trying desperately not to cry because you just want him to love you the way movies told you men loved. but this wasn't a movie, he was a fucking rockstar and you were in fact just another groupie who he was sick of. the way you wanted to cry was embarrassing and you quick wiped away any stray tears when you heard footsteps approaching.

"mind if I join you?" and there was eddie, trying to give a comforting smile. you shook your head and he sat down, your offered him a cigarette which he took, for a while it was silent. "you deserve better."

you laughed, "yeah, maybe." no, you knew you did, but you didn't want better. you were too attached to billy dunne. "did he call some kind of break or did you just storm out? bet he'd love that."

eddie chuckled, he loathed billy, so the latter would've been just fine with him. "called a break." you thought about how right now billy was probably busy getting fucked by some other girl, some other groupie who had patiently waited her turn. you didn't mean to sniffle, but you did. suddenly eddie's lips were on yours, you wanted to lean into the soft, loving comfort but you couldn't. it felt wrong.

"eddie-" you muttered as you pulled away.

"he doesn't see you like I do, you deserve to be treated so much better, and he's stupid for not being able to see that. just because he's the lead singer doesn't mean you have to be stuck as his groupie, especially when he treats you like you're disposable."

"eddie, I can't do that to him. it's wrong."

"he does everything he can with other girls except fucking them, you're allowed to have something."

"well, I'm just me and he's billy goddamn dunne."

"he's just billy dunne, and you're strong, perseverant, beautiful, funny, compassionate, the whole damn package." you snort through the laughter which makes him smile, and you feel bad because he's sweet, you like him, but you've had a taste of billy and are desperately trying to hold onto ship. "he's too lucky, let me give you what you deserve-"

"what's going on?" billy's voice interrupts the rest of eddie's speech that you honestly might have fallen for, if you focused on the actually being able to constantly feel appreciated by some someone. eddie glares at the other man.

"we're talking." you say softly as billy walks closer. he holds a hand out to you expectantly.

"come inside with me, baby. let's talk in private." eddie's eyes are urging you to refuse, to stay with him, but you don't heed the look. so you take billy's hand a and let him lift you off the ground.

and it's hard to miss the way eddie gazes at you after the that, the way he comforts you post arguments and reminds you not to take it to heart, and you feel bad that the way you burn for billy is a forest fire compared to the way you burn for eddie. and he spends his days waiting for you to realize billy was never worth the struggle and to have him instead.

@nomorespahgetti

[ssweeterthanfiction]

Wait for your love.

content warnings: mentions of drugs and alcohol, age gap, gaslighting, billy being TOXICCCCC, mental health issues, allusions of an ED

↳ currently playing ;

Lust for Life - 1977

0:56 ——•———————— 3:24

↺       <<          ll          >>     ⋮≡

Y/N L/N’s sophomore album, Lust for Life debuted in February of 1977. Charting at number one, the title track Lust for Life ft. Billy Dunne became her second hit single, and the demand for more was at an all time high.

Y/N: “Everyone…loved the album.”

“It had a total of twenty tracks. For the most part…it did not sound like a rock album. Teddy and the other executives were afraid that if I strayed too far from my ‘original’ sound the album wouldn’t sell. But, I still got some rock aspects into it.”

“Three tracks were full rock songs. Those were my favorite.

“But they weren’t…everyone’s favorite.”

“Everyone’s favorite was Lust for Life.”

“That’s probably one of my least favorites.”

🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

It had been a week since the album dropped, and you should’ve been ecstatic. It was doing well on the charts, all the radios were playing it, you had interviews and performances scheduled.

You should’ve been happy.

But you weren’t.

Instead, you were miserable.

Billy had been freezing you out for days, and you didn’t know why. It all started when he came back home one night, completely pissed off. It was a complete 180 of how he was acting just a few weeks ago.

You heard the door open that then shut. “Billy?..” you say groggily, rubbing your eyes as you get up from the bed. “Billy is that you?”

You stumble into the kitchen and see Billy standing in front of the counter. Not thinking anything of it, you wrap your arms around him. But he’s quick to push you away.

“Billy? What’s wrong?” you say in a concerned voice. “Nothing…just…go back to bed. I’ll be there soon,” he says, waving you away.

“Billy please talk to me, what’s-“

“God can you be anymore annoying? Just back off okay?” he says as he turns to face you, clearly very annoyed.

You look at him with confusion in your eyes. You hadn’t done anything to him. But then you caught a glimpse of his neck and collar.

Oh.

“Sorry..” you mumble out as you start to head back to the bedroom.

You cried yourself to sleep that night. Why did he do that? Did he think you weren’t enough? Were you not enough for him? Were you not pretty enough? Thin enough?

“Why can’t I be enough?”

🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Y/N: “….I think a lot of people forget that I was in my early 20s when I started dating Billy. Well…dating isn’t the best word for whatever we had going on, but…whatever.”

“But like I said, a lot of people forget that. They forget that I had just turned 20 and Billy was in his late twenties. It doesn’t sound like that big of a difference on paper, but…it was. It really was.”

Billy: “I never had an issue with our gap, she was…mature for her age. And plus it’s not like it was uncommon for a younger girl to be with a slightly older guy, that’s just how things were back then.”

“….But I won’t deny it, I definitely…didn’t treat her as well as I should have.”

🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

You were both on set for the Lust for Life music video. You and Billy. For the song you wrote together, for the song you both sang together.

Everyone could feel the tension between the two of you the minute you both arrived on set. Thankfully, you were both whisked away to wardrobe and makeup.

And thank goodness you both had separate rooms.

“Y/n we’re ready for you” you hear your manager’s assistant say.

Your stylist puts the final touches on you and send you out.

You were in a simple red dress with long sleeves with white lace gloves and a matching red headband in your hair while Billy has on an all black suit and his signature sunglasses on.

God he looks good.

“Alright, Y/n, Billy! Take your places and we’ll start rolling!”

You both nod and take your places.

“Y/n, you both are singing live, right?”

“Yup!” you call out from your position in front of your microphone.

“Alright people! Final checks!”

While they were doing final checks, you glance over at Billy and then quickly glance back down to your shoes when you realize he was looking at you.

“Alright! Y/n, ready?”

You nod and give a thumbs up.

“Billy?”

He nods.

“And we are rolling in five, four, three, two…”

It was all going smoothly, perfect even.

Except when it came to do the part with you and Billy singing to eachother.

🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Y/N: “I think…it was 15 takes…maybe. Could’ve been more”

Billy: “It was 25 takes. I’ll remember that forever.”

🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

“CUT!!” your director shouts, groaning in frustration. “Everyone…take five..ten. Take ten!”

“You’re messing everything up” Billy murmurs as he walks past you.

“How am I messing everything up?” you say as you start following him.

“You’re starting too early, you’re going ahead of the backing vocals, plus you’re standing way too close to me.”

You look at him with confusion in your eyes, you weren’t starting too early, you started perfectly on cue.

“What- What is your problem?”

“What do you mean.”

“This. This whole attitude! I didn’t do anything to you!”

“Lower your voice babydoll”

You scoff, how can he have the audacity to call you ‘babydoll’ right now?

“No! Not til you tell me what’s wrong!”

Billy groans and grabs your wrist, dragging you behind one of the trailers.

You yank your hand away from him and cross your arms.

“Billy, please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something?”

“Yeah, you’re being fucking annoying that’s what.”

You look at him with hurt in your eyes, what the fuck.

“You’re always so clingy, always acting like some kid that’s desperate for attention. It’s fucking annoying.”

You don’t know what to say, he’s never had a problem with you being clingy, but you haven’t even been clingy to him these past few weeks. You’ve been giving him his space.

“Oh. Sorry…” you murmur out, looking down at your shoes as you hold back tears. Billy rolls his eyes and then walks off, leaving you behind the trailer. And the minute he leaves, you breakdown in tears, why couldn’t you be enough for him?

🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Y/N: “I really hated that shoot. The video came out…fine but…I hated shooting it.”

“Not just because of the whole…Billy ordeal, it was just- a stressful shoot.”

“But after the video aired, it took off, I got a spot on Saturday Night Live because of it.”

“But…like the video…I-I didn’t really like the performance I gave.”

🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

You had just come off stage after successfully performing ‘all-american bitch’. You were covered cake, but the audience absolutely loved it.

Now you had to get ready for the second performance, a mashup performance of Lust for Life and Groupie Love with Billy and the band.

Once you were done in hair and makeup, you went to go look for Billy, you wanted him to see you in your little white lace dress and with the daisies in your hair, and you wanted to just check up on him.

As you approached his dressing room you could hear soft moans and groans.

A feeling of dread filled your body. Hesitantly, you opened the door slightly, your stomach churned as you saw clothes scattered all over the floor. Then you opened the door all the way.

He was hooking up with some random girl.

“Billy?” you say softly, frozen in place.

Billy froze.

“Shit…” he said under his breath as he pulled away from the girl.

“Sorry…I-I didn’t mean- I- w-we’re on in five.”

You quickly closed the door and ran down the hall back to your green room, you heard him screaming your name while you did.

The minute you got to your room, you locked the door and broke down. Then you spotted a fresh bottle of champagne placed on your vanity, it was probably for after the show…but the temptation was too high.

You grab it and open it, drinking the liquid straight from the bottle.

🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Y/N/: “I don’t remember it that well, the performance. My words were all slurred, my vision was blurry, the lights were too bright, the sound was way too loud, I couldn’t focus, I was…afraid and heartbroken.”

“The funny thing is…people…liked it. They enjoyed the performance. Hell…a lot of people thought and still think the runny mascara was a style choice….they didn’t know I was crying for over fifteen minutes. They didn’t know we had to delay our performance because of it.”

“It was the first time I caught Billy in the act of cheating. It wouldn’t be the last. It was the first time I also performed drunk. I wouldn’t be the last either.”

“But I still stayed with Billy.”

A/N: REJOICE ITS FINALLY OUT!!!! IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO SO SO LONG BUT ITS FINALLY HERE!!!

thank u so much for reading and for being patient guys 😭💕 hope u all enjoyed!!! WE ARE SO BACK

[kaldurahms-lover]

i need a long angsty daisy jones and the six fanfic where the reader is like billy’s tour girlfriend and she’s so hopelessly in love with him, looking at him through rose colored glasses and just seeing this perfect guy, having no idea about camila.

until she does.

and obviously she has to break it off immediately because she doesn’t want to be the other woman. she didn’t ever want to be in this position.

and so she goes to graham, and she gets camila’s address to write her letter, and it has to be a letter because she knows if she calls then camila will just hang up

because that what she would do.

and the letter is so heartfelt and warm and apologetic and very obviously tear stained when camila gets it that she just can't bring herself to be mad at this poor girl who got just as cheated as she did. at this poor girl who broke i up with billy when she found out bc she knew what he did was wrong

and so camila writes back, and a friendship forms. an unexpected friendship, but a friendship nonetheless

and soon enough, once the baby is born, the reader finds herself driving across states to come see camila and julia because dammit billy is in rehab and she wants more help than just her mom and she wants to meet her friend she’s been calling and writing and sending photos to and from this whole time

and you know, the reader stays longer than she means to

long enough that something more than friendship is buzzing between them

long enough that the reader has taken billy’s place in bed next to camila

long enough that when billy comes home from rehab, she’s holding julia while camila buzzes her lips against the baby’s stomach.

obviously he’s flabbergasted because what the FUCK is his affair partner doing in his house with his wife and baby and why does his mother in law look totally unphased….

reader simply kissing cami’s temple and handing her julia, saying she’ll give them some time alone because she understands that they need it

GOD having to have the talk about what that means for the relationship and everything i’d lose my mind

both of you eventually coming to the decision you’ll give billy one more chance

and once he gets over that fear he’s a good dad. a good husband, a good boyfriend.

and then daisy fucking jones shows up.

that’s all i’ve thought out so far

[meropegaaunt]

WEST COAST

Billy Dunne x reader

Implied eventual Graham Dunne x reader

Summary: The love between two best friends toes the line between platonic and romantic.

Warnings: Kid on kid violence, fighting, angst, alcohol, and attempted kissing

Word Count: 2,359 words

© Meropegaaunt 2023

GRAHAM DUNNE (lead guitar, The Six): Growing up, Y/N and Billy were, like, best friends. I mean, God, they were close, so close you never saw one without the other.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

You, Y/N L/N, grew up in a small suburb outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Said suburb was small, quaint, filled with red-brick houses and white picket fences. The kind of place where everyone knew everyone. The rich thrived, having two or three properties in their name and far too many zeros in their checking accounts, but the majority struggled to make ends meet, to even keep a roof over their heads. You were part of the majority, but your father, F/N L/N, did everything in his power to ensure that you lived in blissful ignorance, unaware of the struggles that weighed so heavily upon his shoulders. He had two jobs, one as a music teacher and one as a bar manager. Endless hours had been spent slaving away at those jobs in an attempt to ensure you were given every opportunity to succeed, and luckily, you were.

Truth be told, you had not the faintest idea of your dire living circumstances, because your father showered you in love and affection, making everything, even the most mundane tasks, seem like an adventure. He had a way with people, a way that he passed on to you, which was why at school, you got on well with your classmates. You got on best with Billy and Graham Dunne, though, two brothers that shared your true love: music.

(Your friendship did not have an easy beginning, though. Not by a long shot, because even at a young age, Billy had trouble letting people close. Your first encounter with him was in passing. Names had been exchanged, but there was no inkling of what would bloom between the two of you. That inkling did not come until a boy two years older than you and Billy and four years older than Graham came around looking to give Billy a hard time. He found Graham instead, who became his victim of circumstance. You happened upon the scene just in time to see the boy deliver a harsh kick to Graham’s ribs, and that sight alone was enough for you to see red and abandon all common sense. It mattered not that he was your superior in both age and size. All that mattered was that Graham, who had only ever shown you kindness and civility, was frightened and bleeding and needed help, which was why you threw caution to the wind, ran forward, and thundered, “Hey, that’s my friend you’re kicking!” In an instant, you two were on the ground, grappling violently atop the dirt path. The boy pawed at your face, pulling at your locks while you pressed on his throat. His efforts broke your skin and knocked your nose askew, yet your hold stayed firm, just as F/N had shown you. You hunched forward, pale with rage as he writhed about, trying futilely to get free. Each action made his throat tighter, though, so his attempts hastily slowed down. He gasped, his eyes growing hazy from the wild thrumming of the blood in his head. It was only after oxygen escaped him for a beat that you lessened your grip and retreated with Graham, though, your feet flying over the earth until you found Billy. That day, covered in blood and dirt, he deemed you all right.)

Seeing your love for music, your father found and salvaged an old guitar for you, a Gibson Les Paul that had seen far better days. It had suffered much hurt and misuse, but he searched out alternatives for each decaying piece, eventually returning it to its former glory. You basked in its glory, showing it off to the Dunne brothers with stars in your eyes and a smile that rivaled the sun in intensity. They had an old Silvertone guitar, so the three of you began learning how to play, going through much trial and error before discovering what worked and what did not.

Your musical range evolved as you entered your teenage years, especially when Billy and Graham’s mother, Marlene, bought them an old Strat. Armed with three guitars, you delved into songwriting, thus laying the foundation for what eventually became one of the world’s most beloved rock bands.

You were there at the nanscene of the Dunne Brothers band, long before its first additions — drummer Warren Rhodes, bassist Chuck Williams, and rhythm guitarist Eddie Roundtree — were brought on. You did not have a designated title, though. Instead, you played whatever part was needed, whether that be a singer, guitarist, or keyboardist. The band worked whatever gig it could, whether that be at house parties, seedy bars, or dance clubs.

Around that time, you had noticed that you had physically changed, had grown into your own. Your friends had, too, but you did not realize until one of the nights when the band had played at a seedy bar. There had been various acts of violence committed at said bar, but this particular night, a man who was out of his mind on drugs had started swinging. Hands had been thrown, landing hits upon bar attendants, but then, he had come for you . . . You had not seen it coming, too engrossed in your music, which was why there was no time for you to react, to defend yourself. Your eyes snapped up, catching sight of the fist flying your way, but it never made contact with your face. Before it could, Billy collided with the man, hitting him with enough force that he was sent crashing to the ground.

You blinked once, twice, thrice, pure, unfettered shock keeping you rooted in place. It was only when a warm, familiar hand landed upon your shoulder that you snapped out of it, the shock wearing off. “Thanks, Billy,” you breathed, your eyes rising to meet his emerald ones. “I owe you one.”

“It’s nothing,” he shrugged, a mischievous look flitting across his face. “Couldn’t let him take you out before I do.”

“Ah, that’s not happening,” you remarked, unable to conceal your amusement. He had tried to sweet talk you before, had even gone as far to use his go-to pick-up line: If you let me take you out I’ll write a song about you. The pick-up line had not worked, though, for you had shot back: No, thanks, Dunne. If I want there to be a song about me, I’ll write it myself. “The day we start dating bandmates is the day the Dunne Brothers is over.”

Perhaps if he was being serious, you would consider going on a date with him, but you truly believed that he was not, that he was simply being his typical coquettish self. Despite this, in the future, you will think that this perhaps was the moment when you first realized that you loved him, that you were in love with him . . .

─── ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ───

BILLY DUNNE (lead singer, The Six): We got hired for this wedding. It was a big deal. A wedding meant we were gonna be heard by, you know, a hundred people. I think I was nineteen.

We had auditioned for this couple with our best song. It was this slower, folkier song Y/N and I had written called “Nevermore.” Just thinking about it makes me cringe. Truly. I was writing about the Catonsville Nine and things like that. I thought I was Dylan. But we got this gig.

And about halfway through our show at this wedding, this fifty-something guy catches Y/N on a water break and pulls them onto the dance floor. I see and think, Does this guy know what a creep he looks like? And then I realize it’s my dad.

GRAHAM: Our father was there, all over Y/N, completely unaware he was making them uncomfortable. I realized it before Billy, I think. Recognized him from the pictures our mom kept in the shoe box under her bed.

Y/N L/N (singer, The Six): I didn’t originally know it was Mr. Dunne that had pulled me onto the dance floor that night. I mean, plenty of older men go after younger people. It’s not great, it’s just how it is. Not wanting to start a scene, I danced with him until Billy came down off the stage and pulled me away. Afterward, he told me who he was, and it just . . . made me sick. Mr. Dunne looked right at Billy, his son, and didn’t recognize him. How is that possible? How is that fair?

BILLY: I couldn’t believe it. He’d been gone ten years by that point. And he was supposed to be in Georgia. The asshole was just standing in the middle of the dance floor, no idea his sons were up onstage or that he was dancing with their best friend. I put an end to that. I got off stage and pulled them apart. Y/N was confused as hell, but I explained who he was.

GRAHAM: Billy asked a few people at the wedding about him. Turns out our father had been living a few towns over. Friends with the bride or something. Y/N was furious, saying, “You know what, fuck him. You guys are the best. If he can’t see that, that’s his problem, not yours.” They were right. He was a drunk asshole anyway. So good riddance to him.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Seeing the response — or lack thereof — from Mr. Dunne infuriated you. He had laid eyes upon his sons for the first time in a decade, and there had been no recognition, no remorse. He had helped bring them into the world, had raised them for five and seven years respectively, but then, when given the opportunity to reconnect, he treated them like strangers, like they meant nothing.

Your father had loved you dearly, had done everything in his power to protect you, which was why such a poor excuse of a man was hard to wrap your head around. You tried, though, even going as far as to snag a bottle of whiskey in an attempt to lessen your inhibitions, to think outside of the box. Unfortunately, the whiskey did not offer any answers about Mr. Dunne, but it did cause your budding feelings for Billy to spill out, to make themselves known.

He too had taken in alcohol, had consumed beer after beer, but Billy, for a reason you did not know, held his alcohol better. That was why when you took a seat next to him with a half-empty bottle of whiskey in hand, he looked relatively put together. You, on the other hand, looked simultaneously attractive and disheveled. It was paradoxical, but the sight of you, with your warm cheeks and wild hair, lit a fire within him, a fire whose flames threatened to consume him, to devour him whole.

“Billy,” you breathed his name, leaning through the dark so that your faces were mere millimeters apart, causing your breaths to mingle. “Your dad is a real prick, but I’m — I’m glad you’re not like him. You’re a real great guy. The best.”

“I’m not,” he refuted, knowing that your tongue had been loosened by the alcohol. When sober, you were generous with your words, but not like this. Not to this degree. “I’ve made some dumbass decisions. You know that better than anyone—“

“And yet, I still love you,” you cut him off, leaning impossibly closer. You had contemplated kissing him a handful of times since that night in the bar, but had yet to work up enough nerve to do so. Now, when you were feeling brazen, it would be so quick, so easy. All you had to do was bridge the gap between your faces . . . You made to do so, to press your lips to his, but he pulled away, moving out of your range. A mixture of hurt and confusion crossed your features then, followed by uncertainty. “Do you not want to—“

“Not like this,” he shook his head, because even though the flirtatious comments sent your way held truth, he would not allow you to make such a drastic move when drunk. Not with him. “If you remember this tomorrow, we can figure things out, Y/N.”

In a perfect world, you would remember this conversation the next day. You and Billy would communicate and sort out your feelings together, but this world was not perfect. In this world, you did not remember your advances on Billy, which was why when he met the foxy, dark-haired Camila Martinez, he pursued her . . .

─── ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ───

WARREN RHODES (drummer, The Six): In the summer and fall of ‘69, we were all really starting to get laid, man. And Billy was taking himself off the market. We’d all be with chicks and he’d be sitting there, smoking a joint, having a beer to keep himself busy. I came out of a girl’s room one time, zipping my pants up, and Billy was sitting on the sofa, watching Dick Cavett. I knew Y/N loved Billy. Hell, by that point, I think everyone except Billy knew. So I said, “Man, you gotta ditch that girlfriend.” Don’t get me wrong; we all liked Camila, she was foxy and she’d tell you your business right to your face, which I liked. But c’mon. Y/N isn’t the sort of person you want to miss out on an opportunity with.

Y/N: I wanted to hate Camila. It would have been easier that way, if she was terrible to Billy, if she made him unhappy, but she didn’t. She grounded him, made him a better version of himself, so there really was no choice but for me to take a step back, to put some distance between Billy and I.

GRAHAM: It killed Y/N to give Billy and Camila space, but they did. Because they loved him, and that . . . that took a lot of selflessness. I think, maybe, that might have been when I started falling in love with them.

[allisluv]

daisy jones being enamoured with you while she is drunk or high

pairing: daisy jones x ex!fem!reader

content warnings: angsty fluff, daisy being stoned out of her god-damn mind. mentions of past established relationship but both daisy and reader still have feelings for each other. loosely based off the song "why'd you only call me when you're high" by arctic monkeys

word count: 240

it's early in the morning when the landline to your hotel room starts ringing. you roll over onto your side, the numbers 03:56 flashing in red letters on the digital clock. you rub your knuckles into your eyes to rid them of sleep and blindly fumble for the black phone, holding the receiver up against your ear. "hello?"

"hi, baby!"

you blink once, then twice, then three times for good measure. "daisy?"

"yeah, it's me, baby."

"why are you calling me? it's nearly four in the damn morning!" you snap as tiredness gets the better of you.

you hear daisy sigh on the other end of the phone. "jus' wanted to hear your voice, 's all. i missed you and your pretty face. like, you know i'm in love with you, right? like so in love."

you exhale a breath and run a trembling hand through your hair. "why are you still up, daisy? we have a show in eight hours."

"can't sleep without you here," daisy admits shakily. "like i said, i miss you."

now it's your turn to sigh. after a beat of silence, you finally break and say, "well, are you gonna keep me on the phone all night or come over?"

"really?" daisy yawns through the line.

"yeah, well, i don't want you falling asleep on stage. just don't make a habit out of this, alright? we're still over."

daisy chuckles. "whatever you say, sweetheart."

[venusbyline]

Hey guys, I'm Vênus (she/her). This is my new ff blog and requests are already open!

I really like writing dark, smut and/or angst contents for s/o x female readers.

Almost all the characters and artists I'll write for are tagged. Feel free to send me your writing requests on my ask. (ps¹: practically i'll write for all Jacob Elordi and Ryan Gosling's characters, there just wasn't enough space in the tags).

So don't be shy... I'm a member of the "toxic characters stan" too <3

ps²: some characters besides the other characters of Ryan Gosling and Jacob Elordi that I didn't put in the tags but that I can also write for:

Scream: Ethan Landry, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher.

Euphoria: Rue Bennet, Jules Vaughn, Ethan Lewis, Lexi Howard, Chris McKay, Fezco.

Hunger Games: Lucy Gray Baird, Katniss Everdeen, Sejanus Plinth, Johanna Mason, Treech, Clemensia Dovecote, Tigris Snow, Haymitch Abernathy.

MCU: Tom Holland!Peter Parker & Andrew Garfield!Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff.

Daisy Jones & The Six: Eddie Roundtree, Daisy Jones, Camila Dunne.

The Vampire Diaries: Stefan Salvatore, Damon Salvatore, Silas, Rebekah Mikaelson, Katherine Pierce.

Margot Robbie: Barbie, Harley Quinn.

Gossip Girl: Chuck Bass, Nate Archibald, Carter Baizen, Blair Waldorf.

YOU: Love Quinn, Joe Goldberg.

Harry Potter: Cedric Diggory, Hermione Granger, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Sirius Black.

Grey's Anatomy: Jackson Avery, Derek Shepherd, Mark Sloan, Alex Karev.

Outer Banks: Rafe Cameron, JJ Maybank.

Anyway, more characters can be added here over time!

[its-vannah]

Last Forever | Eddie Roundtree x Reader

Request from anonymous: hii!! i love your eddie fics, you’re an amazing writer! i was wondering if i could put in a request where eddie and reader are both in the band and as they’re up on stage they look at each other while performing (kinda like billy and daisy i guess?). Karen and Camila notices this and they talk about it with reader and reader is in denial because her and eddie are good friends and she doesn’t want to jeopardize that (they became friends over their hatred of billy😭). but they end up together in the end though? thank you💕💕

Warnings: Angst, fluff, profanities, kissing

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

Everytime you walk out on stage, you instantly get high off of the thrill of seeing the crowd bursting with energy. The audience cheers as the band walks out onstage, jumping up and down while waving their hands in the air. You'll never get tired of this. To think you had once believed you'd never make it out of Pittsburgh—now you were performing in front of a sold-out concert in the heart of New York.

You thought back to your first performance, back when the band was called "The Dunne Brothers." It seemed crazy to you, now, that you were so nervous to go out on stage. There were, at most, thirty people who couldn't care less about what you guys were playing.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Holding your tambourine tightly in your hand, you peeked your head out from behind the curtains, tapping your foot against the wooden floor. You were nervous, anyone in the band could see that.

You felt the warmth of a hand on your back, an arm slinging over your shoulders. Turning your head, your eyes meet Eddie's.

A forced smile found itself on your face as he spoke, "Nervous?"

"Can you tell?" You asked, bowing your head.

"Only a little," He smiled, "Look, it's going to be okay. Just pretend they aren't out there. They don't give a damn what we're doing anyway. This is just practice for when we make it big."

Taking a deep breath, your eyes met his again, your foot going still, "Thank you."

"You're going to do great, Y/N."

"You are, too."

Sure enough, Eddie was right. Barely anyone in the crowd, except one woman who was drunk off her ass, cared about what you guys were playing. A few people swayed to the music, but few looked up on stage.

While singing backup, gently tapping the tamorine on your upper thigh, you looked over at him, a smile plastered on your face. He returned the sentiment, nodding his head as he played.

That was the first, of many, times Eddie Roundtree eased your fears.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Stepping up to your mic, you looked around at the band. Daisy and Billy were waving at the crowd, who's cheering only got louder as they do so. Meanwhile, Karen was laughing at something Graham was saying to her—and Warren was fiddling with his drumsticks, getting his energy from the audience.

Then there was Eddie. He was tapping on his guitar, a gentle smile on his face as he took it all in. New York City. Who would've known?

You looked over at him, as you had done before every single performance in the entirety of your career, and smiled.

He smiled back, nodding. This time, your eyes stayed locked on each other's for a second longer than they should have.

The two of you turned back to the roaring crowd, listening for the cue of when to start playing.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Things had been different since moving out to LA, especially after the first tour. Billy was more involved with Camila and Julia, only going to mandatory practices and opting to spend more time with his girls. Warren, Karen, and Graham were out doing everything and everyone under the sun. You expected Eddie to go with them, as he had before the band had gone on tour. But he stayed back with you.

You weren't exactly sure why, but one conversation stuck in your head as a possibility to him stopping his wild streak.

The two of you had been messing around with a melody when he looked up at you, asking, "Why don't you go out with us anymore?"

You had hesitated, initially unsure of how to answer, "How honest do you want me to be?"

"As honest as you can be."

Taking a deep breath, you leaned towards him, "I saw what drugs and alcohol did to Billy, what it did to the people who loved him. I don't want to make that same mistake. I don't ever want to put myself or the people I love in that position. When the right person comes along, I'll know. But that person won't be out being reckless."

Eddie was silent for a while before he excused himself, leaving his guitar propped up on the couch. You weren't sure what he was doing, but you did hear him rummaging in one of the rooms upstairs and then the toilet flushing.

He came back downstairs a few minutes later, his hands in his pockets, asking a simple question, "Want to keep practicing?"

You nodded, happy that what you had to say didn't ruin your friendship. As he played, you silently hoped he wouldn't notice your fleeting glances towards him.

Although you'd never admit it to him, you were aware of your feelings for him. Unbeknownst to you, so were Camila and Karen.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Daisy knew how to work a crowd—it was first nature to her. Her movements were fluid, captivating everyone's attention as she sang.

"You found me in flames/it's the daylight of change," She and Billy began, "Baby, all that stuff is done."

Your part came in a split second later as you sand backup, "You're my morning sun/Aurora, you're the one/You're my mornint sun."

While the lead vocalists continued, you focused on matching the rhythm with your tamboruine, swaying as you shook it back and forth.

When you got to the chorus, you made it all of three seconds before looking at Eddie, "Oh, I kinda think I wanna make it last forever... Oh, I kinda think I wanna make it last forever..."

To your surprise, he was looking back at you, mouthing the words back to you.

"Oh, I kinda think I wanna make it."

In that moment, there was nobody else on stage except for the two of you, looking longingly into each other's eyes as you sang back and forth to each other.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Are you ever going to tell him how you feel?" Karen asked you, rather impatiently, as you set the table for dinner one night.

Camila looked up from her spot over the stove in the kitchen, as if she were wondering the same thing.

"What?" Your cheeks suddenly felt hot and you chose to look anywhere but in her direction.

Karen crossed her arms, "Cam, are you going to take this or am I?"

Camila came out of the kitchen, setting a dish towel on the counter, "Y/N, we've seen the way you and Eddie look at each other. It's before every performance, every practice session... Really, anywhere."

"Because we're friends."

"That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard," Karen said, rolling her eyes, "I don't know whether you guys are head over heels in love or if it's just intense eyefucking—but you've got to take care of it one way or another."

Camila held back a laugh, "What we're trying to say is, what's the point in not telling him? What do you have to lose?"

"Everything."

"What? You won't lose us or the band. You know that."

You tried to stop the tears from falling, but that proved to be difficult, "No, you don't understand."

Camila moved towards you, rubbing your back as Karen pulled out a chair for you to sit down on.

"Then what is it, honey?"

"He is everything."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your eyes are locked with one another, unable to put your attention anywhere else. For once, you don't give a damn what anyone thought. All you care about is what happens after the concert.

"Where did you turn... When you needed tenderness..." You sing softly, chest heaving.

You saw, Eddie's breath hitch in his throat, biting his lip.

"Where did you turn... When you needed tenderness."

Your mind drifts back to all the touches you had shared over the years—his hand on your shoulder, your palm pressed on his chest while the two of you danced around the living room on Christmas. It was all clicking.

You kept singing, "When you reached out for my touch...and I couldn't give you much...Of all the time we lost..."

Eddie tilts his head, thinking about where the two of you would be now if he had manned up and told you how he felt four years ago.

"While I was running from your light..."

You had spent years running from your feelings—that wasn't an option anymore.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your first performance in front of over a thousand people had you a nervous wreck all over again. You could handle a couple hundred—but enough to populate your hometown? It sent you spiraling.

Eddie found you pacing back and forth behind stage, your hands running over your face to try and calm your nerves.

"Hey, hey, it's alright," He whispered, gently taking you by the shoulders, "This isn't our first rodeo, right? We're the real deal now, Y/N/N. It's alright."

He pulled you into a hug, running his hand over your hair as you breathed into his chest, "Breathe with me, okay? Listen to my heart, alright? Listen to the beat."

His voice alone managed to calm you down—paired with his touch, you didn't know what to do with yourself.

The two of you pulled away from each other, and he looked you up and down, "Ready, sweetheart?"

You nodded, causing him to smile. He pressed a kiss to your temple, "You've got this, don't worry."

The both of you ignored the looks you got from the rest of the band while you walked on stage.

During the performance, it became too much. Your fists clenched up and your breath work wasn't quite right.

Taking notice of it, Eddie discretely moved towards you, passing it off as him being really passionate playing the bass. In reality, he just wanted to be there with you, reassuring you that you'd be okay.

He succeeded, too. Having him a foot away versus the usual six helped in ways you couldn't have imagined.

From then on, he always played a little closer to you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

As soon as the band went on a short break halfway through the concert, Eddie made a beeline towards you behind stage.

He cupped your face, pulling you into a kiss the two of you had been waiting for the entirety of your careers.

Your hands found the collar of his shirt, pulling him as close to you as physically possible. His hands slid down to your waist, finally pulling back to catch his breath.

"I've been waiting to do that since the day I met you."

His forehead pressed against yours, relief washing over him, "God, I love you. Was that too soon? I'm sorry—"

You pulled him back in for a quick kiss, "Not soon enough."

[reasonsmandy]

As long as I'm here

Graham Dunne x Fem!Reader x Eddie Roundtree

✧.* requested by anon — hey, i was wondering if you can write one where the reader and graham were best friends growing up, (she in the band) and the reader slowly started to develop feelings for him. but then karen came into the picture and the reader saw them kiss at a party so the reader drank too much but eddie was there to bring her home and comfort her. also love your work!! and so so happy you are active ❤️❤️

✧.* summary — you were in love, but things don't seem to work the way your heart wants

✧.* warnings — full angst!

✧.* word count — 2.1k

✧.* 🪕 — Graham's masterlist

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I'm sorry for all the time it took me to come back, hope you have a great reading! 🫶🏾

“Was that before or after I spent all my money on that van?” Rojas' voice came out in a muffled laugh, with the coexistence you knew how to tell that he was in disbelief.

“Come on Chuck, you can't do that!” You interfere, hoping he understands that you all need him. “We have a big gig tonight.”

Billy turns around irritably, running both hands through his hair, Graham is staring at the ground and the thought of seeing him sad causes a knot in your stomach. You try to hold it together, that's what you used to do since you joined the band.

You had heard the conversation between Graham, Warren, Chuck and Eddie that day when the creation of the band was proposed. They knew you were a good vocalist, they had heard you sing on a few occasions and they knew that losing you as a member would be stupid, even if the band went nowhere.

Even though he thought he was the protagonist, Billy wasn't so reluctant to share his attention with you, seeing you more as an addition to something that would be very good. Everything was on track, you were actually gaining a lot of visibility and opportunities lately and the thought of Chuck giving up was a catastrophe.

You come back from your thought when you hear Chuck's low voice say “You're out of your fucking mind”

“So now what do we do?” Rojas asks, lighting a cigarette.

“Eddie you switch over to bass” Billy orders, you can feel how tense Roundtree turns in a second.

“No.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Please Eddie, just this time.” You ask affectionately, a little desperately.

“Fine.” He throws the unlit cigarette on the ground, heading towards the van that had brought you here.

…

“You ready Y/N?” Eddie asks through your door, you quickly grab your jacket and fix your hair before opening it.

“Let's do this.” You were nervous, it was the first time you had to do a big change for a gig and besides it was a big opportunity. All you wanted was things to go well. “Hey, I know you didn't want this but, thank you for doing it.”

Eddie smiles small, nodding before you are interrupted by some horns outside your house, you hurried towards Rojas' van where you saw him accompanied.

“New girl?” You ask Eddie before you reach the van.

“Yeah, Warren is kinda dating her right now. I guess.” Roundtree offers you a cigarette and you take it in his hand. “Hm, talking about love…”

He looks at you with a smirk, you immediately roll your eyes.

“Don't even start.” You ask, feeling your cheeks hot.

“You should tell him, you know.” As you two sit in the back of the van he “starts” even though you asked him not to. “I think you guys look cute together.”

“Y'all talking about y/n+graham’s?” Warren turns from the driver's seat with a smirk.

“What the fuck is y/n+graham's?” You ask with the cigarette between your lips, confused.

“Your couple name, we talk about you two a lot.” Eddie teases you, as Rojas nods starting the van.

“I don't know where you guys got the idea that we are something.” You lay your head against the window, feeling the breeze as you try not to smile with the thought of Graham and You as something.

The truth is that you were in love with him for years now, since before you guys were a band, you always felt amazed by him and little by little you noticed that it had become a passion. You fell in love with him deeply since you started to hang out more together, you tried to hide it but things got impossible when Eddie found your lyrics to a song that well… was pretty clear about your feelings.

You barely noticed when Warren parked in front of the place where they were going to perform, you could hear ‘The Winters’ checking the sound to make sure everything was okay. By coincidence, you had also arrived with Billy, Camila and Graham, who were getting out of the car with their instruments at the same time as you were doing the same.

You enter the place admiring the environment, happy and shocked by the different size than what you had expected. Camila hugs Eddie and then wraps her arms around Billy, Warren and his girlfriend walk hand in hand with Graham beside them when the younger Dunne stops, his eyes fixed on the stage.

His eyes follow in search of what made him stop, the figure of the blonde keyboardist singing along with the band is what your eyes see, instantly your body withers, feeling vulnerable as your feelings were completely exposed.

“Keep dreaming Peaches.” Warren teases his friend, and then turns around to show the place to his girl.

…

You were trying your best to understand how you got here, standing next to the payphone you were trying to hide how upset you were with all of this. You were silent since everyone had agreed to call Karen into the band, you weren't against her at all, but there was something that made you sad about all of this.

“I'll be right back” You mutter, retreating out of the diner with a cigarette in hand. It selfish to think that you were being replaced, you knew it, but the pain on your chest made you want to scream with this situation.

“Are you okay sweetie?” You jump in fright at Camila's voice behind you, coughing from smoke.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Between coughs you ask, trying to hide your nuisance and overcome the burning sensation in your lungs.

“You just left and please don't get me wrong but you look upset” Out of nowhere Warren's girlfriend joins you, and you get scared once again.

“Could you guys stop scaring me?” You laugh small with your hand on your chest. "I'm fine, let's go back inside.”

And next thing you know, there was a big change for you to handle.

…

Karen wasn't the problem itself, but the way Graham's eyes lighted up everytime she opened her mouth or the way he can't stop the smile on his face when she enters the room. The problem was the ache growing on your chest when you witnessed those moments, the way your brain knew how that would never be you no matter how hard you tried.

Things were going great, you had an amazing hit and gradually you felt the band finally going the way you stopped when Billy left for rehab. But somehow even when you put all your efforts to see things on the bright side the feeling came back, it was eating you alive second by second.

You made your way downstairs to grab something to eat when you see Graham and Karen ready for something, desperately you check the clock thinking you somehow lost track of time.

“I thought Billy's housewarming party was at eight…” Eddie let out the question you were repeating in your mind, you gladly thank him in thought.

“And it is, she just asked us to come early and help them get ready.” Graham explains.

“And also take care of Julia.” Sirko adds, you hold the urge to scream in frustration.

“So I'll see you guys later.” The younger Dunne says goodbye to Roundtree with a handshake and smiles at you before leaving.

You rest your body on the sofa, exhausted, resting your head on the shoulder of the bassist next to you. He doesn't dare move,

Knowing what kind of comfort you would like at the moment, he's content to be by your side.

“Is exhausting, I know…” He says under a breath, his eyes fixed on the wall in front of you.

You don't answer, and he takes that opportunity to go on. “It feels like it won't ever stop hurting but eventually, you get used to it.” He lets out with a chuckle, getting a small smile from you.

“I don't even know if I can handle this party anymore.” You complain, covering your face with both hands.

“Don't worry, Warren and I will have you back.” He nudges you with one of his elbows, and you feel lighter with them.

“Like Warren will give me attention after his girlfriend arrived from that job trip.” Eddie laughs, knowing this is very likely.

“You know I've been in love before, with someone pretty impossible…”

“Camila” I say, he suddenly stops.

“What? No.” His cheeks flush.

“It's Camila!” You say arching your eyebrows

“It doesn't matter, okay?” He rolls his eyes. “The thing is, it passes… you'll be fine.”

This time you stay in silence

…

The party was great, even though you didn't find a specific group to join and spend time with, your company was enough for you. Suddenly you are taken by surprise as the lights go out, every room is filled with small conversations while some look for the root of the problem. You search in the darkness for Camila or anyone else in the band, trying to understand what was happening.

Your eyes see Eddie and Camila lighting some candles, you smile and leave them be. You hear crying coming from the rooms above, and worried you go towards the sound.

You find Julia crying in her crib, you take her with you downstairs trying to find Billy somewhere. Turning down some corridors you come across Graham and Karen kissing, Your body freezes and your eyes widen, you feel your heart break into mine in your chest as if a rope is tying a knot around it.

All you can think about is running away, but the child in your lap is something that holds you there. You take a deep breath, desperately looking for Billy and when you find him it's a matter of time before the tears escape your eyes. The older Dunne doesn't ask, he just picks up his daughter and watches you make your way through the crowd.

You struggle to find a corner quiet and private enough to let it all go, you open the beer you had picked up and drink it all in a few sips, feeling the alcohol rip through your throat as you open another one.There was nothing more frustrating than this feeling of incapacity, vulnerability and, above all, rejection. You feel the air leave your lungs as the crying begins, you try your best to keep your crying down but it becomes more and more difficult.

“Hey, what happened? Are you okay?” Eddie finds you, “I saw you running” He waits for your answer, but you just cry. “Everything will be fine, I'm here with you” He holds you, you let him hold you as you fall apart.

“I can't deal with this.” You bury your face on his chest, upset and feeling ashamed.

“Let me take you home.” He asks, holding your hand as he helps you up. “I'm sure Camila will understand why we're leaving.”

“Don't! Please don't tell her.” The tears fall slowly on your face. “The fact that you see me like this is already too humiliating."

“Humiliating?” He seems confused, a little bit hurt as he guides you to the car. “You don't have to be always strong with me. I'm here for you, you can cry all you want.”

As his car makes its way to your house you watch the street in silence, your eyes filling with tears every time you remembered what you had seen.

“I just.” You begin to say, crying a little. “I can't help but feel this way.”

“I know what it looks like.” He whispers, turning the car to another direction.

“Where are you going?”

“I think you don't want to stay at the house with them, what about we spend the night on the beach?” You look at him, your teary eyes curious.

“What?”

“Just walk around, swim and talk.” He knows you feel pretty comfortable at the beach, so he's looking for something that will make you feel okay.

“That sounds fun, thank you.” You try your best to smile, the car parks at the beach.

Eddie helps you walk up some rocks so you can watch the waves better, you feel the cold breeze against your body and it makes you feel a little more alive, of course, things weren't fine and far from feeling better… but not impossible to go through.

“Thank you for this.” You say in a whisper, closing your eyes as you rest your head on Roundtree's shoulder.

“Just like I always told you, you will never be alone as long as I'm here”

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

Graham's taglist:@lantsovcolors @ariianelle @jaidaschampagneproblems @warrenrojaswife @hopelessromantic727 @eddiesaurora @number1chonie @scenesofobx

Eddie's masterlist: @jaidaschampagneproblems @boredshit-shadow @warrenrojaswife @o1iv3 @hopelessromantic727 @eddiesaurora @scenesofobx @vyctorya

[nomorespahgetti]

I will never get over the novel version of Daisy Jones & The Six. I think it’s honestly worse how Billy and Daisy don’t even TOUCH in the book. Not even one small kiss. But they want to. They don’t, and they do come close, but it never happens.

The emotional affair is worse. It’s worse because they want each other and Camilla just has to watch. But no, she can’t be mad: they haven’t done anything. They haven’t done anything. They’re addicted to each other, and they represent the struggle of it for the other.

[mrsnancywheeler]

im so hyperfixated on your billy dunne fics rn, and i cant stop thinking of him getting back from rehab. and reader is just like "wtf why is he being so normal and acting like he didnt make my life hell for so long". and eventually she asks him how come i didnt get this billy years ago. and she just starts sobbing and doing that punching thing on his chest, idk how to describe just throwing a tantrum i guess. and then billy just grabs her and lets her sob into his chest. he finally starts realizing how much he hurt you over the years, and then i feel like he would show his muse how much he loves her later (smut while he is praising her, only focusing on her pleasure) idk sam claflin is making me go feral today

-🦋

billy dunne brain rot is so real, I need him biblically

but you're used to periods of grace before breakdowns so for the first few months it's good, but then it keeps going. he's not perfect, like he'll still have moods, be tempted by things he knows he can't have, but he abstains, and always apologizes now. so it's odd, you start to feel like you're walking on eggshells so eventually something has got to give, right? so you're getting quieter, scared she'll say something that'll set him off, he'll be a few minutes off from when he said he'd be home and you're getting nervous, asking where he was. one morning you're being all quiet again, serving him breakfast, just a small "good morning"

and he's pulling you into his lap, "what's going on, baby?"

"nothing" and when he's in a mood anything can be the trigger, saying that could've set him off on how nothing's enough for you, opening up could've meant that it was a rant about how it's so much worse for him, but apparently not.

"yes there is." he sneaking a small kiss in, "'m worried about you, tell me what's going on in that head of yours." and she's quiet so eventually he's just sighing, hands playing in the ends of your hair. "what can I do? we can go back to bed if you want? go hit the beach later." and suddenly you're sobbing and he's so confused, but trying to be comforting.

"why are you being like this?"

"being like what, baby?"

"you're being different, stop it!" it feels like you can't breathe, not having the cycle is weird, overwhelming

and he's trying to press if forhead to yours, "I'm getting better, baby, getting better for you, for me, for both of us. it's good, what you deserve-"

you're up off of his lap, "did I not deserve it then? why are you changing now? just be angry!" as calmly as he can he's standing, trying to hold you, to calm you down, but he feels like he could cry because now he can clearly see what he's done to you.

"you did deserve it then, baby, you always deserved so much better, and I am so sorry. the shit I pulled really messed you up, but we're gonna get healthier. you didn't deserve for me to always be mad at you, I'm sorry I confused you." he can feel his eyes burning because it's a lot to confess and he hates it, but you need to hear it.

you just stare for a moment before shaking your head, "no, stop it, billy, just be angry." when he doesn't react you're trying to hit his chest, which takes his off guard but does nothing so after a beat you keep going. "you're angry with me, be angry! I'm disappointing and should leave, be angry! I'm being clingy and intense, I know you're mad at me, be mad!" and eventually he's got his arms wrapped around you so you can't hit and you're just sobbing into his chest as he holds you.

"c'mon baby, just let it all out." eventually he just lifts you up to take you back to bed and lays there cuddling with you until you've completely calmed down.

yes, and later there's totally him between your legs for hours and different apologies for things he's done. reminding her that he really does love her, she's the one no one else, his girl, irreplaceable, loveable.

he's my man and I'm in love with him

[ssweeterthanfiction]

Wait for your love.

content warnings (for the whole series): mentions of drugs and alcohol, age gap, gaslighting, billy being TOXICCCCC, mentions of suicide/suicidal thoughts, mental health issues

↳ currently playing ;

Midnight's Regrets - 1978

1:56 ——————•———— 3:24

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In July of 1978 Y/N made her reappearance.

Y/N: "I was gone for about a year." "And for the first 6 months, I was focusing on getting myself together. I got clean and started writing again." "I was slowly putting together a small album. I had told myself that if I wrote about change and forgiveness, I could heal." "I had heard...rumblings that the band was preparing to release a new album, but I had tried to stay away from the media." "That was until this...one interview came out." "I forgot...who was interviewing the band, I just- I remember being on the phone with one of my friends and I had the radio on. It was just playing in the background, but then I heard a familiar voice." "I told my friend that I would give her a call back. So I hung up the phone and turned up the volume on the radio." "It was Billy. He sounded...drunk. Really drunk. And- I wanted to stop listening, but the minute he brought up my name, I couldn't." "He called me selfish. Said I used him. That I didn’t care about the band, that I just wanted to be bigger than all of them." "He said it- he said it so cruelly. And the worst part was that some of the fans believed it." "I- I didn't know how to react. I was just- angry." "Here he was calling me selfish and say that I used him, while in reality, he put me through so much."

Her voice shakes, and she takes a deep breath before continuing.

"And then, as if that wasn’t enough, a month later, I see pictures of him in a magazine with some girl who looked like me. Like, exactly like me." "It hurt. It really hurt. All those times that he told me I was replaceable, that he told me that I was just another pretty face and that he could have any girl he wants, it all felt- it all felt real when I saw those pictures."

Karen: "Oh, the lookalike? Yeah, we all noticed it. It was... unsettling, to say the least."

Graham: "We told him it was weird, but Billy being Billy, he brushed us off. Said we were imagining things."

Warren: "Nah. That wasn’t imagination. That was some next-level shit."

Y/N: "At that point, the album I was working on? It wasn’t about forgiveness anymore. It wasn’t about love or hope. It was about him. About the anger, the betrayal, the heartbreak. About every time he let me down and every time I let myself believe he wouldn’t." "I didn’t want to make an album that just said, ‘This is what you did to me.’ I wanted to make one that screamed, ‘This is what you’ll never do to me again.’" "The funny thing is, I didn’t write it for him. I wrote it for me. But I knew he’d hear it. I knew he’d know. And I wanted him to feel every single word."

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

You were at a radio station to make your first step back into the spotlight, everything was ready to go. You just hoped that he would be listening.

You watched the show host stop the music to speak into the mic, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special guest with us tonight. This guest has been out of the spotlight for about a year, and now she's back to tell us what's been going on in her life" "Please, give it up for Y/N L/N!"

The sound of applause fills the studio as you slide into the chair across from the host, offering a small, nervous smile

"Y/N, welcome back! I have to say, a lot of people have been wondering where you’ve been and what you’ve been up to. So, let’s start there. How are you feeling?"

"I feel..good. I’ve been focusing on myself, my health, and really just trying to find myself again."

"Well, you’ve certainly been missed. Your fans have been waiting for this moment for a while now. What made you decide to step back into the spotlight?"

"Honestly, I think it was time. I needed to disappear for a bit to figure out who I was outside of everything else. But I missed making music, missed connecting with people. It’s why I started in the first place. So, here I am."

"So...I hear that you have a special announcement for us, something you've been working on while you were gone."

You laugh, "Ah yes! Um...this is something very special to me. And I'm so excited to everyone to listen to it. So my brand new album, Midnight's Regrets will be in stores...tomorrow at midnight."

"An album? Wow you must've been busy while you were gone! Is there anything you can tell us about it?"

"Midnight’s Regrets is…probably the most honest thing I’ve ever written. It wasn’t the album I originally set out to make....but sometimes life takes you in a different direction. It’s raw, it’s vulnerable, and it’s everything I needed to say."

"Now is there....anything or anyone that inspired this album?"

"It's...really just about the past few years."

"Well, I can’t wait to hear it, and I’m sure your fans feel the same. Y/N, thank you for joining us tonight. It’s so good to have you back!"

"Thank you! It feels good to be back."

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Karen: "We were in the studio just hanging out and we heard her voice. Billy told Graham to turn up the volume and everything just went quiet."

Graham: "Billy tensed up when she said she was releasing a new album. Like visibly tensed up."

Warren: "Nobody said anything for a while. It wasn't until the lookalike came in...."

Eddie: "No one liked the lookalike. She was rude, entitled, and just nothing like Y/N. Honestly I don't even think Billy liked her. He was just using her to fill Y/N's spot. Which was still fucked up."

Daisy: "Billy left with the lookalike for a while. This was normal he'd leave with her, they go and probably hook up and then she'd come back attached to him. Warren bet Eddie 20 bucks that he was gonna break up with her. Eddie bet 40 against it." "When he came back this time...the lookalike was nowhere to be seen."

Warren: "I asked him where she was...And then he mumbled something like 'she's gone'." "Eddie slipped me my 40 a little while after."

Y/N: "I walked out the the interview with my stomach in knots. I was so nervous for the release, I really was. I was nervous about how people you react to it, I was nervous about what the press would say..." "And I was nervous about what Billy would think of it." "I remembered how I felt listening to Aurora. I was just...in shock and in awe because it was the best album that the band created." "I was just hoping Billy would have a similar reaction to my album."

Eddie: "We all stayed late at the studio that night. We ordered pizza, Warren ran out to get beers and soda, and then at exactly midnight on the dot, Teddy came in with two vinyls." "He placed them both on the table and said 'Listen to the one on the right first' and then he left."

Karen: "Billy was just, staring at them, he didn't move. So I grabbed the first one and opened it."

Y/N: "I wrote a sort of prologue to be put on the inside." "Midnight is the hour where everything feels raw. The highs, the lows, the moments you wish you could forget but never do—they all come alive under the quiet of the moon. This album wasn’t supposed to exist the way it does now. It was going to be a story of forgiveness, love, and second chances. But life has a way of rewriting your narrative for you." "These songs are a reflection of everything I’ve carried: the heartbreak, the betrayal, the anger, and, most importantly, the resilience. They’re not just about what happened to me—they’re about what I refused to let define me." "I wrote this for anyone who’s ever felt shattered and wondered if they could ever put themselves back together. I promise, you can. I promise, you will." "And to the one who broke me: I hope you’re listening. Because I always have."

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

As Karen finished reading the prologue, a haunting silence took over the room. She carefully placed the record on the player, the soft hum of the start up began to play. Taking the tracklist in her hand, Karen read from it, "First one is...How to disappear."

The soft beat of the song filled the room, then her vocals came in.

"It sounds like her older stuff" Graham says.

A hum of agreement went through the room.

Then the next track began to play.

"Happier Than Ever," Karen says.

The soft strumming of guitar filled the room, it was angelic sounding. Billy didn't say anything, your voice sounded gentle, almost a whisper, as sing about being happy alone, about finally finding yourself. But then the shift happens.

"You call me again, drunk in your Benz. Driving home under the influence. You scared me to death, but I'm wasting my breath. 'Cause you only listen to your fucking friends."

Everyone went quiet.

"She fucking went there" Warren whispers to Eddie.

They all looked over to Billy who was looking down, his hands balled into fists.

"'Cause I'd never treat me this shitty. You made me hate this city. And I don't talk shit about you. Never told anyone anything bad. 'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything. And all that you did was make me fucking sad."

Billy's thoughts were swirling, he felt a mess of regret and anger, not towards you, but towards himself. He treated you like shit, and now he was hearing how you truly felt.

 The track ended with the sound of crashing drums and a wailing guitar, leaving the room in a tense, suffocating silence. Before anyone could speak, the next track started, immediately shifting the mood.

The upbeat melody of 'love is embarrassing' filled the room.

"Loser who's not worth mentioning. My God, love's embarrassing as hell"

"It's catchy" Warren says, smirking drumming his fingers to the beat.

Before the group could fully process the last track, the next one began. The smooth, upbeat sound of 'Read your Mind' filled the room. 'Feather' had the same effect.

Karen tilted her head, listening closely. "She’s experimenting. This is different from anything she’s done before."

"I bet you those two will be the ones that the radios pick up." Eddie says.

Graham looks over at Billy, "Billy, you good?"

He doesn't say anything, he just grunts and nods.

As the next track begins to play, everyone had expected it to be another pop song, but nothing would prepare them for the whiplash of what was about to play.

The track opened with a slow, deliberate rhythm, a distant, echoing sound that seems to pull everyone’s attention into the quiet before your voice cut through the tension. It’s raw, soft, yet layered with emotion.

Karen’s face tightens as she listens, and she glances around at the rest of the group. Eddie's usual smirk is gone, replaced with a furrowed brow.

"Fell in love for the first time. With a friend, it's a good sign. Feelin' off when I feel fine. 21 took a lifetime. People say I look happy. Just because I got skinny. But the old me is still me and maybe the real me. And I think she's pretty."

Warren, who had been tapping his foot along to the previous tracks, suddenly stops and sits up straighter, the weight of the song sinking in. "Shit…" he mutters, his voice barely audible. "This one’s…heavy."

The song continues, and the production swirls around your voice, adding layers of echoing distortion, mirroring the chaos and confusion in the lyrics.

"I never did you wrong. And my, my patience is gone. And I, I never did you wrong. I loved you for so long"

The song begins to fade out, leaving an unsettling quiet in its wake. No one speaks immediately. Everyone is still processing the shift, the unexpected vulnerability.

The next 5 tracks, vampire, pretty isn't pretty, making the bed, the grudge, and logical, are like a punch to the gut for Billy.

"You can't love anyone, 'cause that would mean you had a heart"

"I could change up my body and change up my face. I could try every lipstick in every shade. But I'd always feel the same. 'Cause pretty isn't pretty enough"

"Another day pretendin' I'm older than I am. Another perfect moment that doesn't feel like mine. Another thing I forced to be a sign."

"And I doubt you ever think about the damage that you did. But I hold onto every detail like my life depends on it. My undying love, now I hold it like a grudge. And I hear your voice every time that I think I'm not enough"

"'Cause loving you is loving every, Argument you held over my head. Brought up the girls you could have instead. Said I was too young, I was too soft. Can't take a joke, can't get you off"

Every word, every line, every lyric, it hit Billy. He hurt you, badly. And now everyone would know how badly he did.

The room was silent.

Graham moved to the record player and stopped it. "Maybe we should take a break." he murmurs.

Billy shakes his head, "No- no let it keep playing," he says as his voice cracks.

The opening notes of 'Clean' began to play. It was vulnerable like the last few tracks, but it felt more hopeful.

"It sounds clean...does that make sense?" Warren says, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Ten months sober, I must admit. Just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it. Ten months older, I won't give in. Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it."

The words strike a chord in Billy. He knows there's a double meaning. You're sober, you're clean of drugs, but you're also clean of him.

The sparkling beat of 'Bejeweled' then filled the room, everyone’s heads snaped up, and for the first time in a while, there’s a slight tension breaking in the air.

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Karen: "While we were listening to the album...I think we were all just a bit worried with how Billy would react to Better Than Revenge."

Warren: Laughing "Yeah, I mean, I knew it was coming. You can't hide something like that forever."

Daisy: "Y/N asked for our help. She needed something that felt raw, something real. We couldn't say no to her."

Eddie: "I think we would've gotten away with it if Billy didn't have such a good ear."

Graham: "The minute it started playing, I knew he knew. I mean open a song with Warren playing drums? That's a giveaway automatically."

Warren: "What can I say? I didn’t hold back." he grins "If she needed something to match the fire, we gave it to her."

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

As the song blasts through the speakers, the energy in the room shifts. The aggressive drums hit, then the guitar riff, and Billy’s jaw clenches as he hears your voice.

"He’s not a saint and he’s not what you think. He’s an actress, He’s better known for the things that he does, On the mattress."

Billy’s eyes narrow, his fists tightening at his sides. The words feel like daggers. But it’s not just the lyrics. The way the song sounds, the drums, the guitar, the bass, everything. He knows that sound.

He grabs the lyric book and flips it open.

Track 14- Better Than Revenge.

His eyes scan the page, and there on the bottom of the page Graham, Warren, Eddie, Karen and Daisy are credited as part of the production of the song.

"What the hell is this?" he says, throwing the booklet onto the table. "You guys helped her with this?"

The room goes quiet, the song continuing to play in the background.

"She came to us Billy. She asked for our help." Karen says.

Billy's voice rises, sharp, accusatory and a little hurt. "And none of you thought to tell me?"

Eddie steps forward, arms crossed defensively. "We promised not to."

Billy scoffs, "You all took her side. You didn’t even think about how this would make me look."

"This wasn’t about sides, Billy. It was about making sure she didn’t feel alone in this. You had your chance to make things right, and you didn’t." Karen says, glaring at him.

"I didn’t-" Billy starts, but Warren cuts him off.

"You didn’t do anything, man. That’s the problem. You're getting mad over what? The fact that she come to you?" Warren says, "You hurt her, you can't expect her to come to you for help."

The song fades out, leaving a tense silence in its place. Billy was fuming. But he couldn't find it in himself to leave.

The final song on the first vinyl began to play.

Billy sat back down and took the lyric booklet back into his hands, track 15- Out Of The Woods.

The sound was different, everything about this whole album was different.

"The rest of the world was black and white. But we were in screaming color."

Billy began to really listen to the lyrics, the way you described everything was so...perfect. Like he could really picture everything.

Graham speaks up. "She’s not pulling punches Billy, she’s not out to destroy you. She’s trying to make sense of it all. Of you. Of herself."

"To move the furniture so we could dance. Baby, like we stood a chance. Two paper airplanes flying, flying, flying. And I remember thinking."

"It’s not just about the bad, is it?" Billy murmurs, his words just loud enough so they could hear him.

Daisy shakes her head, "No, it’s not. It's about the good, the bad, the messy in-between. She's just telling what you guys had."

The final chorus plays, "Are we out of the woods yet? Are we in the clear yet?" echoing over and over again, sounding haunting and hopeful all at once.

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Daisy: "When we finished the first record...it was just quiet." "We were all feeling different emotions." "But I have to say, I was fucking proud of her. She- she took something so horrible and turned it into a masterpiece."

Karen: "We were confused why there were two different vinyls, but after Graham took a closer look at the jacket of it, we realized the second one was the deluxe version of it."

Graham: "On the inside of it, it said there were 4 additional tracks. So I took the first one off and then put the second one on." "I sat back down and read the song titles...and I knew we were in for another ride."

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Nobody speaks, they only listen. And the lyrics, once again, hit Billy like a fucking bus.

"Cause you kiss me and it stops time. And I'm yours, but you're not mine…"

Billy rubs his face with both hands, his fingers tugging at his hair. Everything rushes back, the whispered promises, the unspoken words, and all the ways he let her down. He slams his hand against the armrest of the chair, his frustration barely contained. "Jesus Christ."

"Why'd you have to make me love you? I said, 'I love you.' You say nothin' back."

This hits Billy like a freight train.

"She's- She's making me seem like the bad guy!" he scoffs, "After I wrote Aurora for her- after I poured out my entire heart on a fucking album for her!"

"Billy, shut up and listen to the lyrics!" Daisy shouts, "You fucking hurt her! You only wrote Aurora because of the fact you hurt her! She's allowed to feel how she wants to! She's allowed to feel angry! She's allowed to feel sad! So just- listen to her lyrics!"

Billy finally shuts up. He leans back in his chair and the next song starts up.

The echoes of 'Is It Over Now?' fill the room. And then...

"You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. You search in every maiden's bed for something greater"

"When you lost control. Red blood, white snow. Blue dress on a boat. Your new girl is my clone"

"If she's got (y/c) eyes, I will surmise that you'll probably date her. You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. You search in every model's bed for something greater"

"I was hoping you'd be there. And say the one thing. I've been wanting. But no."

Billy's head was now in his hands again. His heart feels like it's sinking to the bottom of his chest, his mind spiraling with thoughts of all the mistakes he made. And then before he could fully collect his thoughts, the next song starts playing.

While the opening notes of 'I Wish You Would' started to play, Billy's heart skipped a beat.

"I wish you would come back. Wish I'd never hung up the phone like I did. I wish you knew that. I'd never forget you as long as I'd live. And I wish you were right here, right now. It's all good. I wish you would"

"I wish we could go back. And remember what we were fighting for. Wish you knew that. I miss you too much to be mad anymore. And I wish you were right here, right now. It's all good. I wish you would"

"We're a crooked love. In a straight line down. Makes you wanna run and hide. Then it makes you turn right back around"

"You always knew how to push my buttons. You gave me everything and nothing. This mad, mad love makes you come rushing. Stand back where you stood. I wish you would, I wish you would"

Billy’s chest tightens as the final line rings in his ears. He wishes, too. He wishes he could take it all back, wishes he could undo the damage he caused. But hearing the lyrics, hearing your regret, he knows it’s too late for that. You're not coming back, not in the way he wants. The realization washes over him, leaving him feeling hollow inside.

But then the sparkly distorted intro of 'Karma' starts playing.

"This is the last one" Graham says as he reads off the vinyl jacket.

It was a catchy song, similar to 'Bejeweled', it had that glittery sound.

Billy knew it was another song directed towards him, but when he heard "Cause karma is my boyfriend" his heart sunk.

Boyfriend.

Boyfriend?

A wave of jealousy, mixed with deep regret, crashes over him, had you moved on?

The song keeps going, and with every line, Billy’s heart breaks a little more.

“Karma is the guy on the screen. Coming straight home to me.”

He could hear the smile in your voice, he could hear how happy you were. He was happy you were happy, but he wanted you to be happy with him.

The song ends, and Billy looks at everyone.

"So...guess she's moved on." he says.

"We don't know that Billy" Graham says, "She could've just- written it because it rhymed or something..."

Billy shakes his head, "No...that's not like her. She doesn't just write out lyrics for nothing."

Graham looks over at Billy, his expression filled with a mixture of concern and frustration. "I’m just saying, man, we don’t know for sure. We don’t know what’s going on in her head. She could be trying to move on, or she could just be putting her feelings into music. You can’t take everything in her songs at face value."

Billy scoffs, rubbing his hands over his face, trying to scrub away the frustration that’s been building up for hours. "No, Graham. I’ve been around long enough to know when she’s really saying something. And she’s saying something. She’s telling me, loud and clear, that she’s moved on."

"She’s telling you that she’s moved forward, not necessarily on. There's a difference." Daisy says in a defensive tone.

"Moved on- moved forward- same shit. What difference does it make?" Billy says, getting up and pacing the room. "I wrote Aurora for her. It was for her. All of it. I thought- I thought it was going to be enough."

"You can't just expect one album to fix everything Billy" Karen says, "You hurt her, badly. An album won't fix that."

Billy remains silent for a moment, processing everything they’re saying.

But then his attention went back to the record player as it started to play this awful sounding static.

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

Y/N: "On the jacket of the vinyl for the deluxe version of Midnight's Regrets there were only four new tracks listed."

"There was really five."

  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶

"Graham, why didn't you turn the player off?"

Graham walks over to the player, "There's still grooves, there's another song."

Not even a second later, the room is filled with the haunting opening notes of a new song.

Everyone stands in silence and confusion as the song plays.

"You were born bluer than a butterfly. Beautiful and so deprived of oxygen. Colder than your father's eyes. He never learned to sympathize with anyone."

"I don't blame you. But I can't change you. Don't hate you. But we can't save you."

"You were born reaching for your mother's hands. Victim of your father's plans to rule the world. Too afraid to step outside. Paranoid and petrified of what you've heard"

The words pierce Billy's already broken heart, he can't hold it in anymore. He feels the tears trickling down his face, and when he looks around, everyone else has tears too.

Your voice is so hauntingly beautiful, they've never heard you like this.

As the song fades out, they can hear what sounds like crying under all the instrumentals.

The silence afterward is deafening.

"Billy…" Graham says, his voice breaking the stillness.

"I fucked up," Billy whispers, the words barely audible. "I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know if I even can anymore."

A/N: HOLY FUCK THIS WAS A LONG CHAPTER 😭 anyways I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED!!!! this was honestly so like stressful to work on cause of the lyrics BUT I PULLED IT OFF I THINK! anyways next chapter will probably be out sometime next week and hopefully the next chapter of GOU will be out by sunday night or monday night!!

heres all the songs from readers album (IN ORDER) -> 1978 album

[kaldurahms-lover]

“isn’t already having two enough for you, billy?”

i need a long angsty daisy jones and the six fanfic where the reader is like billy’s tour girlfriend and she’s so hopelessly in love with him, looking at him through rose colored glasses and just seeing this perfect guy, having no idea about camila.

until she does.

and obviously she has to break it off immediately because she doesn’t want to be the other woman. she didn’t ever want to be in this position.

and so she goes to graham, and she gets camila’s address to write her letter, and it has to be a letter because she knows if she calls then camila will just hang up

because that what she would do.

and the letter is so heartfelt and warm and apologetic and very obviously tear stained when camila gets it that she just can't bring herself to be mad at this poor girl who got just as cheated as she did. at this poor girl who broke i up with billy when she found out bc she knew what he did was wrong

and so camila writes back, and a friendship forms. an unexpected friendship, but a friendship nonetheless

and soon enough, once the baby is born, the reader finds herself driving across states to come see camila and julia because dammit billy is in rehab and she wants more help than just her mom and she wants to meet her friend she’s been calling and writing and sending photos to and from this whole time

and you know, the reader stays longer than she means to

long enough that something more than friendship is buzzing between them

long enough that the reader has taken billy’s place in bed next to camila

long enough that when billy comes home from rehab, she’s holding julia while camila buzzes her lips against the baby’s stomach.

obviously he’s flabbergasted because what the FUCK is his affair partner doing in his house with his wife and baby and why does his mother in law look totally unphased….

reader simply kissing cami’s temple and handing her julia, saying she’ll give them some time alone because she understands that they need it

GOD having to have the talk about what that means for the relationship and everything i’d lose my mind

both of you eventually coming to the decision you’ll give billy one more chance

and once he gets over that fear he’s a good dad. a good husband, a good boyfriend.

and then daisy fucking jones shows up.

that’s all i’ve thought out so far

[meropegaaunt]

EVENTUALLY

Billy Dunne x reader

Implied eventual Graham Dunne x reader

Can be read as a stand-alone or as a sequel to West Coast

Summary: You grow apart from your childhood best friend, Billy.

Warnings: Angst, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, a non-detailed mention of childbirth, implied cheating, and attempted kissing

Word Count: 4,940 words

Author’s Note: If anyone would be interested in a third part of this fic, please let me know in the comments!

© Meropegaaunt 2023

BILLY DUNNE (lead singer, The Six): I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but at one point or another, things between Y/N and I changed. They started to pull away, to keep me at arm’s length, and that . . . that hurt more than I can put into words. For twelve years, we had been inseparable, then boom. Just like that, we were separated.

Don’t get me wrong. I was happy with Camila, happier than I had been in ages, but can one truly find joy without their best friend? No, I don’t think they can.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Billy and Camila getting together served as a wake-up call. At some point in 1969, you had unknowingly developed feelings for him, had let him into your heart, but now that he was off the market, you felt the need to take a step back, to figure out who you were without your best friend. So you stopped going over to the Dunne household every day, instead opting to spend time with your father or your other friends. As expected, Billy took note of your absence, but when he pushed you for an explanation, you assured him all was well. The year before, he would have immediately noticed that your voice had cracked when offering assurance, revealing your words to be false. Now, though, he was distracted, his mind so wrapped up in other things that he did not notice. (Or so you thought . . .)

Despite the wide berth you were giving Billy, you still saw him at band practice. As per usual, the two of you played side by side, giving your all to the music, and while your musical talents continued to grow, something was off. A tension could be heard, one that neither of you were willing to acknowledge even after Chuck left . . .

His departure was completely unexpected, blindsiding not only you but the rest of the band, because he had been quiet in his discontent, not telling anyone he was going to leave until there was no other choice. He had to, because you had all rode up his stone-paved driveway in Warren’s rickety, beat-up van, expecting to practice, only to realize that the door to Chuck’s garage, your designated practice space, was closed.

“Ah, there he is,” Eddie breathed, kicking open the back door of the van, a half-smoked cigarette hanging from his lips. Out of the back spilled you, him, and Graham, your features all a mask of confusion.

“Hey, Chuck,” you greeted, offering him a wide, sunny smile. The kind that could calm even the most nerve-addled man, because he looked to be in need of assurance. “We‘ve been calling all morning. What’s up?”

There was no time for him to answer, though, before Warren and Billy emerged from the front of the van, the former suspiciously eyeing the closed garage door. “Why’s the garage door closed?”

A beat of tense silence trickled by, depriving the space around you of oxygen, then, “Look, I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just gonna say it. I got into college.”

Warren glanced at you, unable to suppress the soft, surprised chuckle that escaped his mouth. “Huh, all right.”

Your own mouth curved downward in response, showing that you had mixed emotions about the whole ordeal. On one hand, this was good news. Chuck had always been smart, the type that could go far with his brain so long as he applied himself. You could, too, but scholarly pursuits had never appealed to you, not the way music had. Four more years in a classroom personally sounded like torture to you, but if that was what Chuck wanted, then so be it. On the other hand, though, him going to college meant the band would be down both a bassist and a practice space.

“Bro, we didn’t even know you applied,” Graham pointed out, sparing a glance at the rest of the band. No one had a clue about Chuck applying to college until this very moment, because he had stayed silent, closed-lipped.

“Was this, like, before or after I spent all my money on this van?” Warren asked, his surprise bordering the line of disbelief.

“I know. I’m sorry, it’s just . . . they have a really good dental program.”

That was shocking, so much so that it was now your turn for disbelief. “You’re gonna be a dentist?”

“I don’t know. I guess so.”

“Chuck, come on,” Billy huffed, stepping closer to him in an effort to get through to him, to sway his decision. “Please don’t do this. All right? Not now. Not when things are just starting to happen.”

Chuck had thought long and hard about his decision, which was why he stayed firm, hard as stone. “What do you mean, ‘just starting to happen’?”

“Dude, we open for the Winters on Thursday, and that’s just the beginning.”

“This is a real opportunity.”

“So is this.”

“Billy,” Chuck released a deep, exasperated sigh, one that showed just how much he had thought this over. He would not be swayed, even when his closest friends begged him to. “I know this is your dream, man, but just because you want something to happen doesn’t mean it’s going to. Do you really think that there’s a future here?”

“Well, yeah. Chuck, I do.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind.”

With that, Chuck left, leaving a large, bassist-sized hole in the band. It came as a harsh, cutting surprise, but even so, you called after him, “Good luck.”

Your words, though light, did nothing to dispel the tension that had fallen over the group. Eddie seemed to be feeling it most of all, as shown by how he pulled the cigarette from his mouth, turning it over and over in his hands. “We gotta cancel the gig.”

“No, man,” Billy shook his head, refusing to be put out by this one setback. He would not be stymied, not when the band had just gotten started on its rise to greatness. “We’re not canceling.”

“Yeah? What’re we gonna do? We don’t have a bassist, Billy—“

“We’re not canceling,” he repeated, remaining firm, unyielding. Emerald eyes slowly strayed to Eddie, clearing with comprehension, then, “Eddie, you switch over to bass.”

“No.”

You could not help but roll your eyes at the suggestion, because even though Eddie was a team player, there was no way he would switch over without kicking up a storm. He would no doubt complain, spending precious time complaining rather than practicing. That was why you straightened your spine, volunteering, “I’ll do it.”

“Thanks, Y/N. We owe you one.” A pleased grin slid onto Billy’s face, replacing the discontent that had been there moments before. He placed a hand on your shoulder, pressing his gratefulness into your skin in a manner that could have been taken as friendly . . . if only his hand had not lingered a moment longer than it should have.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

GRAHAM DUNNE (lead guitar, the Six): (Smiles) Y/N ended up becoming a better bassist than Chuck, anyway.

─── ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ───

ROD REYES (tour manager): Oh, yeah. I remember the night the Dunne Brothers opened for the Winters, specifically Billy Dunne and Y/N L/N. One look, and I could tell they were rock stars. He was cocksure, knew who to play in the crowd. They had this air about them, the kind that entranced the crowd, really brought out their emotions.

There’s just a quality that some people have. If you took nine guys, plus Mick Jagger, and you put them in a lineup, someone who had never heard of the Rolling Stones before could still point to Jagger and say, “That’s the rock star.” Billy and Y/N had that. And the bad had good sound.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Obviously, you got to write your own material,” the famed manager, Rod Reyes, declared, the distinct smells of smoke and sex emanating from him, filling the air. The smell was so strong and potent that it filled your nostrils from your spot beside Graham, burning your throat, but you were happy, too optimistic to mind the burn.

“Well, I-I mean, I do. We do,” Billy replied, his emerald eyes flitting briefly from Rod’s to yours, because the two of you had written the band’s songs together. A multitude of hours had trickled by in which you two had tried to piece together worthwhile ballads, throwing paint at a theoretical wall and seeing what stuck. The first drafts of the songs had been horrid, lacking any harmony or smoothness, but with much shaping, they had been turned into songs that could go a long way. Key word: could. “Most of it’s not good enough yet.”

“What are you writing about?”

“I have this one song called ‘Nevermore’ about the Catonsville Nine.”

“No. Oh! Are you Bob Dylan? Are you Buffy Sainte-Marie? Enough with the political shit. It’s a new decade. No one needs reminding that the world is a mess. People want to feel good again. They want to feel hope. You can write a love song, can’t you?” Rod demanded, a sour look crossing his face at the thought of ‘Nevermore.’ The song had not been bad, sounding pleasant to the ear, but he did not need to hear it to know that it would not go over well with the masses. He turned to Graham, then, “You need to cool it with the solos, brother. Nobody cares about your technical guitar skills. They want to sing. They want to dance. Look, the last thing I’ll say, and this is key, you need to get the fuck out of Pittsburgh. You want to be signed to a label, you want to work with Jimmy Miller, Tom Dowd, Teddy Price—“

The mention of Teddy Price caused a great, perceptible shift in the air. You immediately sat upright, a curious glint working its way into your eyes. “Wait, you know Teddy Price?”

“Yeah, I know everybody, and they’re all in L.A. now. Not London, not New York. California, my friends. That is the place you got to be.”

His words resonated deeply with you three, specifically the brothers, which was why the prospect of going to L.A. was promptly proposed to the rest of the band. As expected, they agreed, and the six of you and Camila set off, riding off in Warren’s van, Lady Peaches, toward your futures.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Y/N L/N (singer, The Six): I knew the chances of making it big were slim, but I also knew that if I didn’t at least try, I would never forgive myself. The boys wouldn’t either. So I packed up my things and bid Dad farewell. He was sad to see me go, but just as happy that I was going after my dreams.

He didn’t tell me he was sick . . . Probably because he knew I’d have stayed behind to take care of him.

─── ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ───

The City of Angels welcomed you and the Dunne Brothers with open arms, taking you in as one of its own. You got into contact with Rod, hoping that he would set you up with the big guys, specifically Teddy Price, but all he had to offer was a gig at a dank, seedy bar named Filthy McNastys. Its attendants were sketchy, having all sorts of sins to their name, but given that the bar was on the Strip, the band gladly pushed through, giving their all to each and every performance.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Y/N: The months we spent at McNastys were slow. At first, barely anyone came to see us, but the more shows we played, the more attention we got. People started coming in just to see us, which was fantastic, but there was a problem: we were barely getting paid.

I ended up getting a job as a waiter at this cute little coffee house to help make ends meet, but no matter what we did, it just didn’t seem like it’d be enough.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

“What happened with that producer you went up to?” Eddie asked as you slid into the booth aside him, donning your work uniform. Working at a coffee house was not exactly what you had envisioned yourself doing when you had set off for L.A., but hey, sacrifices had to be made if the group was to stay. “The one with the parrot?”

“Parrot guy passed on us,” Camila answered, having fashioned herself the band’s manager. You thought she was doing a great job, given that she had never done such a thing before. Others did not think as such, though, as shown by Eddie’s next comment.

“Wow. That is bleak.”

“Might want to save half that toast for tomorrow, Eddie,” she retorted, eyeing his toast with an expression of deadly seriousness. Atop the table lay a mound of cash, which was all of the money that the band had amassed since the start of the month. “This is barely enough to cover the rent.”

“Fuck,” Eddie cursed, breathing out a deep sigh. Half his toast was promptly placed in his shirt pocket, being tucked away to be eaten tomorrow.

“Fuck,” you echoed, resting your head atop his shoulder, the move a sign of just how deeply tiredness had settled upon your bones, weighing you down. “I’ll be working another double this weekend, I s’pose.”

Eddie opened his arms in response, letting you lean more closely against him. You did so happily, soaking in his warmth. The action, though gentle, was purely friendly, yet still, unbeknownst to you, two sets of eyes looked upon said action disapprovingly. Both Billy and Graham, despite not wanting to admit it, were jealous, because there you were, snuggling up against another man.

Their jealousy went unnoticed, but your exhaustion did not, as shown by the concern that made its way across Warren’s face. “Fuck it. Maybe old Chuckie was right, huh? Maybe this was all just a big mistake and we should have just stayed at home with our parents, saved money on rent, and become dentists.”

“I mean, I’ve sent out hundreds of photographs. Not a single fucking paper has responded. Should I just quit? No one said it was gonna be easy.”

Camila’s disheartened words drew your attention, causing your head to snap up toward hers. “No, don’t quit. All it takes is one person to make a difference,” you replied, flashing her a weak but warm smile, because even though you had distanced yourself from Billy, you had welcomed her into the group as kindly as you had the new keyboardist, Karen Sirko.

“Also, while we’re talking about stuff, how come I’m the only one without a bed in the house?” Warren deadpanned, heavily yearning for a good night’s sleep in a proper bed. He had been squatting on the couch, after all, and it could be felt in the aches of his back. No twenty year old should feel like they had the back of an old, decrepit man . . .

“Well, you could’ve taken Karen’s room,” Billy pointed out, finally breaking out of his jealous haze.

“No, I couldn’t have. That room is haunted.”

“It’s not haunted.”

“Everybody knows it’s haunted.”

“Oh, come on, Rojas. You don’t want to get all up close and personal with a ghost?” you teased, reaching across Eddie to jostle his arm. Of course, Warren jostled you back, the two of you nearly displacing Eddie’s toast, which he did not like. Not at all.

“Hey, stop! You almost made me drop my pocket toast—“

Sensing that the three of you were on the brink of causing chaos, Karen broke her silence, asking a question that had been bothering her for a long time, “Why are we still called The Dunne Brothers? I mean, four of us aren’t Dunnes, and the last time I checked, I’m nobody’s brother.”

“So you want to change our name?” Billy asked, not even wanting to consider the idea. Truth be told, you had been opposed to the name at the nascence of the band, but given that two of the three original members were Dunnes, your opinion had been the minority.

“I personally think that’s a great idea,” Eddie admitted, earning a sharp, accusatory look from Billy. Said look was sharp enough to cut skin, but he did not wilt, instead adding, “I’m just saying what everybody’s thinking.”

“Well, the name is the name, so . . . That’s how people know us.”

“Yeah, but it’s not exactly doing much for us, though.”

“How about Immaculate Reception?” Warren interjected, causing your nose to crinkle disapprovingly.

“God, no. That’s horrid.”

“We’re not changing the name,” Billy insisted, looking to his brother for help. Graham offered none, though, for he was open to changing the name.

“I mean, listen, if we’re throwing stuff out there, Hercules is still on the table.”

“No! No way!”

“Deliverance, Espionage, Poison.”

“How about Aurora—“

“The six of us will never agree on a name,” Billy cut you off, only liking a single one of the names that had been thrown out. “All right? So let’s just . . .”

His words caused a lightbulb to go off in Karen’s head, as shown by how brightly she grinned, realization donning on her features. “What about The Six?”

“I like The Six.”

“Sure as hell better than Hercules.”

“Y/N?” Graham looked at you, an expectant, questioning look flitting across his face. He had been looking at you more and more as of late with that look, one you could not quite make sense of. “What do you think?”

You opened your mouth to answer, to offer your view of the name, only for the words to die on your tongue when your boss, Dave, yelled out, “Y/N, break’s over. Back on the floor!”

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Y/N: I put in crazy hours at the coffee house, working to the point of exhaustion, but one of my coworkers there, this bright, fiery girl named Daisy Jones, turned what was one of the darkest times of my life into one of the brightest. One day, after working a double together, she pulled me along to watch her and her friend, Simone, perform at the Troubadour.

I thought that was all it was, that I was just going to support them, but then, after Daisy performed, she got this crazy glint in her eye. The kind where you know she’s up to something. She set down her guitar and said, “Now, I’d like to bring a friend of mine up on stage. Come on up and wow us, Y/N L/N.”

I was shocked, to say the least, but Daisy Jones isn’t the type of person you deny, especially in a room with that many people. So I got up on that stage, took Daisy’s guitar, and sang a piece I had been writing on my own called “Equilibrium.” It was about trying to find a balance between who I was with Billy versus without him.

Looking back, it was sad just how deeply intertwined I was with him, even when there was more space between us than ever. At the time, though, I didn’t realize the song was about him.

Hell, I didn’t even realize Teddy Price was in the audience that night. In my defense, though, my obliviousness might’ve been from all the mescaline I was taking at the time . . .

ੈ✩‧₊˚

After your performance, you returned the guitar to Daisy and hopped off the stage, your cheeks bathed in perspiration from exertion. As soon as your feet made contact with the earth, you were off, making a beeline for the star of the night, Simone.

A golden grin immediately slid onto your mouth, showing how happy you were for her in that moment. “Simone, you did great out there.”

“Hey,” she returned the smile, inclining her head to the man she had been chatting with before you had approached. “Y/N L/N, Teddy Price. You two should talk.”

Oh, my God, you thought when his name trickled your ears. It was all you could think, because there was one of the legends of the music industry, handing you his card. Feeling as though you were floating outside of your body, you reached out to take the card into your hands, hoping that he did not notice the slight tremble of your fingers.

“You interested, kid? We could work on some music together.”

“Oh, um, I appreciate it, but I’m not a solo act,” you informed, because at the time, you had only ever performed by yourself on a handful of occasions. They had been fine, perhaps even good, but not as great as when you performed with the band. “I’m in a band, The Six. Any chance you’d be interested in giving us a chance? Just let us play one song for you, that’s all I ask.”

He looked upon you, studying you keenly. A beat passed, then he nodded, agreeing to give The Six a chance. “Okay, kid. I’ll give you a chance. Are you ready?”

“Undoubtedly, yes.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚

BILLY: People think we played one song for Teddy Price and he gave us a record deal. Not true. After that first meeting, he put us through the wringer for months, but it was worth it.

Everything had gone so slowly, and then suddenly it was all happening so fast. We recorded our album in six days, had two weeks off, then it was time to hit the road.

─── ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ───

BILLY: The night before we were set to leave, Camila told me she was seven weeks pregnant, and I . . . I decided we needed to get married right away. We had been planning to have a wedding sometime after the tour but I decided we needed to do it right then. I don’t know why that mattered to me, but the moment I knew she was pregnant I felt like we had to make sure we were a proper family.

CAMILA DUNNE (wife of Billy Dunne): Karen knew an ordained minister. She got his number from a friend of hers and we called him late that night. He came right over.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE (rhythm guitarist, The Six): It was four in the morning.

CAMILA: Karen decorated the porch out back, and Y/N picked some roses from the bushes surrounding the house. They made me this beautiful flower crown and did my hair; it made me feel like a proper bride.

─── ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ───

INTERVIEWER: What do you remember about the tour?

Y/N: More than I’d like to.

GRAHAM: . . .

WARREN ROJAS (drummer, The Six): . . .

KAREN SIRKO (keyboardist, The Six): . . .

BILLY: I, uh . . . It was a long time ago, I don’t remember much.

CAMILA: I remember everything.

GRAHAM: Pretty quickly, we found a rhythm: get to town, sound check, play, party, get on the bus. And the better we started playing, the more we partied. Hotels, girls, drugs. Over and over. Hotels, drugs, girls. For all of us, but especially Billy.

WARREN: Let me sum it up for you: I was getting laid, Graham was getting high, Eddie was getting drunk, Karen and Y/N were getting fed up, and Billy was all four, at once.

Y/N: Billy changed on that first tour. Cracked under the pressure, I think. He turned into a person I didn’t recognize and didn’t like.

And even though I didn’t like him, I still loved him.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

After the wedding, something within Billy had changed, had shifted. He became hard, closed off. You and Graham, two of the people closest to him, were kept at arm’s length, having no choice but to helplessly watch on as he ruined all that was good in his life. He got drunk, high, and angry, and when his anger mounted to an exceedingly high level, he expelled it by sleeping with a nameless woman, one he could use, then discard when he felt better.

Him spiraling hurt you more than you cared to admit, but you were not his family. Not his spouse nor his blood, so it was not your place to set him straight . . . or you thought as such until he tried to rope you into his debauchery.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Y/N: After the Ottawa show, I went back to my hotel room and started getting ready to go out for the night. I remember, I was just about to get started on my hair when there came a knock at the door. I opened it, expecting to see Graham, but it was Billy. He had been drinking tequila. I could smell it on his breath, and the look in his eye . . . I had never seen him that down, and it made me sad.

I didn’t know what to say, but I let him in. He went and sat down on the bed, and knowing I’d need a drink to get through whatever was to come, I poured myself a glass of whiskey. It was awful, but did its job. I downed the whole thing, then poured two more. One for me, and one for Billy.

BILLY: I honestly don’t know what got into me that night. I just needed to see Y/N, to hold them.

Y/N: He asked me to hold him, so I did. We sat there for a while, not talking, moving, or doing anything. Just holding each other . . . until he tried to kiss me. That pissed me off, because he knew how I felt about him. He had known when he married Camila, yet still, he had married her. Had chosen her.

I jumped up and yelled, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Billy? I mean, honestly, is this the kind of person you want to be?”

And he said, “The booze, the drugs, the girls . . . I’ve been doing them all to try to get you out of my system—“

I slapped him. Hard.

BILLY: Y/N slapped me, and I just kind of sat there, reeling. They looked like they wanted to apologize, but before they could, Graham walked in. You could just tell by the look on his face that he had overheard the whole thing.

GRAHAM: I only heard a tiny bit, but it wasn’t hard to piece together what was happening. It also wasn’t hard to piece together that Y/N wasn’t willing to entertain Billy’s advances, so I pushed him out of the room and into the parking lot. Outside, he paced back and forth and muttered to himself, looking a little crazy. He said, “I fucked it all up. I fucked it all up.”

Deep down, I’d known it was coming, because he loved Y/N the same way I did. So all I could say was, “Just don’t do it again, man. Just don’t do it again.”

ROD: Billy started going at it double time after Ottawa. The coke and girls and booze and all that.

GRAHAM: Camila decided to surprise Billy a few weeks after that. She drove up, five months pregnant, and found him in a . . . compromising position.

EDDIE: She walked in on him getting, well . . . I don’t know how else to say it . . . oral sex, I guess I should say. From a groupie.

Y/N: Camila blew up on Billy. Like, slapped right across the face. Hit him with her bag, too, if memory serves. She asked me to watch him, to make sure he didn’t sink deeper into himself.

And she said, “When he wakes up, give him this letter.” The letter had an ultimatum; he had to get clean before the baby came.

KAREN: He didn’t stop messing around with all of it.

EDDIE: We were all sort of counting down the days. You know, sixty days until Billy has to get clean. Then it was forty days. Then, when it got down to ten days, he was forgetting the words onstage, and I thought he was never gonna clean up.

Y/N: On November 28th, we were in Hartford for a show when one of the stage managers called me offstage. Said there was a call for me. I picked it up, and it was Teddy. “You gotta get Billy home,” he said, because Camila had gone into labor.

BILLY: Y/N took me by the arm and held onto me until we got onto the plane. Then, we landed and they dragged me into this beat-up rental car and drove me to the hospital.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

The rickety old rental car sped into the hospital parking lot, going way faster than the legal speed in an effort to get Billy to his girls as fast as possible. When the car rolled to a stop, though, he did not immediately jump to get out. Confusion overtook your features, prompting you to say, “Well? Go see your girls.”

“I can’t,” he whispered, his voice sad, broken down. Never before had you seen him so shattered.

“You can.”

“I can’t.”

“Billy.”

“Y/N. I can’t have her meet me like this.”

An emotion akin to the anger you had felt back in Ottawa arose beneath your skin, causing you to tighten your hold on the steering wheel, your knuckles flashing white with force. “Okay, then,” you said, eerily calm. “I’m going to be there for Camila and to meet that baby girl, with or without you, Billy. But if I go by myself, you’re going to get help when I come back out. Real help.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Y/N: That night, sitting by Camila’s bedside was when I let go of the possibility of Billy. He had a wife and a baby, and if he was going to mess that up, I wasn’t going to play a part in it.

[allisluv]

what types of affection do you think would make billy (dunne) jealous? especially if he’s not clean.

i could've completely misinterpreted what you meant so if i did don't be afraid to let me know lovely!! i honestly think billy is a really jealous person, especially when he's not clean. any kind of physical affection would make his blood but even like random acts of kindness too! he often takes things the wrong way like someone could offer to buy you a drink because you're an old friend or something and he'd flip his lid. i think he would do well with a partner who calls him out on his bull- shit and doesn't let him get away with stunts because even though it's not intentional, he does get controlling at times and needs to be knocked down a peg or two. after a thorough talking to, he does come back with his tail between his legs and (albeit reluctantly) apologize

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Stay With Me

Fandom:  Daisy Jones & The Six

Pairing: Daisy Jones x GN Reader

Characters: Daisy Jones, Reader, Billy Dunne

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1399

Summary: Guess it’s true I’m no good at a one-night stand.

Tags/Warnings: Songfic, Love, Fluff, Angst, The Six, Messy Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Situationship, Kissing, Smoking, Cigarettes, Drugs, Drug Use, Drug Problem, Addiction, Stay With Me // Sam Smith

Notes: I have the biggest crush on Daisy Jones and Riley Keough in general

SONG LINK // HALLOWEEN MASTERLIST

I knew it was wrong, that I shouldn’t be here. This hadn’t been the plan, yet nothing to do with her ever seemed to go the way it was supposed to. I knew I should’ve made some excuse and left before things got too far, and yet I hadn’t. And as I found myself buried between her milky white thighs, breathy moans spilling from her lips as I tipped her over the edge of ecstasy I found myself not caring. But that was always how I felt when Daisy was around. If anything that was the way most people felt when Daisy was around because she made it so easy not to worry or think about anything. She was the sun and those around her just felt lucky to be able to bask in the glow.

‘Fuck,’ she panted tapping my shoulder which made me look up at her with a grin. She had pushed herself up on her elbows to look at me, a hand running through my hair as I pulled back, her hair was splayed around her like an auburn halo, her blue eyes satiated yet vibrant, and a grin on her own face. Yet this grin looked different. Happy, the first truly happy smile of hers I’d seen in a while. It was an image I wished I could take a picture of; the feeling that gave me something I longed to bottle up. In fact, that feeling was something I wanted to cling to as long as possible and so I moved forward, pressing kisses up her soft skin until I was above her, our lips meeting in a slow and gentle kiss. She hummed into it, falling back against the pillows as I kissed her, determined to get her to make that noise again. When we broke apart I was breathless but kissing, like everything she turned her hand to, seemed to come easily to her. As I tried to catch my breath she smiled, her fingertip tracing down the planes of my face.

‘You’re getting good at that y’know,’ she mused.

‘Yeah well we’ve had enough practice tonight don’t you think?’ I said as she pushed me off of her making me collapse down beside her on my stomach. As I flopped into the pillows I allowed my arm to drape over her, not ready to break contact just yet, though it was disturbed as she leant over to grab a cigarette off the nightstand, sparking it up and taking a drag in one quick motion, her eyes closing as she did. As she opened them and found me watching her she smiled, offering me the cigarette in question, which I took though it meant I was forced to roll away from her. I wrinkled my nose as I took a drag, again wondering how she so easily talked me into things I would never normally do. Anyone would think it had been the cocktail of pills that had been coursing through my system when we’d stumbled back to her apartment last night but I knew it wasn’t. My drug wasn’t anything other than her.

As I handed it back to her she took it from me, going to place it on the ashtray beside her, but before she did she sat bolt upright and said, ‘shit, we’re late.’

‘Since when do you care about being on time?’ I asked though I may as well not have spoken considering she ignored me, throwing herself from the bed towards the pile of clothes on her bedroom floor that were in various stages of wearability. I pushed myself up until I sat against the headboard.

‘I don’t,’ she said, finally acknowledging me as she fished a muted purple top off the floor and threw it over her bare shoulders, tying it around her front. Given that she hadn’t opted to wear a bra meant there was only one layer between us yet that felt like one too many. I wasn’t ready to get out of bed yet, to leave our little bubble of ignorance, the one that only included me and her.

‘So come get back in bed then,’ I said. She was in the middle of throwing on a pair of shorts but she stopped to look at me for a second, her eyes flashing as though she’d thought of a reason why she couldn’t. Whatever it was though went just as quickly as it had come, her aloofness taking its place.

‘And have them all be angry at me again?’ she said rolling her eyes as she went back to what she had been doing. At her words I stiffened. I stiffened because I knew what she really meant. It wasn’t them she was worried about, The Six. It was him. Billy. I knew it was stupid to care given it wasn’t as though I could call her out on it. After all, what were we to each other? Friends? Something a little more than friends? Certainly not anything more substantial and even if we were there wasn’t anything I could say about her and Billy because I wasn’t sure what she and Billy were. Hell, they didn’t even like one another most of the time. I supposed he was to her what she was to me. Something to love, something to want, something that was just out of reach.

‘Exactly,’ I said hoping she’d concede, ‘I mean they’ve already been mad at you once why not another.’

‘Because the party can't start without me right?’ she quipped. She was fully dressed now, moving to grab the small bottle of pills she had left on her nightstand but as she did I moved to grab her, my hand encircling her wrist as I pulled her back onto the bed. She fell down with an ‘oomph’ and though I knew it was unfair I moved in to kiss her, hoping to pour that feeling I had wanted to bottle up into her, as if that would make her see she didn’t need anything else but me.

‘The party here needs you too,’ I mumbled as we broke apart.

 ‘I’m sure it’ll be alright for a couple of hours,’ she smirked.

‘Dais-’I said trying to push the feebleness from my tone but finding it all too present. She didn’t seem to hear it, actually, she didn’t even seem to be listening to me at all and instead moved back to grab her pills, slipping a couple of them into her hand before she choked them down. I watched her through it all, unsure as to what it was I wanted to say. What was there to say? Don’t go? Stay here with me? I didn’t even know what this was, love? Lust? Something else entirely?

Deep down I knew whatever it was it wouldn’t work. That I was allowing her to mess with my head the way Billy played with hers. Yet like her and Billy, I couldn’t allow myself not to enjoy the masochism of it all. Like her eagerly running to rehearsal for whatever tongue-lashing she was going to receive I ran to her just as easily. Fell into her bed time and time again. I needed to stop, to get some perspective, some self-control. But how could I? She was the sun, her warmth radiant around me whenever she was near.

‘Come on,’ she said, snapping me from my thoughts.

‘What?’ I asked confused.

‘Since you’re gonna miss me anyway might as well make yourself useful,’ she said slinging her fur-trimmed coat over her shoulders, flicking her hair from under the collar. Given that she hadn’t brushed it out it was wild and unruly, a product of us, which made my heart flutter. She leaned in, her blue eyes sparkling as she pressed a quick kiss to my lips and said, ‘you’re my ride.’

I should’ve said no. I should’ve got dressed and left, told her I couldn’t, I wouldn’t do this again. But then she smiled at me, that shining smile I loved so much, and I felt all my willpower melt away.

‘Okay,’ I mumbled, allowing her to kiss me once more before she moved away, giving me room to climb out of bed. I moved, shuffling to the edge of it as I watched her flutter around the room entirely unaware of the twinge in my heart. That was the problem with people like her, as radiant as the sun, as nice as it was to stand in their warmth it wasn’t long until you got burned.