#warren rhodes x you

[una-hopeless-romantic1118]

Part I: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐀 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬?—𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐨𝐣𝐚𝐬/𝐑𝐡𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬

hola bitches <3 haven’t updated in a year and this is nikolai unrelated so here’s me in my djats era. 

also planning on reading the book after i finish the show bc im incredibly late to the fandom. warren is so hot that it’s driving me to write a fanfic about him.

This chapter: Part 1 

Part 2  

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

(maybe??) epilogue

NO COPYING THANK YEW

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

timeline: according to show, by the end of eps. 2 

disclaimer: THE READER AND WARREN MEET DURING THE BAND’S HIATUS. i have not read the book (but i am planning to). i have no idea how the story is going to go. this is just a cute little imagine i vividly came up w bc im watching the show and i am thirsty for this man + bc i am mentally ill <3.   

warnings (in this chapter): sexual tension, warren being horny, mentions of STDs (as a joke), smoking, angst, cursing, drugs. Let me know if there are more but im pretty sure this is it.

summary (3rd person narrative): reader is an up-and-coming fashion designer. she’s gained popularity quickly by keeping up with the latest trends and for her lovable persona. she’s brought herself a yacht to celebrate her self success and invited her friends, and one of her newest friends in the Hollywood Industry, Karen Sirko, extended the invite to her band members and unintentionally played matchmaker with her womanizer of a bandmate and her work-focused friend.

had too much fun with this, so here u go :3

fic cover by me (made in canva, inspired by the tv show intro (guys im actually kinda good at something??))

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The party on her yacht was not only for Y/N to relax after a good season of fashion shows, but also to get absolutely wrecked, and get as high as an unrestrained balloon can get.

However, Y/N never drank to get drunk, nor has she even touched a speck of cocaine or drug. She’s learned how easily abused the two things can be, so she’s laying off.

She’d have a couple glasses of wine and champagne during late nights working with her designs. Smoking she figured was okay, as long as she kept control over how many she was having a day. She’d seen cocaine in play before, and it freaked her out how vulnerable it made her friends, and obviously, how hooked they were on it.

One would call her uptight, with the thinking and wants of a woman nearing her grave, but where she was now in the world was too important, too risky, to waste over alcohol and drugs. She achieved all she wanted to and all she wanted to be; her life was absolutely perfect. The fans, the money, the recognition. She loved it. She got her high from it all, and she was satisfied. 

But this party was reserved only for her closest friends, those from her hometown, and the new ones she’s made ever since stepping into the world’s spotlight.

Looking up at the large crowd in the center of her yacht, conversing and laughing, Y/N smiled to herself. She liked gatherings. She liked seeing her friends gathered together like this. Not to mention, on a yacht this perfect for gatherings more to come.

It was a picture perfect moment from where she was, lounging on her yacht couch, with the way the sun hit them perfectly, and the music playing from the background, drowned by their laughter and voices—until, someone staggered into them and broke the circle.

Everyone parted for him like the Red Sea. A curly, black-haired man, who apologized absentmindedly as he continues to stagger about, until he spots the woman in front of him.

No less than 6 feet away, he squints through the sunlight, and as if it were any help, squinted harder at the figure. 

Warren had come with his bandmates, Graham and Karen, on a mission to have some fun while they were on hiatus. Warren’s one-man mission however, was to see who the latest commotion was about, the highly praised, new talent of California, introduce himself, maybe get close enough to sleep with her.

Close enough? Warren chuckled to himself. I’m an up-and-rising drummer of a new band, she’ll be ringing me up every night wanting for more of me.

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────• 

Warren (in his boat): I had no idea what she even looked like. *chuckling* I went to the party with Karen, looking for a good time with this new fashion icon I had no idea what looked like until I had had enough of hearing that she was, apparently, a friend to every woman, and forbidden fruit to their husbands. And I thought, “I want some of that forbidden fruit. I want that. I want her.”

And then, my thoughts escalated to wanting her for the sake of saying “I had a taste of the forbidden fruit, you motherfuckers! *chuckling* I did what all of you couldn’t!”

Y/N (out in a patio): Rest assured, I was kind of a bitch back then. *laughing* I was so fucking stubborn. It wasn’t like I wanted to date anyways, or hook up, I was way into my work and my art. I wanted to go the distance by myself. No distractions, no asshat trying to hold me down from my potential. I took what I wanted, and I got it. If it’s not what I wanted, I could get rid of it pretty easily.

Except, y’know, this one thing was pretty anti-resistant.

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

Warren stepped out of the broken up circle of guests to set his eyes closer on the woman who sat in the yacht’s couch. 

Her eyebrows are furrowed at him. The way her lips tugged down into a scowl, her beautifully long legs on top of the another, though, hidden in her bell cut jeans.

She looked like she wasn’t having any fun. She looked serious, and mad. At him. 

What the fuck did I do?

High on cocaine, he still managed to make his way to the woman, giving her a friendly grin he hoped to make him less intimidating. If he needed to know where the lovely host was, he might as well ask a friend of hers. Of course, roughly assuming she is.

She’s every woman’s best friend after all. 

Y/N leans back and watches in disgust as the man staggers towards her, with a cigarette in one hand, and a free hand saluting her.

As a response, Y/N took in a deep inhale of her cigar. An act to prepare herself for whatever this man had up his sleeve.

Or in his pants, Y/N shivered.

“Hey! You from here?��� Warren began with a sincere smile.

Y/N gave him a tight-lipped smile. Reluctant. Obvious she wanted to be left alone. “Uh huh...”

“That’s cool. I’m not though, I’m from Pittsburg. There’s snow there, and I mean like, the things that, y’know, fall from the sky, not—”

“I think I get what you’re saying.” She interrupted, taking in a much longer drag after.

“Sure, yeah. Tha-That’s my bad.” Warren stammered. At the same time, he decides to sit right next to her. But it was more like a slump down, and it almost sent Y/N into the launch out of her seat.

He keeps a distant proximity from the woman, taking note of her discomfort.

But why would she be uncomfortable around him? The ladies he messed around with all told him how charming he was, how comfortable they felt around him, that he was all they could ever want in a guy.

That‘s not even his intention with her. 

This one lady, with her arms across her chest, furrowed eyebrows, eyes anywhere but on him seemed like she wanted nothing to do with Warren, and he would be lying to himself if it didn’t hurt his ego a bit.

“You’re free to tell me to fuck off after this,” he assured her, “but are you by any chance, familiar, with this fashion lady?”

Y/N shifts uncomfortably. She blinked at him multiple times. “Depends...that whole ton right in front of us are fashion ladies.”

Warren only hummed, accepting the hostility. “She’s new, I think.” He explained. “She had a fashion show this summer, and everyone went crazy about it.” He took a hit, giggling. “Apparently she’s everything a man could ask for.”

Stunned, she turns to the man in search for sarcasm or flirtatiousness, but all she found was genuine curiosity.

“Yeah?” She teased.

“It’s what I heard.” He shrugged. “You think I’ll be able to have her in my arms by the end of the night?”

Y/N’s eyebrows shoot up. 

This man doesn’t know who she is.

Sure, people would recognize the name Y/N Augustine in the fashion industry, and she’s been televised quite a few times. Celebrities outside of the fashion industry began to recognize her in public and even ring her. It doesn’t upset her he doesn’t know her, but she is a bit surprised.

Maybe she could make something out of this weird interaction.

“She’s a bitch.” She pretended to sigh exaggeratedly. “I’ve worked with her so many times, she’s unbelievable.”

The man next to her furrowed his eyebrows, visibly confused. “Oh.”

Y/N does everything in her might to stifle her laugh. She felt no sympathy for the man. In fact, she had no idea who he was either.

But all Warren could suddenly do was ogle the woman next to him. The way she’s fully turned to him now, he couldn’t help but stare into her deep cut halter top.

“You work for her?” He managed to continue.

“Something like that,” Y/N brought her cigarette to her lips. “Barely knows our names, doesn’t acknowledge our presence but when she does, it’s because we’re doing something wrong. Everything’s about needlework and pushing the needles in the right places. It gets a little too sad.”

Warren snickered at the joke. “She’d say that on purpose?”

“Hell no,” Y/N returned the snicker, blowing out a smoke. “Lady hasn’t had any in a while, and she makes it as obvious as possible.” Y/N looks into his eyes for the first time, only to manipulate herself the image of regret to him.

He notices. “...What?”

“I don’t think I can tell you any more...”

“No! Please, tell me more.” He chuckled at his sudden need to plea. “Save an innocent man here, please.”

Y/N pretends to ponder over it for a while, forcefully jutting out her lip. “I would be saving you…wouldn’t I?”

Warren nods frantically. “Yes! Again, please, before I end up catching a disease as a consequence.”

Y/N let a laugh break out of her, which surprised her. “Oh, hun, no. She doesn’t have STD. But...” She motions a finger for him closer.

He responds quickly, leaning forward towards her shoulder, but not doing so without peaking at her deep cleavage.

“Those sweet sexy rumors you keep hearing?” Y/N whispered, “they’re fake. She pays the press a shitload of money for them to only say nice things about her. She’s an old bastard, probably as old as my grandmother. It’s a miracle she’s still alive to find out what plastic surgery is. Maybe knew a bit too much, y’know? She looks like a wax figure now.”

Warren erupts laughing at the joke.

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Karen: How should I put this?...Y/N...has always been unpredictable. There isn’t any dull moment with her, and I think that comes from being an artist, y’know? She’s always up and going, welcoming unpredictability and ideas. No matter how beautiful and wild they were.

*smiling down* That’s exactly who she is. Unpredictable. Wild. Beautiful. In all the best ways.

Warren: *he sucks his teeth* I wasn’t used to girls not...flirting with me. I mean, there was Karen and Camilla, who I knew would gut me if I even dared to wink at them the wrong way. I got all the groupies I wanted, whenever and wherever...but there was something off about this one.

interviewer: In what way?

Warren: Well first of all, she never touched me anywhere. Never hinted to wanting me, at all.  It was kind of offending me every minute I spent talking to her.

Suddenly, *exhaling heavily, flicking his hand away* I forgot about the fashion goddess. It was just...her. Nameless girl with nice tits and a sense of humor that was refreshing. To me, at least.

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

The man’s mouth went agape. “Wouldn’t you get...fired for that?” He chuckled nervously.

“Nah.”

The man whistled in amusement. “Damn, girl.”

“Won’t be the end of the world.” She shrugged.

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Y/N: I had no idea what I was doing that afternoon. *chuckling* It was fun, though. I like messing with people.

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

Perhaps he would call this unlocking a national discovery, but Warren wanted to talk to her more than he wanted to fuck her. And it isn’t because he isn’t turned on by her at all, but fuck, did he really want her for more.

“She’s super gullible though,” Y/N insisted, turning her body back to the crowd. “You’ll have a chance.”

Warren shook his head with a laugh, the slight movement of his curls grabbing Y/N’s attention back. 

“What’s your name?”

“You need my name?” Y/N teased. “Were my tits not enough for you?”

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Warren: It was like a boner and my heart acting up at the same time. Fuck the high the nicotine gave me, I think I just found the love of my life. 

Graham: Entering the party with people we didn’t know, and with Karen talking it up with another guy, I was forced to look for Warren somewhere in the yacht, praying he was sprawled naked on the floor with a girl or two...but I did not expect him to be laughing it off with a woman next to him, who, I might add, both had their clothes on.

I mean, the man looked more alive than I’ve seen him, and it was all without any hardcore drugs.

So, I just kinda left them alone.

Warren: I wasn’t necessarily angry when she refused to tell me her name, but it actually made things 10 times worse for me. 

The whole mysterious shit got to me. It was hot.

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

“What if I want to know your name?” The man beside her kept insisting. “Is that too forward?”

“It’s Flora.” The lie rolled off her tongue casually. Y/N’s middle name was Flora, and while she wanted to keep up with the joke of lying about who she was to the man next to her, she just had to give him something about herself.

The man was charming, she wasn’t going to lie. Charming and attractive, with that headful of curls.

But she couldn’t just...give in completely. Jokes aside now, she wants men off the table for as long as she could.

She should stop this. Before she practically launches herself at this man.

“Flora...” Warren wagged a finger at her. “You’ve got a hold on me. And I don’t think it’s gonna leave for a while.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, while her stomach was infested with butterflies, and her heart banging against her ribcage, telling her to open up to this man.

This stranger, she added to herself, who you don’t know at all. “I bet.” She said flatly.

“Warren,” he introduced himself. He offers her his hand. 

“What are you doing?”

Warren’s eyes widen at her sarcastically. “Shake my hand. C’mon!”

Y/N blows in a smoke before placing her hand in his. Calloused they may be, Y/N felt a sense of attraction anyways.

“I’m a drummer.” He excused himself. “My hand’s probably scraping your skin alive—”

“You drum?” Y/N squealed out suddenly. “Shit...”

Warren’s grin only grows. “Do you?”

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Y/N: I could’ve stopped there, y’know? I could’ve kept my mouth shut when he mentioned he drums, but I also drummed. Past tense. My older brother was in a college band. So was my dad. Both were drummers, and they insisted I learn how to too.

Again, I could’ve stopped it. *scoffed* But it felt...wrong. I’ve met hundreds of drummers, amateur and professional, but I didn’t geek out as much as I did that time with Warren. So...what was the big deal? Why was it so much more exciting to find out this guy also knew how to play the drums?

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

Y/N cleared her throat in hopes to wake herself up from this trance. “I have to go—”

Warren’s grin fades, slowly but surely. “Right now?”

Y/N is already up from the couch. “...Yeah.” 

Warren’s mind is racing, revisiting his responses and trying to figure out how he could mess up such a thing. They were going on just talking and laughing so well...he couldn’t just leave it at that. 

She can’t leave it like this.

“Hold on, wait,” he gets up after her, investigating the blank look on her face. “Did I say something wr—”

“Oh, geeze, no.” Y/N let a giggle slip out at his sudden concern. At the sight of him, closer, she realizes he’s a lot taller than her. She also gets a good look at his downset and brown eyes, and while they normally attracted her, it was more than enough motivation to really get her head back in the game.

She couldn’t take it. She’s worked so hard for this job, and she can’t risk it all for a guy she just met.

Her back is already turned away from him, but Warren was still able to hear a quick,  “bye!” He watches her push through the crowd, a sudden emptiness sucking out of him the farther she gets.

•────���⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

a/n: comment if you want to be added to the taglist in the upcoming parts <3

THIS WAS SO FUN LOL

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[reasonsmandy]

Señorita

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — Hi, I hope you're still taking requests. I had one for Warren if that's okay. If you don't take requests, don't worry about it. The reader is Karen's friend, she is very insecure and shy, she doesn't have the best relationships with her family, she thinks everything is her fault and stuff like that, you know. She feels worthless. She is introduced to the band and gets close to Warren. When he finally confesses his feelings, she freaks out because she doesn't think she deserves it. All ending in fluff, though, please. I need a happy ending 😂

✧.* summary — Living with anxiety is never easy, and it never has been for as long as you've known yourself.It was difficult to explain and control all the questions that arose and lived in his head when doing anything. And Warren Rojas was the great game changer in helping you understand your value.

✧.* warnings — anxiety symptoms and description

✧.* word count — 2.2k

✧.* 🥁 — warren's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — this was so personal to me as a person with anxiety myself, I hope you guys like it as much as I do. And to everyone wondering, yes, I am still taking request. Just having a slow time with writing. Good reading :)

With every step you took through the corridors, breathing became more difficult, you had no idea that Karen's invitation to participate in the launch of the album 'SevenEightNine' would involve all this crowd around you. You even liked the dress you had chosen with the keyboardist earlier at your house, but after analyzing each one there you found yourself miserable.

You tried to focus on your breathing but everything around you seemed to blend together and become just a bunch of noise and mess. You feel someone approaching, but not just any proximity, but something that only someone who knew you would do.

“Hey sweets, you good?” The drummer's voice is what you notice, Warren watches you with clear concern.

All you can do is deny it, with very discreet movements. He takes your hand and brings it to his chest. “Can you feel my breath? How about breathing with me?”

You shake your head, not knowing if you can actually be here. Hating yourself for ruining the whole event and drawing attention to yourself because you don't know how to deal with your feelings alone. He seems to notice your thoughts wandering to unwanted places, gently pulling you through the crowd.

You see him open one of the sound booths, and you barely notice when he sits you down on the cushions, but little by little the sound that used to be so deafening becomes distant and makes you hear Rojas better. He sits next to you, and like most of the band members he knew very well how to help you when these things happened.

“Here..." He says, placing one of your hands on his curls. “I know you love feeling them, do whatever you want."

You let out a laugh, which calms him down when he sees that you are slowly regaining your breath. You stroke his hair, closing your eyes to focus on the texture of it, and finally his breathing returns to normal and is replaced by a great guilt.

“Fuck, I'm ruining your night Warren.” You say, walking away, and you don't notice him getting upset about it.

“What? Of course not!” He tries to calm you down, looking for your hands, but it wasn't believable to you.

“I'm sorry, I'm really sorry." You felt tears coming to the edge of your eyes.

“Oh Hermosa, it's okay.” He caresses your hands, trying his best to dispel your thoughts. “I'm here for you, everything is gonna work out.”

“I'm ruining Karen's night.” Your speech becomes slurred.

“You're not ruining anything, it's okay. I'll go there and explain what happened and I'll come back here to keep you company.” He was looking right into your eyes,and that woke up the butterflies in your stomach.

“You really don't have to.”

“I know, but I want to.” He smiles, getting up. “And besides, you're a better company anyways. Don't move, I'll be right back.” You try to hold back your smile, trying to decipher as much as possible the feelings that were growing and manifesting within you.

…

When you met Karen Sirko it was assumed that boys would come in the package, and despite not knowing how to deal with them at first you decided to try. It wasn't very easy with your anxiety screaming and wandering through every space of thoughts. You couldn't get the thought that they would hate you out of your head, and it was getting stronger when you pressed the doorbell.

You played with the rings in your hand, avoiding looking at the door while you waited, you heard a curious noise that made you startle. After a while the door opens, you are faced with a pair of dark eyes, a loose smile and messy curls. You don't notice the way your eyes widen and the speed you look away, but he does and he frowns, widening his smile.

“May I help you señorita?” Your legs shake with the change of language, and that's when Warren noticed one of his newest talents: noticing every detail of you.

“Uh- yeah, I…” You stop, take a deep breath trying to compose yourself and hope he doesn't think this is because you're attractive to him like most people assume. “I'm looking for Karen?”

“Oh, of course.” The man whose name you still didn't know makes space between him and the door. “She said you were coming. Hey Karen Karen, your friend is here.”

You come across a not so big but cozy living room, the man with curly hair accompanies you and points you to sit on the sofa, you feel embarrassed for being observed ashamed for being there and hoping that Karen would show up soon to get attention to herself.

“My name is Warren, by the way.” You smile small, avoiding looking into his eyes. "Do you want something to drink? We have water, beer… and maybe milk but I'm not sure.”

You laugh, and he thinks it's adorable, and he's happy to have managed to make you relax.

“I think I'd like some water.” You speak, taking advantage of the bittersweet pain of anxiety slowly easing in you to talk better.

“Your wish is an order!” He salutes you and walks to the kitchen.

“Y/N.” You say, making him turn around halfway, with a curious look. “That's my name, Y/N”

“It's great to meet you Y/N”

…

You knew that if Warren Rojas wasn't so nice all the time, so precious, só caring and of course… so fucking hot! You wouldn't be in the situation in the first place, you have been avoiding him since the fateful day on the porch of the house where he had declared himself to you. And even so, it was no use since he had made a point of welcoming you in the midst of any situation.

A few days ago Karen and consequently the others had invited you to a movie night, you already felt more at home with all of them and your anxiety didn't surface as much unless some trigger happened.

You wake up with your head resting on the blonde's shoulder, blinking a few times to get your bearings. You adjust yourself on the upholstery, noticing the rest of the band sleeping in positions that would clearly give you a stiff neck in the morning, gently and trying not to make noise, you get up and pass between the stretched out bodies, laughing when you think that they actually looked like a crime scene.

Sneaking away, you head to the counter to smoke and try to calm down. Normally you woke up "scared" when you were in a place other than your home, your hands were shaking and your heart was racing in your chest, so you already knew that you would need time to get back to sleep. The indecisive down wind, which was cold but not enough to make you look for a coat, hits your skin when you rest your body on the wood in front of you.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to recover and slowly calm your senses when two faint knocks echo through your ears. You open your eyes, looking back to find Rojas with his eyes clearly indicating that he had recently woken up.

“You good señorita?” He asks, and after making himself noticeable he approaches you slowly.

You nod your head as you yawn, he smiles small and tenderly and you feel your body melt. Recently you felt more than loved around him, he always seemed to be doing everything for your good, to make you feel comfortable everywhere and you never understood why. In fact it was something that haunted you, the feeling that he was going out of his way for someone unnecessary like you.

“Did you lose sleep?" He asks, leaning on the same spot as you while lighting a cigarette.

“Kinda.” You clarify, slowly being flooded with questions in your head. “You don't need to stay, you can go and rest."

“I want to.” That's the simple answer he gives, one that doesn't answer any of the 839 different questions that pop into your head every second.

He notices you are uneasy, and risks thinking that he could have done something bad. You avoid as much as possible looking into the eyes that leave you without ground.

“What happened? Did I do something?" His voice was so calm and sweet that it made you angry. How can he be so kind to someone who never even helped him?

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, and he frowns in question.

“I don't understand what you mean.”

“You're always so kind to me…” You try to explain, but he seems more lost.

“I don't get it, you're mad at me because I'm kind to you?” He scratches his scalp, turning his head to the side.

“I'm mad at you because I don't understand. I don't deserve all this, and you've been amazing from the beginning while I…” You don't finish your sentence, and he comes closer. “I don't know.” You let out with a breath.

“If you knew how incredible you are, you would understand that this is the way you should be treated by everyone." A simple sentence completely deconstructed you, you took a deep breath.

“Not everyone has to deal with my constant anxiety, what you do is…”

“Is caring.” He completes your sentence, holding your hands gently. "I care about you deeply. Because seeing you well makes me feel good, and fuck Y/N! I love seeing you well. If you only knew the impact your smile has on me, oh boy, you'd be speechless.”

“You're confusing me." You're honest, releasing your hands from his.

He gently reaches out with one of his hands to cup your chin, his dark eyes meeting your teary ones. He smiles small, you mimic him without realizing it. Warren caresses your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't notice falling.

“I'll make it clear for you.” He whispers, and you tremble under his touch. “I love you, and I cannot pretend that I don't care about you at all. Because there's not a single second of my day that I'm not thinking about you.”

Your pupils widen, you feel your legs give out, and he doesn't do anything else. The drummer moves away from you, takes one of your hands and kisses gently.

“That's all I need you to know." He says, walking away. He stops at the broken doorway, making you break the spell of the questions. “You can have my room, I sleep in the living room. Don't worry about waking up time, here you know we sleep until necessary." He laughs, making you let out a weak laugh. "Goodnight señorita”

…

Warren had contacted everyone who might be concerned about your absence from the band party, and then picked up a considerable amount of snacks, sweets, and a soda to share with you. He knocks on the glass a few times, making you notice his presence and run to help him with everything he was carrying, unable to contain your laughter.

“I can't believe you've done that”.You say between laughs, putting what he had picked up on the floor so you could sit there and eat.

“You know what they say, if you can't go to the party, bring it to you” He says, running one of his fingers through his mustache as he settles down next to you.

“They say that?" You inquire as you laugh, he joins you with his unique laugh.

He shrugs, eating one of the snacks. “I think so”

“Thank you Rojas.” You say affectionately, and for the first time he notices. You look him in the eyes. “Thank you for worrying about me. For everything you do, I can't actually thank you enough…”

“You don't have to.” He makes sure you know. "I'm just glad you're okay.”

“Was what you said true?” You speak so quietly that he's surprised he heard you.

“Well señorita, I kinda say a lot of things.” He teases, and you can't help but feel your body light, calm next to him.

“That night.” You make yourself clear, and for the first time in your life you see Warren Rojas nervous.

He takes a deep breath. “Yes, but look, I understand if you don't feel the same and I will understand if you need time…”

You know what? Fuck the questions and uncertainties! You hold his face in both hands, kissing the drummer's lips with all the love for him that was growing in you. He is taken by surprise, but soon wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you close, incredulous and happy, he enjoys every second feeling your closeness and kissing you with love and passion.

“Does that mean?” He asks after the kiss, his pretty eyes filled with hope and love.

“I love you too Rojas.” You kiss him once again, sitting on his lap.

“God I love this, but I better warn you that I can't control myself if you do this.” He whispers in joke, kissing your nose.

“I don't care.”

He chuckles, holding your face with both hands. "I know you're trying to ignore the questions and be brave, which by the way I'm so proud of you, but we can't have sex in the studio. Unfortunately.”

You hide your face in shame in his neck, and you know as long as he's close. Safe you will be.

...

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[its-vannah]

The Alternative | Warren Rojas x Reader

A/N: Again, this took over a week for me to write because I get distracted easily. It's a shorter one, more like a blurb, but it's cute and does the job 💕

Request: hiiii warren request🫣 can you write a one shot where warren and reader sneak off at camilla’s housewarming party in ep. 4 to get high and there is a lot of sexual tension and they end up hooking up. THANK YOU

Warnings: Getting high, mentions of the band fighting, reader and Warren sneaking off

Taglist: @celestialstar111 @stokzr

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

There were many things you could look past when it came to The Six's behavior. Their constant arguments were one of them.

Once the disagreements started, you knew better than to stick around and watch it play out. So you just took your things and sat on the back porch, waiting for the yelling to die down.

On most days, it was Billy telling everybody to fuck off. Other days, it was Eddie telling Billy to fuck off. And some days, it was Karen telling them both to fuck off.

Being their neighbor, you heard most of their arguments. I mean, there wasn't much space between your houses and they weren't exactly quiet people.

Regardless, you had grown to love them. You, Karen, and Camila hung out every Thursday night at your place so they could get a break from whatever shit the boys were getting into.

Other days, Warren came over with his drumsticks to test how they sounded on your pots and pans—which he claimed "sounded different" than the ones they used at their house.

He'd spend hours just banging on different pieces of metal until he found a beat he liked. Then, he'd take your face in his hands, loudly say, "I'm a genius", and run back to show Billy what he's figured out.

Of course, Billy told him to talk to him when he wasn't high on marijuana—which wasn't often.

Those were the moments you enjoyed. Not wanting to ruin your friendships with the band, you stayed out of any drama that ensued between them for your own sanity. Sure, you had plenty of things you could say, but you'd never be able to finish a sentence without being spoken over.

So you kept your mouth shut, grabbed a bottle of wine, and sat in what had become "your chair."

Tonight was like most nights, the band was having a small spat. Billy was irritated that Daisy was there, Graham and Karen were God knows where, Eddie was sulking, and Camila was trying to fix everything.

You were in the same spot as always, rocking back and forth with a bottle in your hand, looking up at the endless array of stars.

It was peaceful and oddly humbling—knowing you were just a tiny fragment in the world. God, you were drunk off your ass.

Light footsteps behind you broke your train of thought and you watched as Warren came into view.

"Hey, neighbor," He said with a smile, nursing a bottle of beer, "Mind if I join you?"

"They're still fighting?"

He shrugged, sitting beside you in the other rocking chair, taking a swig of his drink, "Billy's not happy."

"When is he?" You scoffed, throwing back your wine, finishing the bottle, "He's always in a fucking mood."

"That's Billy for you. Always grumpy."

You dipped your head back with a groan, "I don't know who's worse—him or Eddie."

"Oh, Billy. It's definitely Billy."

Unable to stop yourself, you burst out laughing. The alcohol was starting to take a toll on your physical state, "So, what brings you out here? You stargaze often?

He grinned at your teasing tone, breaking eye contact and looking down at his feet, shaking his head, "No, no, just wanted to keep you company. And see if you'd do weed with me."

"Better than the alternative."

"What's the alternative?"

You gave him a knowing look, "Not doing weed with you."

- - -

You and Warren were laying on the floor of the back porch, laughing hysterically at something he said—but you couldn't exactly remember what he said—and neither did he. That itself added to the humor of it all. At least, it did for you.

Nothing could disturb the two of you, not the lights going out, Julia's crying, or the loud sound of the swarm of people inside of the house.

"So she walked in to see Eddie in a dress and Graham in nothing but his—his—" You couldn't even get the words out without laughing.

Warren slapped the wooden boards beside him, laughing so hard he was practically snorting, "I wasn't any better, I was a pirate."

You kicked your legs, holding your stomach, "I can't—I can't breathe—"

Warren sat up, leaning over you, "I can give you CPR."

You were pretty out of it, but you understood what he was saying. The thing is—you didn't want him to give you CPR.

"We could just go to my place instead."

Warren raised his brows, "You think we can make it that far?"

"I think we can at least make it to my front lawn."

He got on his knees, grabbing the rocking chair to pull himself up. The chair swung back, causing him to fall back down to the ground.

You looked over at him—and as soon as his eyes met yours, the two of you burst out laughing.

Pushing yourself up off the ground, you reached your hand out, "Come on, let's get you out of those clothes."

You've never seen him run faster in your life.

[imiwrites]

can you write something for graham dunne where you’re apart of the band and secretly dating but you accidentally tell the band that you’re dating cuz you were drunk sorry if that was confusing 😭😭

I Said What?

Graham Dunne x Fem!Reader

Sypnosis: You knew you weren't meant to say anything, but you can't help it when Graham is just so comfy.

WC: 1k

Warnings: drinking, accidental confessions

A/N: The hype for DJATS has died down now but I still eat it up. I love this silly little book with my whole heart.

masterlist

Getting drunk wasn’t something you weren’t used to. Since The Six had risen to fame, parties were a common occurrence for you and the band. There was a lively buzz coming from the crowd, and the alcohol in your system made you feel fuzzy on the inside. You were sitting next to Camilla on the couch, talking quietly to yourselves as the party continued. Occasionally, your eyes would meet with Graham’s, and he offered you a small smile.

“Who are you looking at?” Camilla nudged your side teasingly.

That was the only thing you hated about these parties. Graham. Your boyfriend. The tow of you had agreed to keep your relationship on the down low, especially with the band’s newfound fame. The last thing you needed was for the whole world to know about your relationship. Unfortunately, the whole world meant everyone, including your bandmates. It’s not that you didn’t trust them. You did, for the most part, but someone could easily slip up.

“Nothin’,” you shrugged, directing your attention back on Camilla, “Tryna see if I could spot anyone slightly interesting.” “No one’s caught you’re attention yet?” she hums, “You’ve looked over that way a few times now.” 

You inwardly curse at yourself for thinking Camilla wouldn’t notice your longing stares. She notices everything. 

“No, there’s never really anyone interesting at these parties anyway.” You say, grabbing your beer and taking a long sip of it. You screw up your nose a little, the strong taste hitting the back of your throat. 

Camilla nods her head, seemingly satisfied by that response. 

»↠ ≈☆≈ ↞« 

Slowly, the party began to die down. The people left, and the house was now a complete mess, solo cups and bottles everywhere, leaving the floor quite sticky, and a prominent smell of alcohol lingered in the house. Even though the house was in desperate need of cleaning, you and the band sat on the couches, talking about everything and anything. The alcohol you drunk no longer had you feeling bubbly and talkative, instead you now felt sleepy. 

The need for sleep was getting to your head, and fast. You turn to the side, resting your head on Graham’s shoulder, allowing for your eyes to flutter shut. 

“Is my shoulder not good enough to be leant on?” Warren feigns shock from the other side of you. You opened your eyes, noticing him and the others actively staring at you. 

“No, I think I prefer my boyfriend, but thanks for the offer.” You say, smiling sweetly, before leaning back on Graham’s shoulder with your eyes closed.

“Your what?” Warren yells, his eyes flicking between you and Graham. 

Graham’s face is bright red, but you seem to out of it to realise what you actually said. 

“Shh, Warren, ‘m tired.” You groan instead, leaning in further to Graham’s touch. 

“I think it’s time for you to go to bed.” he whispers into your hair, also using it to partly hide his face.

You grumble slightly, but don’t necessarily disagree, so Graham gently says goodnight to the other band members, leading you back into your room. He places you down on the bed with ease, and he lifts up your legs to drape the blanket over you, knowing how much you hate waking up cold.

He flicks the lightswitch off, looking back at you and watching the way your chest rises and falls with each even breath you take. He smiles to himself, before shutting the door softly.

“Wanna tell us what that was about, Graham?” Eddie grins, and Graham felt his face flush.

“Well, I mean, Y/N, kinda said it all.” Graham says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“And you didn’t think to tell us?” Billy asks, and Graham shook his head.

“It’s not like that… it’s just… y’know, Y/N was worried. Rumours, all that shit. We didn’t really need anything going out to the public just yet. A-And it’s not that we don’t trust you guys! We do, but we were just getting big when we first got together, and we didn’t want someone to accidentally… slip up or anything.” Graham replies, trying to keep it together.

“I get it, don’t worry. And hey, for what it’s worth, you guys are really cute together. You got good, Graham.” Billy grins at him, and Graham smiles back.

»↠ ≈☆≈ ↞«

When you wake up the next morning, you aren’t shocked to find yourself still in your clothes from last night, makeup smudged everywhere, and a pounding headache. You get up slowly, taking a sip of the water left on your bedside table, undoubtedly from Graham. Holding your head, you change into some more comfortable clothes, an oversized shirt and a pair of leggings. Begrudgingly, you make your way out to the kitchen, hoping to find some paracetamol to stop the pain in your head. 

“Well, good morning to you, too.” Graham grins. He’s sitting at the table with Eddie and Warren, eating a piece of toast. 

“Morning,” You grumble back, searching through the cupboards for a tablet.

“Here, let me help you, love,” Graham says, getting up to help you search.

Hearing the name he just called you, you spun around fast, looking at him with wide eyes. “What?” you half-laugh, half stare blankly at him.

“You don’t remember?” Graham laughs, squeezing your side and planting a kiss on the top of your head. 

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “No…” you whisper. 

He leans down, whispering the events of last night in your ear. 

“I said what?!”

[bumblesimagines]

Karen Sirko

it was just for fun.

did you tell anyone we hooked up?

i've moved on, and so should you.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical DJATS warnings, mentions of Billy addictions, mentions of drug usage, angst?, sad ending?, suggestive/BRIEF sexual content

Sorry for lack of activity! I got lost in the sauce of Stardew Valley ����

As much as Karen desired to get hammered and dance the night away, her nerves jittered with anxiety, rendering her uncomfortable and almost irritable as she nursed a beer and remained seated on a couch pushed up against the corner of the room. She desperately wanted to get up and enjoy the party Camilla had so lovingly created in celebration of Warren's birthday but she simply couldn't. Not when he had yet to arrive. 

Long before joining any sort of band, Karen had made a very clear rule for herself: never date a fellow bandmate under any circumstances. She refused to be known as 'the girlfriend' in any band, let alone to the whole world; but of course, nothing could ever go according to plan. Especially after Daisy Jones and (Y/N) (L/N) joined them, filling the spot of the last sixth member and adding 'Daisy Jones and' to their band name. 

The two had been whirlwinds from the get-go if Karen had to be honest. Daisy Jones was a gorgeous girl full of spirit and a stubborn attitude that oft' clashed with Billy but she was sweet and Karen could see the fragility behind her big doe eyes, always at the edge of a cliff just as Billy had once been.

(Y/N) was a handsome young man with a talent for playing bass and a love for mischief, something that had him and Warren gravitating toward each other the second they met (though Karen assumed doing shrooms together fully cemented their friendship). The idea of another guy joining the band unnerved Karen but after watching how (Y/N) handled Daisy, comfortability settled on her bones fairly quickly. 

And that comfortability- annoyingly enough- turned into attraction over the next few weeks, leading to a tipsy make-out by the side of the house where (Y/N)'s hand found its way down her pants. The image of (Y/N) popping his slick, wet fingers into his mouth to clean them while giving her a lazy yet cheeky smirk had imprinted in her mind for days to come, leaving her to mess up during practice when she'd been too busy staring at his hands. She should've taken it as a warning, some sort of sign from God or the universe to leave the hurricane of a man alone, but she ignored it. 

The second time Karen found herself giving in to her attraction, it'd been after Warren invited (Y/N) over while Daisy and Billy battled out their differences elsewhere under Teddy's urging. She'd managed to convince Warren and Graham to give them some time alone under the guise of sending them out to the store for some essentials, allowing for the two to have another make-out on the couch and subsequent hookup in her nearby bedroom. She found herself surprised when she realized she hardly minded the love marks scattered across her skin, noting with flushed cheeks and a racing heart he'd done them in places she could easily hide. 

After the third time, the ever-observant Camila teasingly noted how much Karen seemed to enjoy (Y/N)'s presence. Karen laughed it off and gave her a playful shove but once inside her room and forced alone with her thoughts, the suffocating thought of commitment and the expectations surrounding relationships consumed her. She'd seen how broken Camila had been the day she discovered his infidelities, the hollowness in her typically vibrant eyes when he'd gone off to rehab and left her to temporarily be a single mother. The thought of dealing with that kind of heartbreak and betrayal nauseated her. 

It led to Karen sitting on that damn couch with a cool beer in hand and darting eyes searching for (Y/N) in the crowd. She had to clear things up, even if her late-night contemplation had left her realizing the thought of dating him made her skin tingle with delight. She refused to be anything other than Karen Sirko; not girlfriend, not wife, absolutely nothing other than the keyboardist for Daisy Jones and The Six. Karen had been free for years, free to do whatever she wished and whomever she desired. All her dreams and goals and hopes for the future never included someone else, yet part of her wanted to change that. 

"(Y/N)! My man!" Warren's gleeful voice reached her ears and she stood up from the coach so quickly she nearly stumbled over her shoes. She set her beer aside and walked through the crowd in the living room until she reached the front door, watching Warren and (Y/N) exchange a tight embrace. "Glad you could make it!"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." (Y/N) laughed, a sound so warm and bright it briefly calmed her constricting heart. He handed his gift off to Warren and greeted the Dunne's with an easy-going smile, his attention ultimately falling to her last after patting Eddie's shoulder. 

"We need to talk." She told him, leaning in for a quick embrace before she grasped his wrist and led him further into the house, ensuring they were far from nosy ears and Graham's lingering eyes. The first secluded spot she found was a dimly lit hallway coincidentally leading outside to the very spot they'd first locked lips. She tried forgetting that night.

"What is it?"

"Did you tell anyone we hooked up?" Karen asked him, voice sounding more accusatory than necessary. "Camila... Camila knows something, I guess. I trust her but I don't want the guys to look at me differently."

"I don't kiss and tell." (Y/N) responded, his hands sliding into his pockets and head tilting to the side. "It was just for fun, anyway. Besides, Warren's been begging me to meet his girlfriend's friend for a double date, or something like that. I don't think it'd look good if she knew I hooked up with a bandmate." 

"What?" The word fell from her lips immediately, her eyes widening and her heart squeezing even tighter. Of course, she'd pulled him aside to at least make a half-hearted promise of never doing it again, but hearing he'd been planning on doing the same sucked the air right out of her lungs. 

(Y/N) pursed his lips, only sparing her a sympathetic grimace. "Yeah, I meant to tell you sooner but it slipped my mind. Listen, Karen," He raised his hand and pressed his palm to her cheek, the sympathy on his features making her want to tear her hair out. "You're more talented than the idiots we play with, and I think you're an amazing girl. That said, I've moved on, and so should you. Maybe give Graham a chance? He's got it bad for you." 

Karen remained still as he pressed a fleeting kiss to her forehead and stepped out of the hallway, her eyes blankly staring into the wall before her whilst she tried processing everything that'd been dumped on her in a matter of a couple minutes. In the end, she'd gotten what she wanted in the first place, yet her lips quivered and her eyes flooded with tears she refused to shed.

[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."

[ageofstarkey]

sebastian chacon (+friends) x selfies 📸

[vanillann]

C R U E L S U M M E R - G. DUNNE X FEMALE!READER

i. ii. iii.

inspired by cruel summer by taylor swift and this request!

word count: 2.5k

a/n: so i’m writing for daisy jones and the six now… thank you for the request my lovely human i hope you enjoy!

graham dunne masterlist

Summer’s in Laurel Canyon were downright cruel. The AC was pathetic with the random gust of cool air that sputtered out, the harsh desert environment left little room for shade, and Graham Dunne was too much to admire as he gambled with Warren and Eddie. His arms strained against his too tight shirt as he shook the dice between his clenched fist, his smile wide and his giggles floating throughout the humid room, and his eyes not focused on me.

My mood was sour as he ignored me, not intentionally, but rather for good reason. Relationships between band members weren’t always well received and with The Six finally getting a break after their new feature with up and coming star Daisy Jones, it wasn’t the time to announce to the world or even our own little world of friends here at Laurel Canyon. It was agreed upon since the night this relationship, if you could call it that, started; and yet I sat with a pout and annoyance as he finally let the dice fly from his palms.

In a true Graham Dunne fashion, neither of the dice landed on the table but much rather flew in two very different directions. Warren was quick to take off after one, screaming with laughter as he chased it down, while Graham jumped after the other that was rolling to the loveseat. My loveseat.

His hand clamped over the die before it was lost for good under the couch, along with Warren’s favorite lighter and Karen’s black nail polish, his smile bright as daylight when his eyes traveled up my legs, which were exposed due to the sweltering heat of the California afternoon.

His eyes finally met mine, his smile once boyish turned gentle as if he had aged into a respectable man looking at me, but nothing was respectable about his eyes which glowed with desire. We watched each other, taking in the silent moment shared in the common room as everyone occupied themselves with more important issues. Nobody was bothered by us as we watched each with harbored breaths and clammy hands. Like a soft spoken prayer, his fingers let go of the dice and ran up the back of my calf. His eyes bored into mine and I felt the pounding in my chest of the syllables of his name.

“What did it roll, Graham Cracker?” Warren came barreling around the corner, the black plastic clutched in his hand. Graham muttered under his breath, “one”, as his eyes pinned me to the leather that burned my skin. Or maybe it was his eyes burning me, or even my anger for earlier burning from the inside out.

“Devil eyes!” Warren threw his arms above his head.

“Dude, it’s definitely snake eyes,” Eddie, reached for the cube but Warren was quick to draw back. Warren giggled as Eddie jumped from his seat with every intention of getting the little piece of plastic between his bass ridded fingers but Graham’s guitar calloused fingers were on my skin and his eyes that had mastered reading sheet music were reading me. My body was quick to leave the tension that has collected around me, standing up and leaving without another word and heading to the back garden for a moment of peace with my anger.

Who did he think he was? Giving me gentle smiles and bedroom eyes when he knew I couldn’t say anything, when I couldn't touch his unruly curls and sweaty forehead with my own. He was playing me for a fool in a room full of people. He knew how he made me feel, how hard it was to love him from a distance without screaming it from the garden gates for all of Laurel Canyon to hear.

“Hey!”

Again, who did he think he was?

“What?” I did my best to keep the attitude tuck away, but as I spun around I could see the hurt in his puppy dog eyes.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine. Living in bliss,” I huffed quickly before continuing, “No of course it’s not okay. You can’t look at me like that,” my fingers pointed in the direction of the house.

“Like what?” Graham laughed under his breath, confusion written in the way he bunched his eyebrows together like he always did. I hate knowing him. I love him.

“Like we’re in a relationship,” I snapped.

“Like we’re in a relationship? What does that mean?” His breathing felt wounded, my ax of words straight to his lungs.

“A relationship is public knowledge, we aren’t public.”

“We both agreed it would be bad. I don’t understand why you're mad,” his hand reached for mine before he flinched back, looking over his shoulder. Anger became rage as he turned back around, but even in the moment I knew it wasn't fair. I wasn’t being fair.

“I’m mad because,” I took a pause, “Because.”

No words followed.

“Are you changing your mind?”

No words.

“I’m going out, I’ll see you later.”

Communication might not be my strong suit I was quickly learning as I stormed up the stairs, going straight for the phone that hung on the wooden panel wall.

“Daisy! Do you know any good parties tonight?”

Daisy always knew of a party and always welcomed company, so her excitement was clear as we wandered into a large house and drank until we were stumbling like teenagers wasted on life and parent’s vodka. Her arm was wrapped around my shoulder and her hair was tangled into my earrings, but we didn’t care.

I didn’t care, not about how much getting her hair out would hurt, or Graham, or how much getting Graham out my heart would hurt. I couldn’t keep him there, not with this anger waging a war everytime we couldn’t touch in a crowded room. I couldn’t keep these secrets anymore not even if it meant keeping him, and it was killing me. I couldn’t keep killing myself.

“Have you ever loved someone to yourself?”

I couldn’t tell what possessed me to ask Daisy this question, but has we broke into someone’s room and collapsed on their bed it stumbled from my mouth, slurred and heavy in the air. I almost rephrased my sentence, but she hummed to herself as if she felt it in her bones. Daisy felt everything in her bones, I was convinced. Maybe that was what had me asking knowing Daisy had big feelings, the only thing that could revival Daisy’s emotions could be my feelings for Graham.

“I have. It kills, man”

“It does more than kill, it gives me fever dreams and makes angel’s laugh at me.”

Silence took over, beside the loud downstairs and the thumping of both our heart rates; coke tended to do that. Atleast, I blamed the coke rather than blaming the feeling of realizing I couldn’t keep Graham if I couldn’t do it for the world.

“You should write for The Six, you’re better than Billy,” Daisy giggled beside me, turning to snuggle her face into my neck with a labored and tired breath. I smiled and let her rest against me, enjoying the new closeness with Daisy. It was nice, breathing the same air as someone who understood you. As my mind wandered over the blooming friendship with the red-head beside me, I noted her breathing go soft and light snores falling from her dark purple lips. I laid with her a little longer, not worried about how we would get home, but rather wondering if Graham was thinking about me.

Was he wondering about my outburst? Or maybe he was worried, it was starting to breach on ungodly hours of the morning and I still wasn’t home. Before I could ponder over it much more, I rolled from Daisy’s side and reached for the phone on the bedside table, my fingers spinning the dial like second nature until the gentle ring met my ear. The ring barely finished before someone picked up.

“(Y/N)?” Graham’s panicked voice was clear, even in my half high state, and my heart sputtered like a broken car. He was thinking of me, we were thinking of each other. I loved him, stupid girl.

“How’d you know?”

“I didn’t, I’m just an optimist,” even after my attitude he was being so tender as he spoke to me. Was he as stupid as me? Did he love me?

“I hate sneaking around.”

“I know,” he took a rushed breath that echoed off my bones, “Where are you? I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone. I wanna see your face.” If I was more sober I probably would’ve forgotten what I was talking about altogether as I gushed over him.

“I don’t think I can tell your face, I don’t think I can handle you looking at me like a little devil,” I looked back over at Daisy’s sleeping form, taking note of her chest rising and falling with a content sigh.

“Devil? I knew you were upset, but I didn’t know you were that upset,” his laugh was devotion of emotion, “Please tell me where you are. I need to see those angel eyes, even if you’re rolling them at me.” Desperation was clear in his voice and I think it half killed me.

“If you come pick me up, you have to take Daisy home.”

“Of course, always, now where are you two?” I vomited the address out, telling him where in the house we were before hanging up abruptly. Time felt it barely passed before the door was slowly being cracked open and he was there.

He hadn’t even stepped in the room and he took over me. He was there all around me like a warm fever and a cold shiver all in one. He stepped in the room, turning his back to us to shut the door gently to not upset Daisy and I knew he wasn’t the devil here, but I was. Or maybe we both were I couldn’t tell.

“Daisy’s staying at this motel with this guy this weekend, will you take her there?” I give Graham a second to even think about bringing us up, I still wasn’t sober or ready. I don’t know which one I would blame but at the time it was both.

“You know I will, I stole Billy’s car so it’s his gas,” Graham shrugged as he wandered to Daisy’s side and threw her over his shoulder as if it was his guitar. I wanted to make a joke about how mad Billy would be that Graham stole his car, but I couldn’t be the girl who ignored it and joked like we’re fine. I suppose both Daisy and I felt everything in our bones.

I quietly followed behind Graham, his gentle hands careful to not let Daisy hit her head on any walls as we wandered to Billy’s Firebird. Graham reached to place Daisy in the backseat, but my throat finally produced words.

“I’ll take the back.”

No argument as Graham placed a still unconscious Daisy in the passenger seat and started the car. At some point Graham had pulled a slip of paper from Daisy’s jacket with the address of the motel and was silently driving with the hum of the radio. Nerves took over my skin in the silence, I hated silent car rides. I felt like a child, her parents mad about god knows what, and I wasn’t allowed to enjoy someone in that moment. I couldn’t listen to the sound of anger filling the car and even if Graham wasn’t angry I could feel his emotions trap me in the backseat.

I didn’t realize I was crying until Graham stopped the car in front of Daisy’s motel room and started to panic.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay? Did you take something? Who gave you the coke?”

I said nothing, getting out of the car and heading for the lobby in hopes I could find something to drink to calm the lump in my throat. Graham didn’t follow, opening the passenger door and dealing with Daisy. As I wandered through the door I noticed the owner slumped in an office car and a neon sign that illuminated a vending machine with different sodas. I patted my pockets, searching for quarters but came up short.

“What do you want?” He was behind me, his hand reaching around to show two quarters, heads up, in his palm.

“Pepsi,” I muttered under my breath.

“You know Coke is better,” Graham wandered around me, placing the quarters in the slot and selecting the Pepsi button.

“You have horrible taste.”

“With drinks, maybe, but not with women,” he pulled the drink out of the button, taking the top off and passing it to me, “I mean I picked you.”

I knew we had to talk about it.

“Why’d you pick me? If we can’t be open,” I took a gasp of air, “Then why me? Because I know what you want-”

“Do you know what I want? Because if you did you wouldn’t ask me that.”

“Look Graham I can’t handle your riddles right now, I’m trying to tell you I love you,” I took a quick sip from my drink and laughed under my breath, “Ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?”

His eyes stopped wandering over the stained carpet beneath our feet, suddenly slowly traveling up my legs. This time when he looked up his grin wasn’t the same as before with a respectable glow, his devilish grin looked at me with a piercing honesty that made me feel heavenly.

“Oh, my angel,” Graham started walking closer to me, “I’ve never loved anything you’ve said more. I’ve never loved anyone like you before.”

I felt my defense build quickly, but Graham had placed a finger over my mouth and shook his head and the anger faded with his touch.

“Let’s tell them, hell I’ll leak it to The Rolling Stones myself,” Graham chuckled, “I’ll tell the band if they make a single joke around you and kill ‘em.”

“You wouldn’t kill anyone,” I spoke with his finger still pressed lightly to my lips and felt my lipgloss stink to his finger but he didn’t flinch.

“Fair, I’ll tell them Billy will kill them,” he nodded confidently at that, “I’m done with this cruel summer of not being able to touch you and kiss you and love you.”

Suddenly I was all over him, my hands pulling his shirt and my lips crashing around his face until our teeth were trashing against one another. His hands were on the back of my neck and his chest was pressed to mine so closer I felt our lungs fuse together.

We're going to tell everyone.

KAREN SIRKO: Oh, we knew. [laughs]

WARREN ROJAS: They really thought we didn’t know! Oh that’s a good joke, I’m so telling Lisa later.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: I shared a wall with Graham. I won’t say much more.

BILLY DUNNE: He’s my brother, of course I knew he loved her, but it shocked me they were actually together.

CAMILA DUNNE: Billy was the only one shocked. We all knew.

DAISY JONES: I had spent one day with the band when I asked how long they had been sleeping together.

GRAHAM DUNNE: No way they knew! We're so good about it!

(Y/N) DUNNE: Okay maybe we could’ve done a little better about hiding it.

[robinismywife]

sooo would it be totally insane if i were to announce that I'm preparing like a 20k angsty warren rojas x fem!reader fic...lol.

[msmoony7]

finallyyyy finished watching daisy jones and the six. the book was sooooo much better, idk why they changed the plot and characters so much it pissed me off😭 imo, if the show was more like the book i think the fandom would’ve been larger (regardless of this if u see this pls write djats fanfic bc i need some graham and eddie fics😭😭)

[una-hopeless-romantic1118]

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐀 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬?—𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐨𝐣𝐚𝐬/𝐑𝐡𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬

a/n: by this part, it’s been a few weeks after Y/N and Warren met on the yacht. a little snippet of how karen and y/n met bc they’re platonic soulmates and they’re both badass

timeline: ep. 3 (band is still in hiatus)

here’s the good stuff y’all signed up for :p

Part 1   

This chapter: Part 2   

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5 (in the works!)

Epilogue

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

warnings (of this chapter): sexual tension, warren being horny, reader being horny, smoking, angst, cursing, drinking. 

summary (of this chapter): weeks has passed and Warren still found himself pinning over a stranger, and Y/N, realizing the cost of fame, found herself bound to be lonely for as long she succeeds under the limelight. Will she take a chance at love? Or is her career too much of a blessing that she can’t risk ruining over anything?

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────• 

Interviewer: So how did you and Y/N meet?

Karen: Uh, *chuckling* it was all thanks to a shitty driver that just...had to drop me off in the middle of nowhere.

I was supposedly, on my way to the boys’ house for the first time. I had no clue where I was, nor did I have people to ask around for help. It was literally in the middle of nowhere. Just sand, and drought. 

But if it weren’t him, I would’ve never gotten a ride from that woman in a purple polka-dotted bikini who had clearly just gone out of the water from a nearby beach.

*her eyes widen playfully at the camera* If it weren’t for that arse driver, I would’ve never met my best mate.

Interviewer: What was your relationship like afterwards?

Karen: *grinning* How’d she describe it?

Interviewer: *slight chuckling* She said “like two schoolgirls who never grew up.”

Karen: *nodding* Sounds about right. *she chuckles*

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

“He’s been drooling about you every damn day, Y/N!” Karen whisper-shouted into the telephone. “This is witchcraft you placed on this man. Never seen him so quiet and...smiley.”

Y/N imagined her friend to be on her bed with the telephone. The conversation was about Warren, who Y/N found out was Karen’s bandmate that, she quotes, “uses his dick as a compass.” Whenever they talked about Warren, with Y/N’s obnoxious pleadings, Karen would take the telephone to her bedroom, where Warren and the boys can’t hear.

Karen flipped on her back. “I think you’re a maniacal genius, love, but isn’t this too far? A crime of some sort?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked with a mouthful of chips. After swallowing, possibly too fast, she coughs out. “My name is Flora, though.”

“Are you alright?” Karen chuckled at her friend, who goes on to have a coughing fit on the other end of the telephone.

She continues anyways. “Y/N, love, ... he’s going to get hurt.”

“What happened to his dick being his compass?” Y/N, teary eyed from the coughs, drags herself out of bed to her kitchen to get a glass of water. She takes a long drink before getting herself back to the phone. “Honestly, I think he’ll just throw a tantrum, get drunk, and his dick will reactivate. There’s more of me he can find and fuck. No biggie.”

“No biggie?” Karen repeated, disbelief sending her to sit up. “He’s been looking everywhere for you! Pestering me about some Flora that worked for Y/N L/N—Also! Took me a while to piece it all together, y’know! You’re a pain in the arse for this!”  

“Calm down, hun.” Y/N giggled. “I thought it was fun.”

“He’ll think otherwise, Y/N!” Karen scolded. “You don’t know the effect you have on this man.”

“Oh, I do.” She reassured. “I still think it’s funny.”

Y/N took her friend’s frustrated groans as a way to explain herself. “Don’t worry, Kiki,” she insisted with a laugh. “I’ll have enough designing to do that I’ll be stuck in my condo for months. He won’t see me anywhere in parties any time soon either. By the end of this season, he’ll forget all about me.” 

There was only silence now, Y/N could only picture her friend on the other end constructing a plan on how she could possibly restrain her for being so reckless.

“I’m gonna go surf till I come out like a pruny grandma,” she informed her. “Wanna come over?”

“I’ll come over after lunch.” Karen yawned. “You’ll be pruny enough then, yes?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Alright, until then, I’ve got some errands to run for my three sons.”

The friends said their good-byes and love-yous before ending their call. 

The beach was right outside her condo, ready for Y/N to surf in and relax, but she didn’t head out immediately after the call.

One thing Y/N knew too well about, was how hard it was to be noticed.

Sure she had the fame, the money, the success, the perfect condo with the beach for her backyard. But in the height of her success, Y/N is lonely, and no one notices. 

Her designs and her fame so easily drowned her in the background. Because it wasn’t her who mattered to them, at least, not who she really was as a person. Her art were an extension of herself, but the fans don’t see that. Not really. Her private life was empty, filled with no one to celebrate her successes with.

So maybe that’s why she depends so much on her fame—it’s all she really has.

Her family is all the way in France. And while they loved each other, Y/N would much rather die than ask them to accompany her, or for her to go back home just for their company.

Because she can’t admit she’s lonely. She can’t admit how miserable she really feels, even to her friends. The guilt of asking them for their company feels like desperation to Y/N.

Maybe she regrets putting off a love life. How long did she expect to be working like this, anyways?

So then she goes to her vinyl player to play something. The Six album, to be precise, and she pays attention to nothing else but the drums in the background, who were also easily drowned out.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

 •─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Interviewer: While Karen visited Y/N that day, what were you doing?

Warren: *chuckling and shaking his head* Karen never visited her that day.

Interviewer: ...What do you mean?...

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Warren paces around the porch of the blue beach house with a folded piece of paper to fidget with.

He unfolds the piece of paper to reread the address written.

It was her address. Flora’s. Long-awaited, that was for sure, and Karen just figured out her address for him as if she knew it all along.

The neighborhood was nice, and from examining the cars and the people coming in and out of the houses, it was a rich neighborhood. It looks very unlikely for someone who just works for a fashion designer to be living in something like this. 

Suddenly, he hears clicking inside, like a locked doorknob trying to be opened. When it stops, he hears a sliding door open and close promptly. 

Then, nearing barefoot footsteps. “Sorry you had to wait!” There was giggling behind this door, and Warren watches the doorknob turn, and ultimately the door opened to a soaked and rosy-cheeked Flora in a white, two piece bikini.

Warren took note of the wide smile she had on when she opened the door, but it seemed to disappear once she saw who was behind it.

“Hey, Flora.” He managed to say, breathlessly. He does everything in his power not to stare too long at her dripping body, not missing the thin, golden chains with charms of stars around her waist, and how that bikini hugged her body the right wa— 

Y/N closed her agape mouth and forced a small smile. “Um, hey!” She greeted awkwardly. 

Silence filled them both. The wind breezed at them and at the palm trees around the neighborhood, accompanied by a gray sky.

Y/N’s body shuddered in response, and Warren couldn’t help but laugh at her body’s reaction.

She laughs along with him. “I’m sorry, do you want to come in? It looks like it’s gonna rain in a bit.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He accepted the invitation, maybe a little too eagerly. 

“I’ll mop the floors in a bit, just watch your step.”

Warren obliged, making his way to the living room where Y/N motioned him to. 

“I have so many questions,” Y/N snorted. “How’d you find me in the first place?”

“A friend of mine...” Warren sat down carefully, examining his surroundings. “Karen.”

She nods, scoffing like she should’ve seen it coming. 

There were enough evidence for Warren to conclude that a fashion designer owned this place. The rich neighborhood, the rolls of cloth against almost all four walls, the two sewing machines, the bits and cuts of cloth scattered on the table in front of him.

Warren looked up to meet Y/N, who was not at all ashamed for hiding her true identity.

“Surprise!…” She drawled out, carefully because she’s aware of the embarrassment she caused him, but also with no shame that she’s led him on like this.

He shook his head with a small smile, taking into his hand the nearest piece of cloth. “I assumed you were her when you left.” He said, his voice low. “I asked around.”

“Should’ve done that in the first place,” she giggled with her back turned to him as she looks for beer in her fridge. “Now you’re stuck in this mess.”

Warren shrugged, taking the beer from her hands. “You make it sound like it’s the worst thing on the planet.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her glistening legs.

Y/N laughed out. “Drink your beer, Warren. I’ll go shower and we can have a proper conversation like two civilized civilians.”

“Who said we have to be civil?” He insisted further, leaning back on the comfortable couch. “Who said we have to talk at all, I mea—“

“Drink the beer, Warren!” She yelled from down the hallway.

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Warren: She’s got that charm, y’know? I mean, as embarrassing as it was, I was hooked. I didn’t even mind she lied to me at all. Piecing it together and realizing the good friend Karen gushes on so much about, the fashion designer taking over the world with her talents, and Flora, were the Y/N L/N, you couldn’t blame me.

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

“How upsetting would it be if I told you the storm is going to last the whole night?” She slumped down beside him on the sofa.

Warren, with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, could only praise God silently for this disastrous weather.

“What makes you think it’s going to last the whole night?”

Y/N squinted her eyes at him sarcastically as the sound of the thunder roared loudly, even inside.

“Noted,” Warren rolled his eyes at her. She was clearly drunk, but Warren can’t help but tease her just for the sassy remarks.

“So, anyways, I was thinking I might get a dog or two.” Y/N brushed the ends of her hair in thought, laying the side of her head on his shoulder. “I’ve wanted dogs for so long, I’m taking you coming here as a sign.”

“I’m flattered.” Warren laughs out.

“You’re very welcome.” She sniffed. 

“Can I ask why?” He chuckled, stubbing out the cigarette to talk to her face to face without blowing smoke at her face. “I’m kind of scared to ask, not gonna lie.”

What he didn’t expect was for her to place her hand atop his head, patting down his hair. “You’re hair.” She smiled sleepily. “I’ve noticed it the first time we met.”

Warren could only laugh at her drooping eyelids. “You tired?”

“No, I’m not tired,” she crossed her arms, turning her body away from him. “I’m wide awake.”

“Baby, you’ve been falling asleep in the middle of your sentences for a while now.” He cooed. “C’mon, I’ll carry you to bed like a man servant.”

“I am not tired,” she insisted.

He tucks a rebellious strands of hair behind her ear. “If you fall asleep here, I’m sleeping on your bed.”

“Don’t you dare,” she drawled out. “My bed is reserved for me only. The only thing you can do it...the only thing you can do to it,” she giggled, “is fluff my pillows. Like a man servant.”

He laughs, with her strands of hair still in his hands. He twirls it around his own fingers gently, careful not to cause her pain. He’s closer than before now, and without her moving her head so much he noticed the constellation of freckles across her cheeks.

When Y/N starts stirring into her first few minutes of sleep, Warren attempts to move his hands beneath her to carry her, only for her to open her eyes again.

“Damn it, Y/N.” He scolded her.

She smiled blissfully, closing her eyes again. “I want you to fuck me.”

Warren stills. For the first time, his first instinct was to move away rather than accept.

He was too scared to move. Did he give her the wrong impression? Not that he didn’t want to fuck her at all, but it’s not right to do so when she’s drunk.

Y/N opens her eyes to find him flushed. “Isn’t that what you wanted in the first place?” She snorted.

“You’re drunk, Y/N.”

She threw her hands up in surrender. “I give you full consent.” 

“It doesn’t matter, you’re not thinking straight.” He goes to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“So...you’re saying you don’t want to fuck me?”

How could someone not? Warren thought miserably to himself. Even in her long, white cardigan that could pass off as a grandmother’s cardigan and black silk sleep dress that revealed most of her soft skin, Warren was ready to take all of her in.

When she’s sober, he convinced himself. If she even feels the same when she is.

Warren’s next move was to wait until she falls asleep and to deny, deny, deny, but Y/N grabbed him by his chin to face her. 

Despite her droopy eyelids, Y/N forced herself to look up at him. His breaths fanning her face were like rescue breaths to her.

She couldn’t help but nudge his beautiful nose against hers, while Warren continued to have an internal battle.

Y/N understood her own rules well, and didn’t fail to acknowledge his respect for her current state.

So all she did was bring him closer by the chin and kissed him deeply. She feels Warren respond obligingly, though, still cautious.

It was a kiss that Y/N could need for the rest of her life, the way his lips reached into hers desperately like how she always wished a man would reach for her. The way his hand cupped the back of her head like how she always wanted to be supported and cared for.

The sudden adrenaline of hope that Warren felt was too much to handle. He never felt the so conflicted over something he’s wanted, but he knew he couldn’t have.

He didn’t want himself holding her back. She has too much potential and talent, he would just make a fool out of himself.

Y/N ended the intimate kiss with a peck on his nose. “For now,” she smiled against his jawline, before she could feel herself tire completely on his shoulder.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

few more parts to come!!

taglist (aka beautiful people): @pinkdaiisies​ @mlwriting5 @teletubbysteroids​ @linatells @stanzie @arsonkween @rexorangecouny​ @lisbeth122605​ @cultsanrio @thatoneawesomechicka​ @magicalmiserybore​

[reasonsmandy]

Took you long enough

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — could you write a warren rojas x reader where it’s readers first time seeing warren not high. like she kinda realised that he’s this beautiful, adorable person that isn’t just a comedic relief side character. thanks! xx

✧.* summary — It wasn't often that you saw Warren sober, you could count the times on one hand. And on New Year's Eve when he showed himself vulnerable to you, something changed.

✧.* warnings — none.

✧.* word count — 2.5k

✧.* 🥁 — Warren's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — Such a joy writing this, thank you so much for the ask. Hope you like it, good reading.

Interviewer: Do you remember when you fell in love with him?

Y/n L/n: *smiles* Actually yeah…

You packed your jacket for the second time before leaving the house, wondering if you had everything in hand to enjoy your New Year's Eve at Camila and Billy's house. A few weeks ago you were all smoking on the porch of the old place where you all lived and had the idea to celebrate Billy's sobriety.

You had been the band's closest friend since they moved into the house next to yours. You were so excited by the idea of having artists like you so close that it didn't take long to be in their presence. When you met you still had no more than a supporting role in some simple jobs out there, so you spent your afternoons memorizing scripts as they rehearsed their songs.

You saved Christmas to spend with your family, but you'd be lying if you didn't say you were thinking about meeting up with your friends throughout the event.You go to knock on the door of Camila's house, strangely nervous, even though you knew that everyone there loved you very much, you still felt afraid that you were being an interruption in the get-together of friends for years. Before you can knock the drummer's voice makes you jump in fright.

“Hey bella, took you long enough.” His voice was in a different tone, you turn to look at him and see him completely dressed in black.

You take a moment to let your heart beats regulate, also taking advantage of the same to observe the man next to you. The drummer's chest was covered by a black transparent mesh shirt, his pants were also black with some metallic stones adorning them. Still on his torso was a leather jacket and his neck contained a necklace with tiny drumsticks, his curls were wet so you deduced that he had just got out of the shower.

“Fuck Rojas! You scared the hell out of me!” You say putting your hands automatically to his chest, he can't help but laugh.

Observing his face now more calmly you see him with a softer expression, almost one that you don't usually see every time you are next to him. He notices you paying more attention to his features.

“What?” He asks, his arms crossed in curiosity.

“You look different, I don't know.” Your smile widens, Rojas' presence always did that to you.

“Oh, it must be because we're all clean tonight. You know, to celebrate Billy’s thing.” He says exactly, really glad that they were doing this for their friend.

Your face drops, “Oh no, Cami didn't tell me anything… I brought, you know, nevermind. I'll just keep them in the car.”

Warren walks with you to your car, and even though you tried to hide his presence it still affected you. A few weeks ago you had spent the entire night with him on the porch of your house, after inviting everyone to dinner there, he had been the only one to stay after one in the morning.

And after this interaction there was a tension that could be palpable between you, but as the drummer was always dancing in jokes and humor in any subject you never thought it was something to discuss again. When you get to your car he rests his hand on the hood, watching your every movement, you feel nervous but he loves watching you closely.

“Just out of curiosity, what did you bring?” He speaks with a smirk, you hit him on the shoulder, rolling your eyes while laughing.

“No no no, let's keep the promise for Billy.” You close the door of your car and when you are about to go towards the door once again he grabs your hand, making you turn around.

“Are you sure? There's still time." He jokes, you grab his hand and pull him towards the door “Alright Alright, you make the calls cariño.”

Interviewer: Wait wait, but what happened the night on your balcony?

Y/n L/n: *blushes* First of all I'd like to make it clear that I was really high…

The sky was getting completely dark when you were smoking your fourth cigarette, your friends had stopped there for dinner and they had said goodbye not long ago. You exhale the smoke forward knowing you were alone, feeling the early morning breeze hit your body like a hug. As you feel the wave hit your brain, your muscles relax, and you let yourself lean on the counter while relaxedly observing the lonely street.

Warren had left with the others, but as he walked to his house he stopped at the door, Karen entered next to Graham but he didn't notice. Eddie notices when Rojas thinks twice about entering, so he watches what the drummer is going to do or what's stopping him.

“You good there?” He asks yawning, the dark surroundings making it easier for his body to seek rest.

Warren could see your body on the balcony of your house, the dim light in your room illuminated you from behind and the view he had of your figure puffing cigarette smoke was majestic. There had been a time when the drummer's dark eyes observed your person with a different affection, where just your presence caused sensations that he enjoyed discovering.

He nods to Eddie's question, turning to him. “Are you guys okay without me?”

“You wanna go back to y/n's?” Eddie asks with a smirk, weariness visible in his eyes.

He opened his mouth to respond, but he only had one answer. He nods, and Eddie does the same with pride, turning to enter the house.

You can see the curly head heading back towards your home, and you just turn your head to the side trying to understand what could have happened. You hear four knocks on the door, a pause for two more knocks and finally a light knock, you smile a little.

“It's open Warren!” You scream so he hears, and soon afterwards you hear his steps up the stairs.

You hear the silence again and turn to find the drummer watching you in the doorway, you see his chest only with the classic vest, this time the one with a donkey on the back. You approach him, resting both hands on his shoulders.

Y/n L/n: Very high…

“You're back.” You smile and he does the same, you admire his face and he feels naked under your gaze.

“You asked me to bella.” He answers, Wrapping you in his arms as he looks deep into your eyes. “Come, let's sit down.”

He takes you to the padded bench that was on your balcony, as soon as you do so, he goes towards your room.

“No Warren, please don't leave.” You complain, as you feel the drugs intensifying.

“Calm down, I'm not going anywhere.” He returns from your room with a blanket that was on your bed, wrapping it around his back and then wrapping it around him. “Estoy aquí niña, now tell me, what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“You keep appearing in my dreams Rojas.” You talk slurred, you hear him giggling and you break away to look at him.

“And what do I do, uh?” He teases you, kissing the top of your head.

“Usually we are like this, which is confusing, you know? ” He listens to you calmly, and you feel that the drugs leave your filter behind. “Because I never know if you're serious when it comes to anything. But we are like this, all my doubts and insecurities are gone and I just feel you protecting me from everything.”

“You really think I'm able to do that?” Warren feels his heart speed up, his arms pulling you closer with urgency.

“Yes, I honestly think so.” You mumble against his chest, snuggling closer. “It's just, ugh…”

“And what's wrong with it, hermosa?”

“That they are just dreams.” You speak in a whisper. Letting yourself finally fall asleep.

Y/n L/n: I mean, later he told me all that happened that night, because I remembered just flashes of it.

Warren Rojas: *smiles shyly*

Eddie Roundtree: Hear me out, everyone and their mothers knew that Warren and Y/n had feelings for each other, since day one they just connected. But on New Year's Eve, it was different.

Karen Sirko: Y/n was radiant, she looked at Warren in a way I've only seen... Nevermind *says shyly*

The rest of the band was in the living room while you and Rojas were cooking, or better, he was watching you cook. He watches you leaning on a counter while smiling at your every move, he loved watching you and you knew that and loved it.

“I know you are watching me Rojas.” You say while mixing the salad.

He comes closer, laying his body close to you. “I wasn’t trying to hide it.” He shrugs, and you roll your eyes playfully.

There was something about Warren's presence that you had never noticed before, he seemed to actually be there, by your side and one hundred percent present. You liked that.

“What was the first song you learned to play on the drums?” You ask without precepts, catching him by surprise with your sudden interest.

“I think it was something like...” He opens the cupboard under the sink, taking out two pans and pots, you immediately let out a laugh. He starts drumming a random beat that sounds more like noise. Looking at you as if he felt complete in your joyful reactions. “Thoughts?”

You burst into laughter, he smiles with his eyes shining. “So many.” You say when you finish laughing, wiping the corners of your eyes that had a little water in them.

“I always played, Mi Abuelo had a drum kit and that's where I started to learn. Ever since I was a kid, I would go there and pretend I knew what I was doing. Until I understood how the basics worked, and from then on, well... It became my fixation, it was all I wanted to do twenty-four hours a day.”

You smile genuinely in awe. “You were definitely born for this. Seriously, you’re the best drummer I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh stop, you don't mean that.” Warren Rojas was shy, you were in shock.

You let go of what you were doing, since you had promised that he would be the one to put everything in a container when ready. Wiping your hands on the nearest towel and turning to him with a serious look.

“I do, you're amazing.” Your gaze penetrating his eyes was the reason his legs were shaking.

“Gracias…” He says scratching the back of his head. "Means a lot.”

You see more than sincerity in his eyes, you see dedication, it was a type of intimacy that he had never had with anyone and that's when you felt that he allowed you to read him. Warren feels his heart beating like an animal desperate to free itself from its cage, he thought it was the absence of drugs in his system but it was actually the release of another hormone, he was falling in love.

He fakes a cough to bring back the air of simplicity, failing in one of his goals. “What about you cariño? Since when did you know what you wanted to do?”

You let out a sigh, raising your hand and calling him closer with your index and upper finger, he approaches you. You take your hands to the collar of his jacket, asking permission to remove it, he just agrees and so you do.

You position yourself behind him, removing your apron to tie it around his waist, Rojas closes his eyes feeling your touch in fear that it would end soon, and opens them when he feels you away.

You look at him once again, with curiosity, deciphering what was hovering between you. “I'm an artistic person, as long as I'm connected to art I feel good. When I turned fifteen I was in a play in my hometown, and found momentary but welcoming homes on each stage where I brought a character to life. That was the moment I knew.”

As you say it, you guide him around the kitchen, indicating what he should do. And during all those seconds, all Warren wanted was to put it all down and memorize your every move.

He focuses on the ingredients for the first time, which makes you surprised, but it was the only way he had the courage to say what he wanted. He feels his heart racing once again, is this what being sober is?

“Eres arte, hermosa.” He whispers, and you frown trying to understand. He tries once more. “You are art, you're just… perfect.”

Your mind and body stops for a moment, you widen your eyes. He takes a few steps back, taking off the apron and putting his jacket back on. You immediately rush over to him, cupping his face in your hands.

“Do you mean that?” You ask, afraid of the answer. “Please, tell me you do.” You whisper, like your body was begging for you to get closer to him already.

“I do.” He replies, taking his hands to your waist. “You are art, and I would spend days analyzing every detail of you.”

As your eyes locked, an overwhelming sense of tenderness washed over both of you. The kitchen's aromas faded into the background, and it was as though the entire universe had conspired to bring you to this moment.

Without haste, you pressed your lips to his in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was a meeting of souls that had been separated for far too long, a kiss that held the weight of a lifetime of unspoken love. Warren pulls you closer, feeling every curve of your body as he promises to “analyze every detail of you”.

The world seemed to hold its breath as your lips danced together, a delicate and cherished connection. Each brush of your lips conveyed the depth of your affection, a love that had patiently waited for its time to bloom. You play with the curly strands of his hair, showing urgency at this moment, for him, for both of you.

Time stood still as you shared that kiss, a moment suspended in eternity. It was a kiss that whispered of a profound bond, of two soulmates reunited at last, afraid to let go, lest this precious moment vanish like a dream.

When you finally parted, there was a softness in your gaze, and a huge smile on his face, you caressed his cheeks feeling his unshaven beard almost meeting his mustache, he plays with your shirt as if trying to keep his hands to himself.

“Thank God!” Eddie's voice makes you both jump in fright. “Took you long enough!”

Eddie Roundtree: We were starving!! They wouldn't come back. *Shrugs*

...

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

Check out my Warren's series

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[its-vannah]

Jealousy, Jealousy | Warren Rojas x Reader

A/N: Warren is so fun to write for—I can't lol

Request: hey!!! can you write a warren x reader one-shot where they are dating and the reader is a movie actress and has a very intimate scene with her costar and warren gets jealous?

Warnings: Profanity, intimate scene with costar, Warren being Warren

Taglist: @celestialstar111

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

Warren stomped around his houseboat, fuming, "He was basically ripping your clothes off, Y/N!"

"Warren, I'm an actress," You grumbled, following him around every corner as he rambled on and on about having to watch you get intimate with another guy, "It's part of my job."

"You could've said no!" He exclaimed, turning on his heels, his hands flying in the air, "You think I want to watch my girlfriend screw—screw some random guy while I watch?"

Warren Rojas, on the surface, was a carefree, laid-back guy who happened to play in a world famous band and own a houseboat. But deep down, he was insecure in his relationships. Jealousy came easily to him, something you hadn't realized when the two of you started seeing each other.

But that was one minor setback with the two of you. It was better than your ex, who made it his personal goal to try and turn you from an actress who loved what she did to a little housewife who did as she was told.

"I told you—I warned you—that we were doing that scene today," You hissed, "Of all the days you could've come, you had to choose that one?"

He shrugged, "I wanted to make sure he didn't pull a move on you."

"We had a whole film crew watching us—what move would we have pulled?" You asked.

"I don't—I don't know... He seems flexible from what I saw," Warren stuttered, his hands on his hips, "Either way, I don't know that I like the idea of my girlfriend sleeping with other guys."

You rolled your eyes, "I'm not sleeping with other guys, Warren! You're the only guy I'm sleeping with."

The tension in his shoulders loosened a bit. You could see the way they dropped slightly, not as rigid as they had been when the arguement started.

He scratched the back of his neck, "You're the only girl I'm sleeping with."

"That's because we're dating, baby," You said, unable to hide the smile on your face.

Warren tapped his foot against the deck, "So, you didn't...feel anything?"

Crossing your arms, you looked him up and down, "Feel...? Like his thing pressing into my thigh or an attachment?"

"Both?" His voice raised at the end, unsure if what he was saying would upset you.

"Is that a question or an answer, Warren?"

He sighed, running a hand through his curls, "A question."

You shook your head, "No, I didn't feel anything. You know you're the only guy for me. It's you or nothing."

His eyes lit up, "Wait—really?"

"Warren, you've been grilling me about having fake sex with my costar for the past twenty minutes and the second I tell you that you're the only one—you stop?"

His cheeks reddened and he bowed his head, his hands clasping behind his back as he rocked back and forth on his heels, "Maybe..."

You took a step towards him, your hands cupping his face and pulling him to you. Your lips met, moving against one another's.

When you finally pulled away, Warren had a dreamy expression plastered over his face.

"I'm sorry," He apologized, "I should've... I should've trusted you more. I was being an asshole. I just—I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me," You said, taking his hands in yours, "I love you, Warren. And before you ask—yes, I mean it."

Warren pressed a kiss to your forehead, "I love you, too, honeybun."

You usually cringed at his nickname for you, as it always struck you as being sickeningly sweet. But this time, it felt different. It rolled off his tongue.

He leaned forward, bringing his mouth to your ear, whispering, "Do you want to take this to my room?"

"You want to screw me on your houseboat?"

Warren playfully gasped, taking a step back, his brows raised, "Me? Screw you? No, I want to make love to you."

"Don't get all sappy on me, Rojas," You said, heading in the direction of his room.

"Wait, so is that a yes?" He called out, but you didn't respond, "Y/N?"

Warren chased after you, a smile painted on his face. He'd chase after you for the rest of his life to remind you how much he loved you, even if you already knew.

[neptunes-curse]

The Eddie Roundtree fic is out now!! Click here to read :) I hope y’all love it as much as me!

[cryptfile]

ᝰ FANDOMS I’M CURRENTLY WRITTING FOR:

those marked in colored letters are the ones i’m currently simping on. Feel free to send promps, requests of characters or anything honestly. Always nice to recieve a message! / This list will be updated regularly so you guys can know what i’m into, also, if I forgot someone.

THE BOYS

Billy Butcher, Soldier Boy, Victoria Neuman, Starlight/Annie January, The Deep, A-Train, Frenchie, Sister Sage, Queen Maeve, Firecracker, Homelander, Hughie Campbell, Kimiko.

GEN V

Cate Dunlap, Jordan Li, Sam and Luke Riordan, Marie Moreau, Emma Myers.

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Alicent Hightower, Jacaerys Velaryon, Aemond Targaryen, Aegon Targaryen, Harwin Strong, Criston Cole.

MARVEL

Loki Laufeyson, Sylvie Laufeydottir, Moonknight x3, Hawkeye/Comic!Clint Barton [recasted as Oliver Jackson-Cohen], Yelena Belova, Kate Bishop, Scarlet Witch/Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Matt Murdock/Daredevil, Deadpool, Peter Parker/Spider-Man’s in general, X-Men’s in general, Thor Odinson, Carol Danvers, Tony Stark, Doctor Strange, Bucky Barnes, Fantastic Four, Adam Warlock, Ant Man, Druig, Natasha Romanoff, and more since there are too many characters, feel free to ask!

HARRY POTTER

Remus Lupin [marauders era, post I war, nothing weird], Sirius and Regulus Black [marauders!era], James Potter [usually recasted as Dev Patel], Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott.

BRIDGERTON

Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Francesca Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Simon Basset, King George.

THE BEAR

Carmy Berzatto, Sydney Adamu, Richie Jerimovich, Luca.

TWILIGHT

Carlisle Cullen, Charlie Swan, Bella Swan, Edward Cullen, Alice Cullen, Rosalie Hale, Emmett Cullen, Jasper Hale, Leah Clearwater, Alec and Jane Vulturi, Benjamin.

YELLOWJACKETS

Natalie Scatorccio, Jackie Taylor, Shauna Sadecki, Van Palmer, Lottie Matthews, Taissa Turner, Misty Quigley.

GRISHAVERSE

Nikolai Lantsov, Kaz Brekker, Alina Starkov, Matthias Helvar, Aleksander Morozova / The Darkling, Nina Zenik, Inej Ghafa, Malyen Oretsev, Zoya Nazyalenski.

DAISY JONES AND THE SIX

Daisy Jones, Karen Sirko, Billy Dunne, Warren Rhodes, Eddie Roundtree.

THE HUNGER GAMES

Peeta Mellark, Finnick Odair, Young!Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss Everdeen, Johanna Mason.

STAR WARS

Anakin Skywalker, Qimir / The Stranger, Kylo Ren [yes, I have a type], Shin Hati, Han Solo.

MISC

Rafe Cameron [OBX], James Beaufort [Maxton Hall], Drew Starkey, Dean and Sam Winchester [Supernatural], Aaron Taylor Johnson in most of his roles aka Kick-Ass or Bullet Train, Robin Buckley [Stranger Things], Steve Harrington [Stranger Things], Rick Flag [DC], Harley Queen [DC], Battinson [DC], Art Donaldson, Mike Faist, Nicholas Chavez.

[kimpossibly]

THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART ONE: drummers' curse

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of minor injuries (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies in advance for making Y/n the drummer and putting Warren on rhythmic guitar. I just loooooooove female drummers. Also can you tell that I love Karen and Camila? Because I love them with alllllll my heart and soul. Another sorry in advance because this one may break your heart a little ― it sure broke mine. NOTES ON THE WORK: I used the timeline from the book, mostly because I couldn't keep track of it in the show haha. I read the book twice before watching what episodes of the show were out, so the lines may blur between the two. For your convenience (and mine, tbh), I'll put the year all the characters were born underneath this note so you can reference it when you need to. I just couldn't keep track honestly. I think in the show they start the band when Graham is fourteen, but in the book he's around 18 when they add Warren on, so it's kind of confusing?? I decided to stick with the book because it was a more physical timeline. Anyways, enough talking, here's your guide! ― YEARS BORN (in order of age) Billy Dunne -> 1947 Camila Dunne -> 1949 Graham Dunne -> 1949 Warren Rhodes -> 1949 Eddie Roundtree -> 1949 Daisy Jones -> 1951 Y/n L/n -> 1951

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a terminal illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

It's no secret that the renowned 1970s band Daisy Jones & The Six went through its fair share of ups and downs. Until their inexplicable split on July 12, 1979, they were undeniably one of the biggest bands in the world. While a more detailed account of the band's history will be recounted in a more thorough transcript, this advanced edition will focus specifically on two of the band members: Eddie Roundtree and Y/n L/n. More specifically, it will focus on their individual and combined roles they played in the band's eventual downfall.

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1965 - 1972)

GRAHAM: Y/n grew up next door to us. She was a little younger, two years or so, so we never really gave her a second look. Until the day she wandered into our garage during band practice out of nowhere. She practically ripped the drum sticks out of Chuck's hand and just started...wailing on 'em. I mean, she could make your head spin. Here was this thirteen, fourteen year old girl next door, this kid, and she was the best fuckin' drummer we'd seen. I mean, in the neighborhood. She wasn't Mitch Mitchell, but she was the closest thing we had. And she was too good to be shoved in the back with a tambourine. But we couldn't just take Chuck's spot away and hand it over to the new girl.

CHUCK: I knew right then and there that they wanted to give my spot to the new girl. There was no doubt in my mind. And, you know what? I got it. This chick was good. Way too good. Did I feel threatened by her? Hell yeah, I did. And at the time I probably wanted to tell her to screw off, but now...now I get it.

EDDIE: She was good. Amazing, actually. Graham and I looked at each other and knew that she was something we'd be stupid to pass up on.

BILLY: When Chuck told us he wanted out, we were pissed, of course. We were heading off to open for Winters that week. It felt like things were going to look up, just like I always knew they would, and he was ditching. I know now that that wasn't really what it was ― he'd gotten into college, fan-fucking-tastic. It was a good opportunity for him, a sure thing. But right then it felt like a betrayal.

WARREN: So he ditched, and Billy just turned right to Eddie and said, "Go tell Y/n she's in." And he was just...terrified.

EDDIE: I said, "why me?" You know? It wasn't my band, it was Billy's. And here he was, ordering me to tell some new girl she was in. I was fifteen and could barely ask a waitress for ketchup. At the time, that was probably the last thing I wanted to do.

GRAHAM: He asked why it had to be him, and I told him the truth: he was the least intimidating. Billy, you know him. He had a tendency to get too focused on the task at hand and could get a little...harsh. And Warren? He had one of the biggest personalities you could find. He'd scare her off before we had a chance to offer her the spot...[Pauses] I probably could've done it, in all honesty. I just didn't want to screw it up. Eddie was better with words than I was, and we needed her in our band. Badly.

EDDIE: And I remember thinking, "Here goes fucking nothing."

The doorbell ringing was what got her attention. No one ever used the doorbell. It was always a knock ― that, or someone just walked in. The L/n's front door was hardly ever locked back then. Y/n's mom was a nurse, formerly a school nurse. She didn't want to risk the chance that some kid took a spill and had to limp home on an injured leg. So all the neighborhood knew, if you got hurt playing outside, you could march on over to Miss L/n's place to get yourself fixed up.

Y/n had her own share of walk-ins, too. By the time she was ten, she had seen her mom help out enough kids that she was practically a nurse herself. She could disinfect and bandage and stitch up any old case that walked through her front door. And if someone who was too busted up for first aid? She knew where the keys to the family Winnebago was and how to drive herself and them to the local hospital. She was only fourteen and didn't have a license, but it didn't matter. She was a safer driver than most everyone else on the road.

So when someone rang the doorbell, she assumed that it was someone too injured to knock. She grabbed the car keys and made sure her suture kit was within reach.

When she opened the door, she didn't see the blood and broken bones she was expecting. Instead, Eddie Roundtree stood on her front porch, hands shoved anxiously in his pockets. He looked all right, but that didn't stop her from asking: "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Um. No," Eddie said quickly, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"Okay," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Y/n turned and walked further into the house, prompting him to close the door and follow her. She led him to the kitchen. "Lemonade? I made it this morning," she offered, already opening the fridge.

EDDIE: That jug of lemonade was bigger than she was. [Laughs] I could barely watch her get it down. I was afraid she'd drop it on her foot. But she just took her time getting it from the fridge to the table. I found out later that her mom bought a pound of lemons a week because Y/n wanted something to offer every kid that came through their front door. [Pauses]. She was just like that.

He gave a nod. Y/n stood on her toes to grab two glasses from the cabinet. She poured one glass, hands shaking from the weight of the jug, and Eddie realized that this awkward silence was probably the best time to transition into his real reason for visiting.

"Chuck left the band."

"Oh," she said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

She paused, looking confused. And Eddie, who's will to live was slowly draining from this conversation alone, raced to finish what he had (awkwardly) started.

"I just mean that...you're in. The band. If you want to be our drummer, you're in."

Y/n paused mid-pour, setting the pitcher down on the counter carefully. She turned around until her back pressed into the kitchen counter, arms crossed over her chest. "And you thought I'd jump at the chance to join?"

"No. No," Eddie said quickly. "We just wanted to offer you the spot if you still wanted it."

"Did I say that I wanted it?"

"No, but―"

"Okay, just making sure," she handed him a glass and hopped up onto the counter, crossing her legs underneath her. "So you need a drummer?"

"Yes. Badly."

She took a sip from her glass and paused, as if weighing her options in her mind. She swallowed. "Are there any other girls in the band yet?"

EDDIE: Yet. Like she knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.

"No, not yet." he replied.

"Then be honest with me: are you guys sleazeballs?"

EDDIE: Sleazeballs. She didn't sugarcoat things. She wanted to know if we were creeps or if we'd let her play drums in peace. I get that, one hundred percent. but back then, it felt like she was trying to accuse us of something.

"No," he said quickly, "Well...Warren can be a little much, but he means well."

She took another slow sip, once again weighing her options in her mind. "When's your next gig?"

"We play pretty much every night, wherever we can find. It might take us a bit to teach you the songs, but―"

"I can learn them," she said confidently. "How soon do you need someone?"

"Soon as possible."

EDDIE: By then, I was terrified she'd say no. All these questions and never once did she seem really interested in joining. I was already trying to figure out which of us would be the least shit at the drums.

"Okay. I'm in."

EDDIE: And that was it. She said yes. I didn't appreciate how much she'd saved our asses right then, but I was relieved. That was for sure.

GRAHAM: Eddie came back, told us she said yes. She couldn't join practice until her mom got home ― she didn't want the house to be empty if some injured kid wandered by ― so we had about an hour and a half to teach her every song.

BILLY: She picked 'em up like [snaps] that. Never doubted it for a single second, either. Once she knew it, she knew it.

EDDIE: She showed up to the first gig in overalls and sneakers. She let Camila put a little makeup on her, too, but we could all tell she hated it.

CAMILA: She was sweet. And, surprisingly, a little shy. I could tell she was a little scared of the boys. That's why she was a little cold to them at first. But she was just the coolest kid. I mean, fourteen years old and joining a rock band? She was a little rockstar, right off the bat. She asked me to put some makeup on her before her first gig with the band. When I gave her a mirror after and asked her what she thought, she said, "I like it, but it makes me feel like a doll. Not a drummer." She liked the glitter the most, though. It became her trademark. She put it on her cheeks, in her hair, everywhere that would catch the light. She'd come off stage and you'd see a little pile of sparkles behind the drum set.

EDDIE: Right off the bat, first gig. It was enough to freak anyone out. She joined the band six hours ago, learned the songs three hours ago, and now she was playing in a club to a couple dozen people. It seems so small now, but back then? It was like starting at Wembley.

Y/n shook out her hands for the eighth time. It wasn't about loosening up for the gig anymore, she just needed something to do that didn't involve throwing a punch or screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked up at Billy, standing at the front of the group, cool and calm as ever, and she had the distinct urge to kick him in the shin. Why did he get to be so calm when she was right behind him, on the verge of throwing up?

She turned to anxiously twisting a single drum stick between her fingers, around and around, faster and faster. Eventually it became so mindless that she barely noticed as the stick slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She bent to retrieve it quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

But, of course, someone did.

"Hey," Eddie said, looking back at her.

"Warren knocked it out of my hands." she said quickly.

Eddie glanced over at Warren, who was a solid two feet ahead of her, physically unable to have knocked a drum stick out of her hands. Y/n knew from that glance that he could see right through her lie. Now she really wasn't in the mood to talk.

EDDIE: She was terrified. And she was lying her ass off about it. I didn't want to run the risk that she choked up in the middle of the show and screwed up our set. So I figured I'd just, talk. And if she wanted me to screw off, she'd tell me. She had a way of saying exactly what she wanted.

"You've heard of the Drummer's Curse, right?" he asked.

She frowned in a way that told him no, she did not.

"First, there's the obvious stuff: drummers have to lug around the most shit out of anyone in the band. Drums sets are heavy and expensive, so there's that. But the worst part is that they're easy to overlook, you know? They're at the back of the stage behind all this shit, everyone stands in front of 'em. Drummers can fade into the background real easy. The best drummers can outshine anyone else onstage. You'll do that one day, but if you're freaked out now, just let yourself fade a little. You'll play better than anyone up there and the crowd'll know it, but you can let them focus on someone else if you want. You get what I'm saying?"

EDDIE: For a second, I thought she was going to punch me.

But then she nodded, wiped off some of the pink lipstick Camila had put on her with the back of her hand, and pushed her bangs to the side. "Drummers' Curse, huh?"

"Some people believe in it, some don't."

"And you?" she asked, turning to him. "Do you believe in that kind of stuff?"

Eddie paused. Shrugged. "Sure. Seems true enough to me."

Y/n nodded. "I don't. It sounds like bullshit to me."

Eddie frowned. She looked up at him. "I'm not going to let myself fade because I'm scared. I signed up for this, you know. The least I can do is own my place. If I outshine you, it's just because I'm that good," she said matter-of-factly. "I will need help carrying the stuff, though."

EDDIE: I didn't know what to say. I mean, [laughs] what the hell do you say to that?

He felt like he'd had the rug pulled out from under him. And then, he surprised himself: he laughed.

And Y/n surprised herself then, too ― she smiled.

EDDIE: That was just...[Shakes head. Smiles.] I don't know.

"I think we can manage that." he said with a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen...The Dunne Brothers!"

WARREN: If I were still the guy I was back then, I would completely undersell her to you right now. I'd tell you she was an average drummer who was more in it for the thrill than the craft. But that wasn't it at all. She got up there and she just...shined.

GRAHAM: We all knew she'd be scared before the first gig. In fact, she looked about ready to throw up when they announced us on stage. But the second she hit those lights, it was like she was a different person. She waved and smiled like she'd done it a hundred times. The only other person I'd seen do that ― I mean really become another person on stage ― is Billy.

BILLY: That first show with Y/n was a little bit of a trainwreck. We were at least a half beat behind the entire show. And I'm not saying I blame her, but she was new and shiny. We got through it just fine, but I think we all felt it wasn't our best show.

WARREN: That show was bitchin'.

GRAHAM: It was a great show.

WARREN: Back in those days, we'd get off stage and start cheering for ourselves like we'd just won the goddamn lottery. Somewhere along the way, that stopped. We'd just pat each other on the back, say 'good job,' and that was that. But when Y/n got backstage? She was screaming and yelling like it was the best night of her life. And all of us joined in without a second thought ― well, maybe all of us except Billy. He was kind of a hard ass, even then. None of us had ever heard this girl talk louder than a glorified whisper, and then she came out of nowhere with this full-body scream. And who did she run to? Well, I think you can guess.

CAMILA: She just about jumped into Eddie's arms.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. For one, the effect is had on different people can be vastly different depending on who it was. Some people mellowed out, some people amped up. Y/n fell into the second category.

The second she got off the stage, a giddy laugh ripped from her chest, turning more into a scream of triumph halfway through. She was buzzing. Literally. Her hands felt numb ― or, more accurately, they felt like they felt more. Everything she touched was sharp and blinding.

The next person to join in on the screaming and jumping around was Warren. Then Graham. Then Eddie. And then, reluctantly, Billy. Eddie was the last to come off stage, slinging his guitar off his shoulders, and Y/n, without thinking much about it, ran straight to him, leaping directly into his unsuspecting arms.

The others were too hyped up on their own adrenaline rushes to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She wrapped her legs around his waist hanging onto him like a koala. And Eddie, who couldn't deny adrenaline, held onto her back without a second thought.

After a moment, she leaned back, arms still wrapped around his neck, faces inches apart. "Drummers' curse, huh?"

EDDIE: She didn't fade. She couldn't, not even if she tried.

Eddie just smiled and shook his head. "Sounds like bullshit to me."