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[pinkdaiisies]

Seriously so obsessed with this man rn

Stiff Competition | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: After visiting your bakery one time, Bob has a crush on you. The only problem is, so do all of the other guys.

Warnings: Fluff and some swears

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader

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Bob quietly followed his friends inside the trendy, new bakery that opened near base. He had become so accustomed to the bickering between Hangman and Rooster, he found it almost soothing, even early on a Monday morning.

"No way," Bradley said, shaking his head at Jake. "You're wrong, and now you're just being stubborn."

Jake sighed calmly. "I'm just saying, there's no way anyone, Fred included, would pick Velma over Daphne. It's unrealistic."

Bradley grunted in response. "Whatever. Smart girls are always hot."

Bob just cradled his forehead in his hand and let the rich smell of fresh coffee and baked goods wash over his senses. All three men in their khaki uniforms shuffled forward as the line moved.

"Holy shit," Bradley and Jake muttered softly and in perfect unison. 

"Do you see what I see?" Bradley asked, staring entranced at the sight before him.

"Oh hell yes, I do," Jake confirmed with a nod. 

Bob immediately looked in the direction they were staring, and his breath caught in his throat. All three of them were now eyeing you up where you stood behind the counter. You were smiling at one of the patrons and filling a pastry box with donuts. 

"She's kinda hot," Bradley whispered.

"Better than that. She's fucking gorgeous," Jake replied.

Bob silently agreed with them, noting the adorable smudge of flour on your cheek. He had always been a little shy, a little timid around women. And he was not about to get into a dick measuring contest with Bradley and Jake. He would just let the two of them fight it out, because Bob was never the one to get the stunning girl.

When it was their turn to order, Bob watched the other two men trip over each other to get to the counter first. You smiled at each of them in turn, your gaze lingering on Bob and making him blush. 

"Hi! What can I get for you fellas?" you asked the three of them, and Bob completely forgot what he was going to order. 

"Hey, gorgeous. What would you recommend?" Bradley asked in a deep and raspy voice as he leaned against the counter and peered at you over his aviators. 

You chuckled and shook your head. "I would recommend the citrus muffin with orange zest."

"Perfect, I'll get six of those," he said, his smile twitching below his mustache. "I'm Bradley, by the way."

"And I'm Jake! And I'll get a dozen muffins." Bob watched Jake flash you a megawatt smile, and he wished he could be half as charming. 

"A dozen muffins?" you asked Jake. Your eyes skimmed back over Bob's face with an amused glint in your eye. 

"Actually, I'll take two dozen," Bradley said, changing his order and glaring at Jake. 

"So you want a total of three dozen muffins?" you asked before turning toward the bakery case. "Okay.... seems excessive," you muttered. 

Bob watched you intently as you packed up bakery boxes of muffins and entered them into the register. You must have known what was going on here, but you just smiled at the three of them as you worked. 

"Anything for you?" you asked, flashing Bob a smile that made him feel a little nervous. "You're awfully quiet back there."

"Uh, just a small coffee, please," he muttered, getting out his wallet and trying to stay cool.

"One hundred and twenty eight dollars is your total," you announced, and Jake and Bradley both tried to get you to take their credit cards at the same time. 

"I've got it, I insist," Bradley said.

"Use my platinum card," Jake announced loudly.

"Use mine. His will definitely be declined," Bradley replied, trying to nudge Jake out of the way.

You carefully took one in each hand and said, "Um... I'm just going to split it between both cards. How does that sound?"

When the enormous quantity of muffins had been collected, and you handed Bob his coffee, he forced himself to meet your eyes. "Thank you, miss," he said softly, as your fingers grazed against his. "You have a lovely day."

Bob watched you bite your lip as he tucked five dollars into the tip jar and nodded his head at you.

"Thanks. See you soon, I hope," you called as he turned to leave. Bob glanced back one last time as he exited the bakery, and you were still looking at him.

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

On Tuesday at lunchtime, Bob was about to eat the sandwich he had packed, but Jake suggested going back to the bakery. 

"I hope she's working again today," Bradley said, grabbing his car keys. 

Jake nodded enthusiastically. "Hot little piece like that, she's gotta have a boyfriend."

Bradley snorted. "Wouldn't be the first time I've stolen a girl from another guy."

"What makes you think she'd pick you when I'm available?" Jake asked.

Bob just tuned them out until they all arrived at the bakery. He was hoping to see you again too, but he just wanted to listen to your voice and watch you smile. He'd let the other two do most of the talking. They were good at that sort of thing.

"Gorgeous," Bradley called you. "How've you been?"

"Fine," you replied, once again smiling at the three of them. "What can I get for you today? Another coffee for you?" you asked Bob, and he just nodded in reply. He didn't need more caffeine today, but he wanted you to hand him the cup again. He'd just give it to Phoenix when he got back on base. 

Bob listened to the other two men once again order more pastries than anyone could ever need, and this time Jake pulled a massive wad of cash out of his wallet and insisted on paying for everything. Bradley had a sour look on his face that he tried to hide when you smiled at him and handed him two bags of food. 

Then he stood to his full height, chest puffed out. "Thanks, gorgeous," Bradley said, sliding his aviators back into place. Bob watched Jake try to stand as tall as Bradley, failing and looking ridiculous in the process. Bob just closed in on himself a little more, trying to blend his tall frame into the background. 

"And your coffee," you said, handing the disposable cup to Bob with another beautiful smile. His hand shook when he accepted the cup, and a little bit of the beverage sloshed down the sleeve of his flight suit and splashed onto the counter.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Bob muttered, setting down the cup and reaching for the napkins. 

"No, it was my fault," you assured him. "I'll clean it up, you don't have to."

"Bob!" Jake called from the doorway. "What's the holdup, man? You coming?"

"Uh, I'll meet you at the car," he replied, mopping up the drink and drying his sleeve.

"Your name's Bob?" you asked him softly. 

He glanced up to meet your warm gaze and nodded once. "Yes. I'm Lieutenant Robert Floyd, but everyone calls me Bob," he said quietly. 

You smiled and told him your name. "Here you go, Bob. These are on the house. Sorry I spilled your coffee."

Bob took a small paper bag from you and picked up his coffee cup once more. "Oh, that's not necessary. It was my fault."

"I insist," you told him. "See you again soon?"

He looked down at his feet and smiled. "Yes. See you again soon."

"I can't wait."

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

On Friday morning, Bob was a nervous wreck. He'd been thinking about you all week, but he knew the other guys had been, too. They had been talking about you a lot, but Bob was too shy to tell them he was also interested in you. 

He'd given the coffee to Phoenix the other day, but he smiled when he opened the bag and found a croissant. His favorite. It seemed like you knew. And it was flaky and perfect, and he couldn't wait to see you again and get another one. 

"Bakery time!" Bradley announced. "Time to visit the hottie. You coming, Bob?"

Bob fell into step behind him and Jake, but then Reuben and Javy were joining as well. "Everyone's coming today?" Bob asked, squeezing into Reuben's car along with the other four. 

"Yeah, can't wait to see this girl," Javy said. 

"Heard she's sexy," Reuben agreed. 

Bob just stared out the window and sighed. He was just going to have to get over his crush on you. It was the only way to keep his heart from breaking. He wouldn't look at you, and he wouldn't talk to you. And he definitely wouldn't eat another croissant. 

He shuffled into the bakery behind the others, and there you were. He tried to look at all of the baked goods in the case, but you greeted him by name. You greeted only him by name. 

"Hi," he managed, and the other four guys turned to glare at him. 

"Gorgeous, what would you recommend today?" Bradley asked you.

"Blueberry muffins are good today," you replied, and you started packing up a box full at Javy's request. 

"So, how long have you been working here?" Reuben asked, leaning so far across the counter, he may as well have just jumped over. 

"I'm the owner and primary baker," you told them, and Bob was so impressed. 

"Wow, gorgeous. Your muffins are really famous around here. We can't stop coming back for more," Bradley said, smirking at you. But you were looking at Bob again as he inched forward. 

"Did you make the croissant? It was very good," he told you, unable to look away. 

You beamed at him. "I did. They're my specialty."

Bob swallowed hard, all four guys looking at him in surprise now. "Could... uh, could I have another one? I'll pay for it this time though, if you don't mind. It was delicious."

"Of course, Bob. Anything you want." You turned to get a bag ready, and Bob thought he might faint. 

Jake turned and mouthed at him, "Anything you want?"

Bob just shrugged and made his way toward the register. He was pouring sweat in his flight suit, trying to stay as calm as possible. You met him at the other end of the counter and smiled as you slid a bag and a small coffee his way. 

"Three dollars," you told him softly, as if you could tell he was nervous, but you didn't seem to mind.

"What about the coffee?" he asked as he adjusted his glasses.

"On the house."

Bob quickly paid you for the croissant, as he could already hear Jake and the others getting restless. 

Jake leaned across the counter as you ran his credit card. "You interested in pilots?" he asked with a smirk. 

You just swiped the card and handed it back to him. "You're all pilots?" you asked, smiling at all of them. 

"Nah, Bob here is just a backseater," Reuben said loudly, slapping Bob on the back and nearly spilling his coffee.

"Oh, so Bob's the brains of the operation? Sounds about right," you said, sending a subtle wink in his direction. 

Bob's ears felt a little fuzzy and his collar felt a little too tight. Maybe he had imagined the wink. Yes, that must be it. 

The guys all hooted, and Jake said, "Well sure, Bob's smart and organized, but that's not as exciting."

You just shrugged. "Still sounds exciting to me. Hope you guys all have a safe flight this afternoon. Enjoy your croissant, Bob."

He floated out onto the sidewalk with the others, still in a daze. 

"What the fuck, guys? She likes Bob the best?" Javy said in disbelief as they all walked back to the car. "Hangman and Rooster, you two really dropped the ball."

"Does she?" Bob asked quietly. "She likes me?"

Reuben shoved half a muffin into his mouth and grinned. "You should ask her out, man." 

Bob thought about asking you out the whole drive back to base and as he walked to meet up with Phoenix. When he finally opened the bag to eat his croissant, he saw that you had put three inside. 

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

Late Saturday morning, Bob paced around outside of the bakery with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He'd peeked in through the window and saw that you and another girl were working, but he'd lost his nerve. He was on the verge of heading back to his car and calling it a day when the door opened, and he could smell the croissants. 

"You can do it," he told himself and rushed inside before he could turn around.

"Bob!" you called with a bright smile. "Back for more croissants?"

He took a deep breath and headed toward you. He noticed you were looking at the flowers in his hand, but you didn't say anything or rush him to respond, which he appreciated. You just smiled and leaned on the counter. 

"Yes, I would like another croissant," he muttered, and you pushed up from the counter to get it for him. "Actually, I would like two. But you need to let me pay for both of them today."

"Okay. Sure, Bob," you said with the tiniest smile as you put two into a bag. But now you didn't look as happy, and he wanted to kick himself. How had he messed this up already?

He met you at the register, and you asked him, "So, are the flowers for your wife? Or your girlfriend?"

"Oh, neither," he said, lifting them a little higher. "I don't have either of those."

You looked up at him and bit your lip. "Who's the extra croissant for?"

Bob watched your lips as you waited for him to answer. He was sweating, but he was in too deep to turn back now. "I, um... thought maybe we could eat them together. When you're done working. If you're not too busy."

Your smile lit up your face again. "I would like that."

Bob's smile matched your own. "You would?"

"Yeah," you told him with a nod. "You're so sweet. Much better than your friends. Are those flowers for me?"

Bob looked at the floor as he felt himself blushing. "Oh, yeah," he said, handing them to you. "Of course they are."

He watched you disappear into the kitchen for a minute, only to reappear without the flowers or your apron. Then you joined him on his side of the counter. Without any hesitation, you placed one hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek.

"Let's go for a walk," you told him, and Bob's heart was absolutely pounding for you. "I know a nice bench, perfect for eating croissants."

Bob felt you lace your fingers through his, and he held your hand in his larger one. "Lead the way."

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

This fic is for my Bobby loving friend Alex!!! @bradshawsbitch

Thanks to Alli @beyondthesefourwalls for giving this a read for me.

I hope I have done our Loverboy Bob justice!

@theamuz

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@endofdays56

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@t-nd-rfoot

@wkndwlff

@eddiemunsonreader

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[pinkdaiisies]

eddie munson x gn!reader

eddie helps you make your first dnd character.

content: eddie & r are friends, no descriptions of r's appearance, no pronouns used for r, no use of y/n, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of smoking weed

word count: 1.8k

( yes i used the 5e rules for this because i'm lazy, please don't come for me for not being 100% time period accurate lmao )

hellfire club banner by @/strangergraphics

"So I have to roll these dice to determine my character's stats?”

The paper of your character sheet crinkled and Eddie's shitty mattress creaked as you leaned over the Dungeons and Dragons books splayed out between you to reach for the only regular dice apparently used in this game. The Hellfire boys assured you that you'd get to grips with all the different kinds of dice in no time, but you begged to differ.

Eddie had finally convinced you to have a go at playing DnD with him and the other boys from Hellfire. You'd lost count of how many times he'd begged you to give it a try, but it was only a matter of time before you caved to those big, doey, brown eyes of his.

Much to Eddie's delight, the day you finally caved came and you were now in his trailer, sat cross-legged across from him on his bed with sheets of paper, books, dice and pencils cluttering the space between you as he helped you make your character. The faint sounds of W.A.S.P could be heard playing quietly in the background through his record player.

"That's right; roll four of these guys six times and remove the lowest result each time you roll." Eddie explained, dropping the normal dice - or the D6s as he insisted they be called - into the palm of your hand. "Add each roll up and then you can assign them to the stat you want.”

You sat back down, your character sheet crinkling again with your movements, Eddie's black and red ombre dice clutched in your hand. As you prepared to roll them onto the large, hardback Player's Handbook in the middle of the mess of paper, a crease appeared in your brow in confusion.

"But...what if my rolls are, like, really shit?" You asked.

That signature devilish grin crept its way across Eddie's face, paired with that usual mischievous glint in his eyes. "Then I guess you'll just be playing on hard mode.”

You shot him a pointed look and he laughed, that wonderful sound filling up his little bedroom.

"I'm kidding. Obviously if all of them are shitty I'll let you reroll, I'm not a complete sadist."

The furrow in your brow disappeared, instead being replaced by a small, amused smirk as you raised an eyebrow. "You so are."

Eddie gasped and reeled back dramatically, clutching at his chest as if he'd been shot in the heart. You shoulders began to shake as you giggled at his dramatics and that familiar fluttering sensation began to bloom beneath your ribcage while Eddie tried to regain his balance. He leant forward again, his pointy elbows resting on the little parts of exposed knee peeking through the rips in his jeans.

You'd been aware of these budding feelings for Eddie for a few months now. At first you thought the giddy feeling that bubbled within you whenever you saw him was just joy over a new friendship, but as time passed you began to realise that, nope, what you were feeling was actually the beginnings of a crush.

A crush you were very much convinced was unrequited.

Before said crush could get a glance at what you assumed was some sort of lame, lovestruck look on your face, you squashed that fluttering feeling down as best you could and began to roll the dice.

Eddie watched closely as you shook the dice in your hands and rolled for your stats. His chocolate brown eyes studied your face as they usually did when he knew - or was pretty damn sure - you weren't looking. The slope of your nose, the curve of your cheeks, the cute little Cupid's bow in your top lip, and the tip of your tongue that he could just spy poking out from between your lips as you concentrated on adding your rolls up and jotting them down in your doodle-ridden notepad.

A few stray hairs slipped down into your face as you hunched over your notepad and it took all of Eddie's restraint to not reach over and brush them aside to tuck them behind your ear. There were times he thought you harbored the same feelings he'd hidden away, but he'd always had a nasty habit of second guessing himself when it came to people he was attracted to - especially when it came to you.

Eddie was painfully aware of the fact that if he made his feelings known to you and you didn't reciprocate, it would put a strain on his friendship with you, if not ruin it completely. Although Jeff had assured Eddie when he sought out his friend's advice that he was "pretty sure" you liked him back, he was simply too much of a coward to put himself in such a vulnerable position.

It wasn't until you said his name for a third time that Eddie was pulled out from his own messy head and back into his messy bedroom.

"Huh?" He willed the heat rising to his cheeks to kindly fuck off, embarrassed that you'd caught him staring at you.

The corners of your lips quirked upwards as you spied that rosy pink hue blooming across Eddie's cheeks and you automatically reached a hand up to tuck those stray hairs back behind your ear, your eyes flicking back down to your character sheet. You were pretty sure you'd caught Eddie checking you out and just the thought of it being a possibility had your heart thumping hard in your chest.

"Um...I finished rolling. You said I'd want my wisdom stat to be the highest for a druid, right?" You asked, meeting his gaze again.

“Uh, yeah that's right. Gimme a sec,” Eddie chuckled nervously and was quick to grab the Player's Handbook, very much eager to move on from the awkwardness of being caught. He was relieved you didn't seem too weirded-out by it. If anything, if his eyes didn't deceive him, you seemed almost…into it?

He chalked it up to wishful thinking on his part, though Jeff's words did start to ring a little more true than they had done before.

The two of you got to work on building your character - stats, skills, equipment, gold and spells. You were pretty satisfied with everything, save for maybe your Armour Class which left something to be desired.

“Aaand I think all that's left to do is your hit points. You'll want-” Eddie flicked back a page or two in the Handbook. “-Ah, eight plus your Constitution modifier, then for every level above first you can either take a five plus your con, or gamble and roll a D8 for something higher.” His warm, brown gaze rose from the book to meet your own and he cocked his head to the side, some of his unruly dark curls falling in front of his shoulders. “What d’ya wanna do?”

You pondered for a moment before grinning. “Well obviously I've gotta gamble.”

A bright smile broke out on Eddie's face, those familiar little crow’s feet forming at the corners of his big round eyes. If it could, your heart would've leapt out from your chest and right into his hands.

“That's the spirit!” He clapped his hands together and the thick silver of his rings clinked against one another. “But be warned, I won't allow any re-rolls this time so you'll have to take whatever you get.”

You were pretty sure that a D8 was the small, diamond-shaped one. As you reached out to grab the dice, Eddie did just the same. Your hands brushed against one another, sending tingles right up from where your skin touched his, through your body right to the tips of your toes. You heard Eddie's breath hitch and your heart skipped a beat at the tiny little sound.

For a moment it seemed like neither you nor Eddie could - or wanted to - move, and the longer you sat there, frozen, the more you felt your face get hotter and hotter.

Before you could say or do anything, Eddie took your hand and flipped it over so your palm faced upwards, plucked the D8 from its place amongst the plethora of dice and placed it into your hand. When you managed to finally tear your eyes away from your hand in his to look up at him, Eddie's own gaze was already fixated on your face, a small smile on his pink lips and a red hue dusting his pale cheeks.

The corners of your lips twitched upwards as you began to pull your hand away, but Eddie caught it before it could go too far.

“H-Hey, uh…” He stuttered, gathering up his courage. “...I know you only came over here to make your character but, uh, did you wanna carry on hanging out afterwards?” His hand was slightly sweaty, but you didn't mind it. “We could have a smoke, watch a movie and order pizza or something - y'know, if you want to?” His voice cracked halfway through asking. Eddie wasn't a religious guy, but if you rejected his offer he truly would start praying for his shitty mattress to swallow him whole, especially after a his voice cracked like he was fucking 16 again.

It felt like a mini explosion of butterflies had gone off in your tummy. “Really?”

You looked absolutely star struck; raised brows, glittering eyes, pink cheeks and lips slightly parted. The only other time Eddie had seen you with that look on your face was the first time you'd seen him shredding on his guitar and he knew there and then that he was absolutely fucked. Seeing it again now while you were sat just a mere few feet away had him wanting to pull you in by the hand he still held and kiss you.

“Y-Yeah! I mean, my uncle’s working the night shift tonight so we'd be able to chill out without him hanging around. But no pressure or anything, y'know.” He let go of your hand to scratch the back of his head, chuckling nervously.

The word date hung heavy and unspoken in the air between you.

You closed your fist around the D8 sat in your palm and pulled your hand back towards you as you nodded, smiling brightly at Eddie while your heart hammered in your chest with excitement. “No, that sounds really nice. I'm down for that.”

The giddiest grin broke out on Eddie's face and you were sure if eyes could sparkle, Eddie's would've been the source of a golden-brown disco ball effect as the orange light of the sunset shone through the open blinds over his window.

“Cool! Cool cool cool cool.” Was all Eddie could think to say as the adrenaline rush filtered its way through his body. He fiddled with the thick silver ring on his index finger, unable to keep that grin off his face. “So we'll finish this up and I'll roll us a couple of joints then?”

You returned Eddie's grin. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

[pinkdaiisies]

i'm not in love

in which angus always preferred being alone. at least, he used to.

pairing is angus tully x fem!reader

word count is 3.4k

author says don't look at me <3 not proofread bc it's me

you should watch out for college-aged angus, mostly just two besties who are so in love it makes them stupid

title song is i'm not in love // 10cc

angus tully answers his mother’s biweekly calls diligently. not because either of them truly want to speak to each other—it’s more perfunctory than anything. she calls and asks about school, and he tells her it’s good. then he asks about stanley, and she tells him about stanley’s job, and then she’ll ask angus about his job. he tells her it’s fine, and she offers him money that he’ll accept only if he’s in a particularly foul mood. after three years, they almost have it down to a perfect script. 

at least, he thought they did. 

“how’s y/n?”

the question catches him so off-guard that his sharp intake of breath makes him choke, but judy waits patiently for an answer. he mentioned you every once in a while. mostly, he likes that you’re an entirely separate part of his life from his mother and stanley. he’ll bring you up if she asks why he isn’t coming home on a holiday, or on the off-chance she asks about his weekend plans. yours is one of the only names he’s ever given her when he talks about school, and one of the only ones that seems to stick around longer than a few months at a time. “she’s…good,” he responds tentatively.

“what are you guys doing tonight?”

he stares at his phone in bemusement. “what is this?”

she sighs, and he can almost see that displeased look on her face. he had it memorized. “when are we going to meet her?”

“why do you want to meet her?” he asks. if he really thinks about it, it makes sense. you two had lived across from one another for three years, and you had fallen together in a way that almost felt predetermined. you are the longest standing person in his life post-high school, and his mother knows this.

he had always preferred being alone. even as a child, he had no interest in playing with the neighborhood kids in the middle of the street. he liked doing things by himself. he liked doing what he wanted without having to inform anyone else. when he had gone to college and found a semi-affordable apartment that he wouldn’t have to share, he had been elated. the cute girl across the hall had just been a plus. 

you two had always just worked. he holds everyone at arm's length, but it had never even occurred to him to shut you out. you two end up together most nights, watching movies or doing homework. it happens so easily that he hardly recognizes how strange it is. perpetual wallflower angus tully is attached.

“well, you two have been together for a while. if things are serious, i think it’s best that we meet her.”

angus blinks, shocked, before a nervous laugh bubbles up in his chest. it starts low, but the longer she waits in her own confused silence, the louder and more unruly his laughter becomes. he’s laughing—not because the idea is ridiculous, but because it’s so plausible that it takes him by surprise. he had spent the last two years trying to bury his feelings for you, and he had been so unsuccessful that even his mother had picked up on it.

“angus,” she snaps, and he giggles, even though it isn’t funny, even though his stomach twists and rolls in a way that makes him feel sick.

“i’m sorry,” he gasps, covering his eyes. “just…we—y/n and i aren’t together.”

there’s a long moment of silence where he catches his breath before his mom says, “angus, that’s not funny.”

“well, it is, if you think about it really hard,” he offers. she sighs, exasperated, and angus rubs his eyes. he can’t possibly explain to his mother what about this situation is truly amusing, because really, it isn’t funny. it’s not funny that he’s desperately in love with his best friend, and it’s not funny that she oscillates between entirely oblivious and seemingly aware. 

“you’re telling me you’ve been missing family holidays for a girl you aren’t dating?” 

he can tell she doesn’t believe him, and he doesn’t bother reminding her that they haven’t had a real family holiday in years. long before he started university, and long before he met you. besides, answering that question honestly is dangerous, and should he not handle this delicately, he’ll find himself on the wrong side of his mother’s wrath.

“uh…”

he’s fumbling, panicking, and it only gets worse when he hears his front door open. “angus?” you call, and his whole body cringes, his head falling to rest on the wall.

“angus,” judy warns.

“yeah,” he blurts, watching you round the corner. you smile, offering only a small wave as you drop your bag onto his kitchen table. “no, mom, obviously not. that would be ridiculous.”

as he feels her anxiety cease, his own skyrockets. he’s focused entirely on you; your back is turned toward him as you open his fridge, searching through the shelves for something to eat. if it were anyone else, he’d be irritated, but he almost loves it when you do it. loves that you feel comfortable enough in his home to make yourself feel at home, that he can take care of you in the smallest way. most nights, when he lies in bed and thinks of you, he finds himself thinking of the ways he could take care of you. the ways he could give you what he never had, the things that had been ripped from him. security. unconditional affection. peace. he’s barely listening when his mother sighs again. “you know, i don’t understand your humor sometimes.”

“i know,” he says. you kick the fridge closed, enough food in your hands to feed both of you. “hey, she actually just got here. can i let you go?”

“not until you answer my question.” her voice is clipped now, and angus winces. some nights she’s a little more forgiving with his distraction, a little more responsive to the things he says that she doesn’t necessarily understand. tonight, he’s more distracted than usual and less decipherable than ever. “when can we meet her?”

angus groans, and you smile over your shoulder. you know better than anyone how much he struggles with his mother. you’ve listened in on many of their phone calls, and patiently listened to him complain about them later. “i don’t know, mom.”

“how about easter?” she asks. angus turns to lean against the wall and watch you, and you lean against the counter, waiting for him to be done. he rolls his eyes, a silent cue that things are taking longer than he’d like. “stanley and i can drive up that saturday and take you guys out for a nice dinner. on us.”

reluctantly, only because he knows that she’ll blow a gasket if they don’t nail down plans on this phone call, and because he wants this to be over, he huffs. he pulls the receiver away slightly and asks, “you want to have dinner with my mom and stanley easter weekend?”

you blink owlishly. “what? why?”

“they want to meet you.”

“why?” you insist. he glares at you impatiently; knowing angus—more, knowing what you know about his mother—an answer is needed now, and explanation must come later. the idea of meeting his mom makes your stomach turn uncomfortably, but there he stands. even with a hard glare, you feel safe with him. you feel the need to do what he asks of you, and you know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t ask if he thought it would be something you couldn’t handle. “uh…i guess, yeah.”

he offers a grateful smile. “easter weekend sounds great, mom.”

they quickly finalize plans before hanging up, and the second the receiver is back on hook, he groans loudly, rubbing his eyes. you wait for him to speak, but he stands with his hands over his eyes, hiding from you. “angus.”

“she thinks you’re my girlfriend,” he blurts.

you really don’t mean to start laughing. “what?”

his lips turn up in a sheepish smile. “i guess they’ve thought we were together this entire time,” he chuckles. “and i panicked! she accused me missing holidays to spend time with you and i didn’t want to get in trouble—”

you clutch your stomach, doubled over in laughter. he doesn’t want to laugh—frankly, he’s a little hurt that you find the idea so laughable, but he had laughed, too. “you caved,” you gasp. “you caved and told a lie because you didn’t want to get in trouble with your mommy.”

“okay.” he rolls his eyes. “whatever. you’re part of this now, too.”

your giggles die down and you turn to take the food out of the microwave. “hey, i could back out. i could break up with you at any time.”

he scoffs, but doesn’t respond. often enough, when you’re doing exactly what you’re doing now, angus’ feelings become overwhelming. watching you move around his kitchen with the kind of natural domesticity makes him feel choked, buried under his overflowing affection.

the harder he fights his feelings, the worse they get. you’re his best friend—it’s not on purpose, either; you aren’t at all the kind of person he ever thought he would fall for. you were bitingly funny, of course, but you fought him constantly. he wouldn’t even say you were particularly nice for the first few months you two knew one another. you’re entirely out of left field, and he can’t even get a read on you half the time—not that he even really wants to. part of him thinks that knowing exactly what you think about him would be truly crushing.

“i guess a free meal could be nice,” you tease, stirring your dinner with a knowing smile.

“yeah, you’re so unused to those,” he bites, pushing himself off the wall. you beam.

it’s surprising, in a way, that you hadn’t met angus’ mom and stepfather already. he’s met your family a thousand times over; they take you both out to dinner every single time they visit you. they had sent him a birthday gift this year, for christ’s sake. but you could probably count the amount of time angus had seen his mother in the last three years on both hands. you were surprised enough that she even remembered your name.

you had spent your entire friendship with angus thinking about his mother. being angry with her. your best friend is caring, in his own stilted, modest way. he’s witty and so smart that it intimidates you, and he’s loyal. it tells you all you need to know that his relationship with his mother isn’t strong. 

he bumps you out of the way, and you let him. you watch him open the cupboard for plates to evenly split the leftover pasta, and your chest nearly heaves with confused affection. you see the way he looks at you when he’s not careful. with an unrestrained reverence, with a tenderness that can’t be forced. it had made you uncomfortable, at first. made you feel like you couldn’t be around him anymore. you had tried to pull away—for a day or two. 

the reality of the entire situation is that angus tully belongs in your life. you adore him too much to cut him out, and even if you didn’t, it kills you to think of him alone. he’s a lone wolf; it’s amazing enough that you two have connected the way that you have. if angus didn’t have you, he had a few friends from class. maybe two or three guys from work. but nothing as deep, nothing as serendipitous as your friendship. 

discomfort with his feelings had grown into a tentative acceptance once you realized he had no plans on acting on them, and after a few months, tentative acceptance had grown into…something else entirely. you aren’t sure exactly what it is. it isn’t like those juvenile, giddy crushes you had harbored in high school. angus doesn’t keep you up at night, nor does he make you lovesick. he puts you at ease. he makes you feel safe. he makes you feel like yourself.

you don’t want to confront the strange sense of peace that angus has offered you without even knowing. without even trying. you don’t want to change your friendship, or misattribute your feelings, so you ignore them. and you ignore the way he looks at you, and how he insists on making your favorite dinners, even though he complains about you eating his leftovers, and how he uses your spare key to lock your door every single time he leaves your apartment without fail. 

your knees bump together under the tiny table in his kitchen as you two eat dinner. you listen to him talk about his coworkers, lulled into relaxation by his deep voice; you always loved your dinnertime conversations. mostly, one of you just talked. you would talk about school and work and your classmates and your days; they aren’t even really conversations. it’s just an excuse to talk and an opportunity to listen. he doesn’t mind when you don’t respond, and neither of you care if the other person talks the entire time. it’s time spent together more than anything else. you think about how effortless it feels. how you could do this every night with intention, not under the guise of getting out of your apartment. you think about the dinner with his mom, and how you’ll both put on nice outfits to go out, and how you’ll come home together, and how you’ll dissect every detail of the dinner and the conversations for the entire night, if not for days afterwards.

you notice only a moment too late that you’ve zoned out, and angus kicks your shin gently. “you good?”

with a reassuring smile, you nod. “yeah. i’m just thinking about dinner with your mom.”

he’s bashful when he laughs quietly. “yeah…sorry. i know i kind of screwed you over.” you can tell that he truly does feel bad, but the longer you think about it, the less you dread it. you think you might actually like an excuse to acknowledge the way angus looks at you, for him to not have to hide it. 

“i don’t know…i’m kind of excited,” you admit, pushing food around your plate. angus looks at you from under his lashes, taking pause at your tone. you refuse to look at him, and it sends his heart into overdrive; he’s panicked, certainly, and so in love with you that it makes him nauseous. he isn’t entirely sure that he’ll survive a night of you pretending. of it all feeling so real.

he can feel a confession coming, bubbling up in his chest, and he swallows in panic. “she’s—she’ll like you, i think.”

with a slight smile, you push your plate away from you. “i’m not sure i’ll like her.”

which he loves about you, naturally. 

he clears his throat to bury the confession and stands; angus grabs both plates and turns his back to you to hide his flushed cheeks. shamelessly, since he can’t see you, you watch him, soothed simply by the way he moves. by how familiar he is. by how you can almost predict every move he makes. the words fall out before you’re even cognizant of them

“just so you know, i don’t mind your mom thinking i’m your girlfriend.”

the way he freezes makes your shoulders tense. you hadn’t meant to say that. it was true, but he didn’t need to know that. angus’ mind screeches to a full stop before it starts running ten times faster than before. what did that mean?

slowly—so slowly that you almost don’t notice—he sets the plates in the sink. you won’t get out of this. you know you won’t, because you know angus. once the door is open, he’ll take the opportunity to push it every single time. “why?” he asks, his voice a carefully constructed tone of ease. he plays it well; his nonchalance is almost perfectly natural. it nearly tricks you.

still kicking yourself, you shrug even though he can’t see you. instead, you start emptying your bag to distract yourself. textbooks and notebooks and pencils clatter against the table. “just…we could sell it, don’t you think?” it’s not even close to what he wants to hear, and you buckle down even though you know you won’t win this one. “we know everything about each other.”

he snorts, and it puts you at ease. not because you’re going to get out of this. you know something dangerous is going to come out of this conversation, but because it’s angus. it’s your best friend. and you know him, and you know the way he treats you is symptomatic of something much larger. it used to scare you, but it doesn’t now. not now that he washes your dishes, the sleeves of his sweater pushed up to his elbows. you trust him. you know that any vulnerability you share will be returned to you tenfold.

“yeah, right. that just makes it convenient,” he says knowingly, head tilting. he watches you sort through your textbooks, hiding your anxiety while you busy yourself.

part of you hopes that he’ll just drop it. not because you don’t think things will work out, but because you love how things are between the two of you. the almosts, the what-ifs, the wondering is something you so love to savor. it’s still so easy between you two; all of those what-ifs still exist only in your minds, only in the silent space between you that neither of you are willing to acknowledge. there’s plausible deniability. there’s safety.

you smile shakily, glancing up at him. “i guess i mean…that we…work?”

he smiles back, comforting but still audacious. “and by that, you mean…”

with a groan, you fold your arms and bury your face in them. you know this leap can only be beneficial, but you’re struggling to let yourself admit anything. it’s more frustrating than the denial. 

angus stares at you, suddenly the emotionally constipated one, and his heart is pounding in his ears. he can feel it beating against his chest; he’s not brave enough to hope. it’s too scary for him to wonder if this is finally it, if you had been as keenly aware as he had assumed you to be. 

“just…i think there’s a reason my mom thinks we’re together. just so you know.” you groan louder, unmoved by his words, and he continues, “beyond the fact that we’re constantly together.”

you peek up at him, your chin still pressed against your forearms. he watches you, big brown eyes wide open with vulnerability. he’s waiting. you figure it’s as good of a segue as he’s going to give you. with a deep breath, ignoring the turning and rolling of your stomach, you say, “i feel like…things could be like that between us.”

he breaks into a smile so wide that you have to look away from him. “oh, is that what this is about?” he asks facetiously. 

you grunt, irritated. “don’t tease me.”

he laughs, uncrossing his arms. you don’t even want to look at him, humiliated. he hasn’t rejected you—in fact, you know he’s just keeping you on the line to tease you. it irritates you, but he seems giddy, even if he tries to act like he’s unaffected. he can’t keep that goofy smile off his face. it entirely gives him away. “hey,” he says, voice bright. “c’mere.”

“no,” you spit, annoyed. you know that the second you give in, everything will change. for the better, you think, but it will change. you hold on to the wondering for just a moment longer, but you can’t help yourself. he waits patiently at the counter, holding on to the ledge. you like the wondering, but you think you’re ready to find out if it’s as good as it seems it would be.

self-conscious, you cross the room to him. you stand only centimeters apart, and he grins at you, fingers gently stroking the hem of your collar. “you know, right?”

you don’t have to ask what he means. you know. maybe not the depths, but you know. the way he looks at you is enough to let you know. the way he takes care of you tells you what his words haven’t yet. they will. “you can’t hide from me, angus tully.”

he loves that about you, too. he’ll tell you all the specifics later. for now, he kisses you, a long arm around your waist, and you think that this is much better than the what-ifs.

[pinkdaiisies]

i am LOVING your angus tully content 💕 would you please write an angus tully x reader where the reader meets angus in boston while they’re ice skating and then they get to know each other as they explore the city, sort of ‘before sunrise’ style and hunham gives them the space to do so? if you don’t like this idea though that’s totally okay!! have a lovely day regardless :)

𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫

pairing: angus tully x fem!reader word count: 4k notes: reader is very nervous & dorky! thank u for sending 🤎

the chilly december air stung your cheeks, leaving them reddened and sore, but that didn’t stop you from braving the weather and heading to the public skating rink. your friends had cancelled on you last minute, one of them falling sick with a nasty cold and the other deciding that her boyfriend was more important than a night with you during the festivities that boston had to offer. you couldn't be angry at her, though, you were a hopeless romantic at heart and would do the same if you had a boyfriend. you were happy that your best friend found someone so perfect for her, you dreamed of finding him too—the perfect boy.

though, you usually just giggled in your bed at night when you imagined yourself spending the rest of your life with david cassidy. that was much easier than finding real love.

so, alone you were as you willed your way ahead through the boston streets where your father had dropped you off. you promised yourself you'd start getting out of your nervous shell and what better way to test it than being alone at a skating rink? especially when you were notoriously clumsy and horrendous at skating.

if you could do this, you could do anything.

as you approached the skating rink you felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety flooding you. there were a lot of people, too many people, a lot of friends giggling with each other, children learning how to skate with their parents and partners holding hands as they stared into each other's eyes lovingly. you sorely missed your friends, but you shoved that thought as deeply into your consciousness as you could because you promised yourself you wouldn't wallow in your loneliness.

and you were here, weren’t you? successfully making do without them. all you needed to do was get the skates on and make your way onto the ice—that’s all. getting here was half the battle.

comfort warmed you as you fit yourself into the hand-me-down skates your older sister had given you. you tried so hard not to think about the negatives because even if you slipped and fell, it’s not like anyone here knew you. there was not a single person on the rink that looked even the slightest bit familiar and you thanked god you lived in a busy city.

of course, you were unsuccessful in ridding those thoughts because all you could think about was that there was a likely chance you could embarrass yourself in front of a cute boy. you were too boy-crazy for your own good, your mother blamed david cassidy for it.

as you let out a shaky exhale, you darted your eyes around the exterior of the rink as you shrugged off your bag and held your winter boots in your hand. you had ran into your first problem of the evening; there was no one to watch your belongings.

that’s when you noticed an older man just to the left of you, smoking out of a pipe and watching the rink, smiling to himself. he seemed friendly enough, reminding you a lot of your grandpa. there was no better person to watch your things!

“excuse me sir,” you said to him, smiling as you approached him cautiously, “is it alright if i leave my things here next to you? i’m not skating for long… i just don’t want to take them onto the rink with me.”

the man hadn’t realized you were talking to him at first as he pulled the pipe out of his mouth and looked between you and someone on the skating rink. he smacked his lips together a few times in thought, “okay. sure, i don’t mind.” he mumbled, though you could tell that he minded.

he was grumpier than you pegged him to be.

“thank you so much! i won’t be long!” you smiled, happy that you had some form of success, but again you had to ward off the image in your head of him running off with your things. at least he’d only have stolen a woman’s snow boots and three dollars from your wallet.

as you waddled away, you hadn’t noticed that a boy on the rink had skated up to the older man, you were much too focused on not toppling over. your ankles were already wobbling back and forth as you navigated through the snow, unaware of the set of eyes that lingered on you with each step you took.

“you got this,” you breathed to yourself as you made it to the entrance, taking a long and deep breath that caught in your throat. you froze in your spot, feeling frigid as you watched the tens of people skating along the rink so seemingly expert in their ways.

a woman cleared her throat behind you and you jolted up, looking over your shoulder and seeing a mother and her two children waiting to step into the rink, “sorry!” you squealed as you hurried onto the ice and clung to the railing for dear life.

the sounds of the young kids snickering made your cheeks burn red, so you kept your eyes downward and stared at your mitten-covered hands as they gripped onto the rail. then you focused on your feet, slowly moving them back and forth on the ice as you got used to the feeling of the skates gliding across the frozen surface.

with a triumphant huff, you straightened up and slowly started to skate with your hand keeping balance on the edge, much like a learning child. at least they usually had a helper.

you had focused on this for a bit, getting into the swing of things. you looked around with a content smile, slowly moving and breathing in the crisp air as you focused on the sounds of laughter. the christmas spirit was high and you were happier than ever to be experiencing this alone, you couldn’t wait to go home and gush to your sister about your first solo adventure as a young woman.

satisfaction wasn’t fully met, however. you needed to challenge yourself further before calling it a night.

carefully, you let your hand off of the rail and moved carefully away from the edge. your eyes darted around your immediate surroundings, making sure you had enough of a clearing to start skating without bumping into anyone. a big smile grew on your face, you were by no means quick, but at least you were moving!

you focused your eyes back down on your feet, watching closely as you moved one in front of the other with intention. you were getting the hang of it, muscle memory coming back from when you skated as a kid. with your attention far from the outside world, you didn’t notice a duo of young girls coming right for you—too busy laughing amongst each other to notice you drifting in front of them.

one of the girls bumped hard into your shoulder and yelped out a sincere ‘sorry’ as you lost your balance on your feet. you almost kept yourself upright, but you quickly fell back.

you expected to crash down onto the ice with a hard thump, but two arms caught you, hooking underneath your armpits and hoisting you back upright onto your skates. you didn’t have the means to turn around all that quickly, but the person who saved you seemed to realize that, so he skated in front of you and turned to look at you. he made it seem so easy to skate backward.

“you okay?” he asked, but you hardly heard the words because you were so fascinated with how beautiful he was. he had the biggest brown eyes you’d ever seen and a head full of wild curls that he obviously tried to tame. he was also taller than you, making you feel so small under his gaze, but not threatening in the slightest. all you could do was smile at him like a dork.

your knight in shining armour.

a few moments pass and the realization hit that you had been completely silent, “thank you!” you blurted out, your eyes widening in horror because of how you were staring at him like a goddamned fool, "i'm not very good at this."

"you were doing fine until you got bulldozed over," the boy smiled, unabashedly looking you up and down. he cleared his throat and held out two of his gloved hands, "hang on."

you obeyed with no hesitation, your arms extending so you could take his gloved hands in your own. you felt your mouth go dry and you had to force your hands to stop shaking. you were always so much more anxious around boys.

"oh, god," you groaned in anticipation as he started skating backward, pulling you along and forcing you to focus on keeping balance, "you really don't have to spend your time here teaching me how to skate." you looked up at him, feeling like a burden.

"i know," he replied, grinning at you as he kept pulling you along the ice, his gaze only breaking to make sure he wasn't about to skate back into anyone. those brown eyes fell back on you, watching you with a soft gaze as you kept moving with one foot gliding in front of the other, "i'm angus."

"hi, angus," you smiled, chewing on the inside of your lip after you returned the introduction. you could feel your cheeks blushing. you looked down and at your feet again, but your lack of focus got the best of you, "ah, shit!"

just as you lost your footing and balance, nearly flying forward, angus wrapped an arm around you and laughed aloud, pulling you against him so you couldn't tip over. you could've stayed like that forever, nuzzled against this boy's chest and forgetting about the outside world.

"you're clumsy," he teased, flickering his gaze down at you as he led you both to the railing for a rest.

"you only just noticed?" you retorted playfully as you leaned against the support, letting yourself exhale in relief once you could rest the entirety of your weight against it. shyly, you looked back over to angus after a few beats of silence, "you're not here with anyone else?"

angus scrunched his nose in response, shrugging, "it's a long story."

"i like stories," you mused, not ready to let this end. whatever this was.

a breathy laugh came from him as he glanced away to look at something, you hadn't been able to follow his gaze before he was looking at you again. there was something about him that kept your attention, likely the fact that he genuinely seemed to enjoy your presence. it made you giddy and your stomach swirled with butterflies.

"well, i came here with my history teacher," he said, almost sheepishly. you looked at him with slightly furrowed brows, uncertain where this would be going, "i go to a boarding school out of town, north of here. i, uh, didn't get to spend christmas with my family and so i've been stuck at school with him as my chaperone. guess i'm good at convincing people to take me places," he chuckled, his gaze looking anywhere but at you.

"i don't think i would've guessed that story in a million years," you giggled, a smile reaching your eyes as you looked over angus' face, "sorry about your family, though. must be hard around the holidays."

"it's fine," he quipped quickly, you figured it best to not bring up his family anymore.

you fell silent for a bit, thinning your lips as you looked around and focused on your surroundings to pass the time and try to ignore the awkward silence. you watched a group of kids skating together, playfully shoving each other and laughing when one of them wiped out.

"did you want to skate again?" angus' voice broke the silence and you met his eyes. with a small nod, he smiled and gave you his hands again.

the two of you had spent another twenty minutes on the skating rink, laughing together as he taught you how to keep yourself upright. you were happy to report that you'd only fallen on your ass twice, and even when he laughed at you, you felt your heart soaring.

there must've been some good karma you stored up over the year because you weren't sure why you were blessed to run into angus on a night like this. he was cute, funny and just as awkward as you were.

once you two were tired and ready to hang the skates up, you ventured out of the rink and stood at the exit. you had to catch your breath after laughing over some joke angus had made about his time at barton, something stupid that wouldn't have made you laugh in another other situation. angus was just... nice. funny, but in an endearingly dorky way.

as you bent down to untie your skates, you straightened up with a panicked look on your face. "my stuff!" you said, looking up at angus and then around the exterior of the rink, trying to spot the man you'd left your things with. that's where the bad karma came in, leaving you with nothing.

"are you looking for these?" a third voice spoke, your eyes landing on the pipe-smoking man that angus seemed to recognize. you put the pieces together.

"yes! thank you so much!" you smiled as you took the boots from him and your bag, quickly changing into the shoes that allowed you to stand steady. you sighed softly with a smile and looked between the two men, "i, uh, thank you again, sir, for keeping an eye on my things. and thanks, angus, i'm sure by next winter i'll be an olympic figure skater," you smiled, not quite ready to leave without spending more time with the boy, but you weren't sure you'd have the choice.

as luck would have it, though, his teacher, mr. hunham, seemed to have a soft spot for the boy.

"mr. tully, i'm calling it an evening and will be heading to the hotel room, i'm rather tired this evening," the older man explained. you could see the pleading look on angus's face, "i expect to see you there within a few hours or lest you deal with multiple detentions when we're back at barton," he continued with a satisfied look on his face when angus smile, "keep an eye on him for me." he turned to you, letting out a huffy sigh as he looked between the two of you once more before turning on his heels and leaving.

angus was speechless.

"he seems like a nice man," you said in awe as you watched him, growing nervous for other reasons now.

"trust me. he's usually not," angus replied, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat as he looked down at you, "you look cold. i think i saw i coffee shop near here. they probably have hot chocolate or something."

"okay," you smiled, forcing yourself not to let your boy-crazy giddiness get the best of you again.

as you two ventured away from the skating rink, you found yourself feeling more comfortable with each passing second and talking about yourself like an open book. you spoke about everything and nothing, his favourite band was pink floyd and he was currently halfway through reading the novel dune. you shared your own love for the partridge family show, though, you kept your lips tight about your obsession with david cassidy.

you made a mental note to rip the poster of david off your wall if something were to ever come out of this night with you and angus, like hell he'd ever be in your room.

"what do you like so much about boston?" you asked angus as you two walked through one of the downtown streets in boston, your mittens shoved in your pocket as your hands cupped around the hot chocolate you sipped on. the heat emanated from the paper cup and warmed your hands. you two had been walking and talking for a while now and your drink was half-empty.

"you like long-winded answers, don't you?" angus said playfully, bumping himself against your side as you walked together. it caused a laugh to bubble up from you, your cheeks turning red at the closeness.

"what's so long about this answer?" you wondered aloud, glancing up at him.

"my dad is here," he said after taking a moment to think over his words, "he's uh, in the sanitorium," he murmured, not quite meeting your gaze, "not doing well mentally."

"you don't have to say anymore," you urged him, regretful that you asked the question in the first place.

"it's fine, i like you. you're not... judging me." angus admitted, flickering his eyes to you and smiling.

oh, god. that smile made your stomach do flips.

"why would i judge you?" you asked rhetorically, "you've been nothing but kind to me tonight. you didn't even know me and you caught me before i fell on my ass, i mean, that's the most any guy has ever done for me... and you bought me hot chocolate!" you were animated in your words as you spoke, not noticing how you lit up angus' facial expressions.

"like i said, it's because i like you." his lips twitched into a smile before he lifted his cup and downed the rest of his drink. you followed in suit, though, mostly to cover the way you had a smile stuck on your face like a lovesick puppy.

you two found an outdoor garbage bin and tossed your empty cups in, standing on a corner of the street that was near the courtyard with the skating rink. it was quiet there now, only then noticing how late it had gotten.

"so, what's your story?" angus interrupted your thoughts as he kept walking, you needing to take a few quick steps to meet his pace as he led you to a bench to sit down on. the perfect spot to watch the christmas lights flicker around the rink and people watch the last remaining people who were skating.

"it's hardly a story," you laughed, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked up to the night sky, the stars hidden because of the city lights, "i'm just crawling my way to graduation so i can get out of my parent's house and go to college," you look over at him, "are you graduating, too?"

he shook his head, "i was expelled a few times," he admitted with an amused look on his face, "should be graduating, but stuck as a junior because of my atrocious behaviour," he teased with a click of his tongue.

"expelled?" you laughed, "wow, i didn't expect such a gentleman like you to be so fond of troublemaking."

that got a laugh out of him, the smile reaching his eyes as he turned ever-so-slightly to better look at you while you two sat together, "yep, i'm the absolute worst. though, i plead my case as i've been wrongly accused of blowing up a toilet once when it was obviously not true."

"uh-huh," you smirked, "are you certain about the wrongly accused part?" you snorted a laugh.

the night was perfect. the two of you sharing so many laughs that your cheeks were hurting and you were beginning to feel like you knew angus for years and this was simply a reunion of friends. you knew at some point it would end, but you didn't want to think about it. not yet, it was too painful of a thought.

your laughter settled and you couldn't break your gaze from angus, the silence looming, but not overwhelming. as you admired him, you caught the way his brown eyes flickered down to your lips and you inhaled sharply, the breath catching.

"i, uh—can i kiss you?" his words were gentle, but they rang through your ears loudly, causing chaos and mayhem that left you feeling like a nervous wreck, "unless i'm reading this wrong."

you parted your lips to speak but nothing came out. all you could do was look down at his lips and nod, hoping that your movements spoke volumes. thankfully, they did.

angus leaned forward, hesitating for a second, but if you could will your way forward to adventuring boston alone, then you could sure as hell will your way forward to meet him halfway. you leaned forward bravely and closed your eyes just as your lips met his, a tingling sensation rolling waves over your skin.

it was a simple kiss, one that made your lips numb when you pulled away and looked up into his eyes. but it wasn’t enough for angus because you were soon pulled into another as his hand lifted and cupped your jaw, keeping you against him as your lips moved together at a gentle, easy pace. he parted your lips with his own, which gave him the space to slip his tongue into your mouth and cause a soft sound to escape your lips. you were fully entranced by him, completely malleable under his touch as you tasted his tongue on your own—sweet like chocolate.

this went on for a few minutes, maybe longer. you two indulging in the kiss you both were anticipating the moment you set eyes on each other.

“this sucks,” you murmured when the kiss finally broke, you two parting to breathe.

“why?” angus furrowed his brows slightly, his hand still on your jaw.

“because i really like you,” you said, pursing your lips into a pout, “and at some point i’m going to have to say goodbye.”

angus shared the sentiment, frowning slightly, “i’ll come to boston again, okay?” he said, just as passionate about you as you were to him, “and if you give me your number i promise to call you.”

you nodded, sighing and watching the way your warm breath fogged up in the cold air. the city was so silent and you’d never been able to experience it quite like this, let alone with a boy you kissed. knowing that it was getting late, though, left you nervous. you had told your parents you wouldn’t be out long and would go to your sister's apartment downtown for a ride back home—leave it up to a boy like angus tully to make it fun to break the rules.

“when do you go back to barton?” you asked him quietly like you didn’t want to hear the answer.

“the day after tomorrow,” angus murmured, his thumb stroking along the skin over your cheek, “i’m gonna’ try visit my dad tomorrow,” he said, “that’s the whole reason i convinced mr. hunham to bring me here, he doesn’t even know.”

you widened your eyes in surprise, “do you think he’ll let you go?”

“probably not, but i’ll find a way.” he said, but not quite fully convinced.

“it’ll work out, angus,” you said, a shiver running up his spine as you said his name, “just like you and me. i’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

he was glad that you managed to see the bright side in all of this, as the night was coming to an end he was beginning to let his negative thoughts pull through. already he could tell that you were going to be a big part of his life, even if it ended up being fleeting and short.

“come on,” angus breathed out, removing his hand from your cheek and standing up. he offered his hand for you to take.

“where are we going?” you asked him, blinking a few times as you took his hand, no mittens or gloves in the way as his fingers interlaced with yours.

“nowhere in particular,” he said, keeping you close as you walked through the quiet boston streets in the early morning hours and spending the last bit of freedom together that you two could muster.

when all was said and done, you found yourself exhausted as you curled up in your bed with the first bit of sunrise spilling through your curtains. it was a bittersweet end to your night with angus, leaving you uncertain about what the future would hold. all you knew was that you’d be waiting for that phone call he promised you.

and taking down your poster of david cassidy.

[pinkdaiisies]

these porn ads really make my daily tumblr scrolls difficult & traumatizing asf

[pinkdaiisies]

i saw ur message abt angus tully requests and🙈🙈 if u feel like it i would love to read a first kiss fic, but honestly i'd read anything !!!!

as you requested... :) word count: 1k

When you first met Angus, you didn’t consider him as someone you could fall for. He was a little short-tempered, a little too sarcastic for your tastes, but he was smart— even though you didn’t go to the same school, he still came into town on Wednesday afternoons and met you at the library to tutor you in biology. Even though Angus could definitely be hard to deal with sometimes, he helped you get the grades that you needed, and you were endlessly appreciative of him. 

Your biology midterm was next week, and you and Angus should have by all means been studying, but you weren’t. You were listening to him talk about his school, the prestigious Barton Academy, and how the all-boys school wasn’t exactly conducive to finding a date. “Not that I even wanna go to winter formal,” Angus said, twirling his pencil in his fingers. “But my mom and stepdad say I should.” 

“Who’re you taking?” you asked. Your school also had a dance at the end of the semester, but you guys weren’t fancy enough to call it a “formal”. You were also in need of a date, and had briefly considered just going by yourself; you were better off on your own, anyway. 

Angus shrugged. “Not a lot of girls for me to ask,” he said. “Not that any girl would wanna go out with me anyway.” 

“Oh, whatever,” you scoffed, gently erasing your work on your paper and rewriting the answer. “You’ve gotta have girls swooning all over you.” 

Angus barked out a laugh. “You flatter me,” he grumbled. “You think girls give me the time of day? That’s really funny.” 

You lifted your eyes from your paper up to Angus’s face, and you scrunched your eyebrows. “I mean, why not?” you asked. “You kinda have that Bob Dylan thing going on; if you went to my school, you would be everybody’s favorite.” 

“Mm, but I don’t go to your school,” Angus hummed. “The guys at Barton think I’m just a pest.” 

“Well, I don’t think that,” you offered lightly. “I think you’re pretty cool.” 

“Thanks,” Angus said softly. “I think you’re… Ahem, pretty cool too.” His cheeks went red as he cleared his throat, and his eyes flicked down to your textbook to break eye contact. Suddenly, he was quiet, his face burning; you had never seen Angus be shy before. 

“Angus?” you said. He said nothing, his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip, and you reached out to him, letting your fingertips brush his chin, lifting his face to look at you. You tilted your head as you watched him squirm, but he made no effort to move your hand from his face or try to move you away. “You know what I mean… When I said you’re pretty cool, right?” 

Angus took a breath, and he nodded quietly. “I meant the same thing,” he admitted. “Only, I… I’ve never had a girlfriend before. I don’t know how to do this.” 

Your hand dropped from his face, and you took up his hand from the table, twining your fingers together with his. His skin was soft and cold, and his grip was immediate and strong. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” you told him. “A real boyfriend, at least.” 

“What’s a real boyfriend?” Angus asked, leaning forward in his seat to get closer to you. 

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “I mean, like… I’ve never had a guy get all shy around me or anything. Act like he really likes me, and isn’t just dating me to cheat off of me in history class.” 

Angus chuckled breathlessly. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that with me,” he said, and you smiled. “Umm… Can I… Kiss you? I’ve kinda wanted to ever since I met you…” 

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” you asked. 

“Have you?” Angus asked quickly. 

“I asked you first,” you smiled, and Angus huffed as he chuckled. 

“Um, no,” Angus coughed. “I’ve always gone to all-boys schools… Last time I had a girl I talked to regularly, I was in preschool. And that doesn’t really count, I think.” 

“Probably not,” you agreed. “I’ve kissed one other guy before. It was the boyfriend who would cheat off of me, and he kissed me sometimes, but… Never anything else.” 

“Okay, so you’re marginally more experienced than I am,” Angus said and jokingly rolled his eyes. “You can’t get mad at me if I’m a bad kisser.”

“I would never,” you told him. You both hesitated for a moment, trying to read each other’s minds, and, before you could speak first, Angus cupped your cheek with his soft palm and leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. You didn’t hesitate to lean into his kiss, reaching out and wrapping your fingers around his thin wrist, and he sank into you, letting himself relax. 

You finally broke the kiss with a big smile, and Angus chuckled, and you shifted away quickly when your teeth clacked together. “Was that good?” Angus asked, nervously pressing his lips into a thin line as his eyes stayed locked on yours. “Why’re you laughing, was it that bad?” 

“No, sweetheart, I’m not laughing at you,” you chuckled, shaking your head. You watched his cheeks go pink again at the pet name, and you said, “I’m just… Happy.” 

“Good,” Angus said. His hand reached for yours, pressing his fingers between yours, and he said, “Right... What were we talking about?”

“Well, we were talking about, like, biology and stuff, for my exam next week,” you said. “But then we started talking about your winter formal and my school dance, and how we didn’t have dates.” 

“Oh, right,” Angus said. “Umm… I-I guess, maybe, if you want, I could go with you to your dance.” 

“As my date?” you asked, and Angus nodded. “I think I’d like that a lot. And maybe I can be your date to the winter formal?” 

“As long as you can deal with the stuck-up pricks at my school,” Angus grumbled, and you grinned, leaning in and kissing Angus’s cheek. 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” 

[pinkdaiisies]

People who said the Saltburn bathtub scene was traumatizing never stepped foot on this app, wattpad, or ao3 🤷‍♀️

[pinkdaiisies]

thinking thoughts

[pinkdaiisies]

Set my Heart on Fire - E.M

pairing: rockstar!eddie x f!singer!reader

warnings: none! this is cute strangers to friends to lovers fluff.

an: I blame all the rockstar!eddie things I’ve seen on my dash lately for this. Strangers to friends to lovers goodness with Rockstar!Eddie for all of you. I hope this makes you as fuzzy and happy as it made me! Let me know if you enjoyed this! And yes, I wrote a song for this.

—-

“Sorry I’m late boys.” Hank, Eddie’s producer apologizes as he wants into Corroded Coffin’s studio in H&F Records. “Just signed in someone new working with Frank, and ran a bit late .”

Frank is Hank’s brother and everyone teases them both for their names. Our parents weren’t creative, shut up. Is what Hank always says when Gareth, Eddie’s band mate teases him about it. Eddie gets up from the couch and pats Hank’s back as he passes by.

“Who’s the newbie?” Eddie asks, leaning against the wall opposite Hank.

“Not a newbie, she just switched labels.” Hank puts his phone down and begins to mess with the computer in front of him. “You wouldn’t know her; Y/N.”

Eddie’s bandmates agree, “Yeah never heard of her.”

“She’s a big star then? If she’s not a newbie.” Eddie asks, not knowing where his interest is coming from.

Hank tilts his head for a moment. “Medium sized following and streams but rising in the charts.”

With a noncommittal hum, Eddie shrugs and walks into the recording booth pretending he’s not repeating your name in his mind. He gets through the rest of the day and finishes recording a song for his upcoming album before heading home. Back in his apartment he orders takeout, takes a shower and gets his order at the door. Eddie opens his food on the coffee table and settles on the couch, laptop propped up in from of him. He types your name on Spotify and finds your profile quickly. The streaming info is impressive, and your picture is beautiful. Scrolling down to your top 5 most popular songs, Eddie clicks on the first one, it’s from your first album according to the details and he turns up the volume to listen as he chews his food.

This song, Loud Mind, is very different from his. It’s melancholic but has a great rhythm, not to mention your voice is like velvet to his ears. He plays the next one on the album, and the next one after that,  and realizes that most of them are sad — your vocals astonishing though. Others are romantic though, tinted with a type of yearning that makes Eddie frown. It’s like the love you sing about is the one you want and haven’t found. They’re both hopeful and resigned and Eddie isn’t ashamed to admit he tears up once or twice. There’s one EP though, Troubles and Throes, where your usual pop and soft songs change. It’s only 3 songs but Eddie decides they're his favourite three songs of yours, easy. The electric guitar and drums shine, the characteristic sadness in your songs is there but you’re also angry, vengeful, villainous. There is so much raw emotion in the high notes that Eddie tears up again, and wonders what made you feel that way. He plays the 3 songs again, then looks for your instagram only to find you already follow him.

----

You run into your crush at 10am in the morning. Completely unprepared to see the man now standing in front of you. Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin, and one of the biggest rockstars in the industry gets out of his studio at the same time you’re heading towards yours, which seems to be the one right across from his. You’ve been working at H&F Records for a month and though you knew Eddie worked here too, you’ve never ran into him. Until today.

“Hi.” Eddie Munson smiles, all charm and sweetness contrasting against the all-black outfit he’s got on. “Our newest recruit! Nice meeting you. I’m Eddie.”  He introduces himself as if you haven’t harboured the biggest most embarrassing crush on him for three years; from the moment you saw him perform on your tv.

“Thank you, you too.” Your smile in return, feeling shy as you give him your name. Then because you’ve always wanted to tell him you say:

“I really like Mad about you.” It’s a song from his second most recent album, with such lovely romance metaphors that it got you grinning the moment it began playing. Of course, you like the one love song he’s written, it’s just like you. “It’s one of my favourites.”

“That’s my least metal song.” He smiles, like he’s sharing a secret with you but also reading your mind. Then he says with the same secretive smile. “I like Throes.”

You know he means Troubles and Throes your 3-song EP from last year, it’s not surprise to you he likes them.

“My most metal songs,” You use his own expression as you tilt your head and chuckle, both embarrassed and thrilled that he’s heard your music. “Thank you.”

“You got some crazy lungs on you, you know. It really shined with those 3 songs.” Eddie continues his praise, his eyes lighting up with every word and making your mouth go dry. “You broke my heart though.” He feigns pain and rubs his chest in an act of theatrics, it brings forth a laugh out of you —embarrassment forgotten.

“It’s a common complain,” You shrug remembering the dramatic yet lovely comments you received when you put the EP out and looking away from his exploring eyes. Why does it feel like Eddie could read you like a book if given the chance?

“Bad breakup?” He asks, guessing the reason for the album but not coming close. “Been there.”

 “No, but something else along those lines.” You shake your head. You don’t tell him, about the bad friends; people you thought loved you playing with your feelings. It was a moment in your life when you reached a breaking point, cut everyone out of your life and instead of crying you wrote angry songs about it. It’s the most fun you ever had. “It was fun.”

“Well if you ever want to write something like that again, we can brainstorm ideas together.”

“Are you asking me to write a song with you, Eddie?” You ask him, smiling when his cheeks turn red.

You gotta give him credit for his confidence though, and how he bulldozes through his blush to grin excitedly. “It could be fun, buttercup.”

You tilt your head and smile. “Maybe you’re right.”

The conversation ends there though, because your producer Frank which happens to be Eddie’s producer’s brother opens the door to the studio. “Munson, I’m happy you met my client but we have an album to record.”

You smile at Eddie an shrug apologetically. “Sorry, he’s uptight.”

Both Eddie and your producer laugh. “Come on.” Says the latter.

“I’ll see you around, I guess.” You tell eddie, finding it hard to go back into the studio.

“Don’t guess,” Eddie smiles, charming and  disarming you. “It’s a fact, we work right across the hallway.”

“You’re right.” You nod, then take another step back. Your heart starts to pound on your chest then, and you know you need to get away from him to clear your head. Your mind goes over a thousand lyrics to describe him, a dark but beautiful starry night, a tall and strong statue bathed in moonlight, the melody of your favourite song pulling you in. He’s all-consuming like a very attractive 5’9 magnet pulling you in. “Bye.”

“Bye, buttercup.”

---

The next time you see Eddie is the next day during your lunch break, when he startles you on your way out of the studio. You take one step into he hallway and find him waiting for you next to the door. His sudden appearance makes you jump on your place and clutch at your chest.

“Hello.” Eddie grins, falling into step next to you.

“Hi, Eddie, thanks for the heart attack.”

Your sarcasm makes him smile brightly. “Always a pleasure.”  

You can’t help but laugh quietly, staring at your feet and trying to keep it together. This is the guy that was on a poster in your closet. No big deal.

“So,” Eddie starts. “Are you going to lunch?”

“Yup,” You smile, looking into his eyes, then hesitate. Would it be weird to invite him? You’re not friends, you met only a day ago. Would he find it weird? You want to get to know him though, should you ask him? It turns out you don’t have to worry about it because he speaks up.

“Me too, wanna come with?”

You smile knowing you were both thinking about the same thing. “Sure where are we going?”

“That’s a surprise but I think you’ll like it.” Eddie winks and opens the main door for you, leading you to the bright LA sun outside.

Your smile turns shy for a moment and you look away to get your composure back. “Let’s go then.”

The place Eddie mentioned ends up being a small family-owned restaurant with a cute rooftop terrace. It’s decorated with trimmed bushes roses in full bloom and wooden tables that have big umbrellas in the middle to fend off the California sun. The air is cool though, and it seems like Eddie picked the best day for an outdoor lunch. There are a couple of people in the tables near yours and you smile and nod in greeting as you pass by. The table you’re in has a booth on one side and chairs on the other.

Eddie motions towards the booth. “For you. Won’t take no for an answer.”

You smile and shake your head. “Alright. Thank you.” You set your small bag down on the table and sit on the booth, one leg folded underneath you.

“You look very pretty by the way.” Eddie comments, his eyes moving away from the way you sat down; there’s a small smile on his face. “What? It’s true.” He says when you look away.

You look down at your clothes for a moment, the wide leg light-washed jeans, your black converse, the flowy lilac blouse. You meet his eyes. “Stop being charming.” You laugh softly feeling your heartbeat loudly on your chest, you even worry he can hear it.

“Can’t do that.” He smiles proudly then the waiter arrives and sets the menus and ice water in front of you.

You check the menu as you speak, opting to shift the conversation away from you. “You come here often?”

Eddie hums, watching you instead of the menu. “Yeah, ever since I found it. It’s very secluded, not many people and not many paps.”

“It’s really nice.” You say looking around to take in the nice ambiance once more. “Anything you recommend?”

“The carbonara, if you like pasta.” He says.

“Pasta is a gift from the gods as is every other carb out there.” You smile at him before looking at other options. Your nervous stomach won’t let you eat a plate of pasta though, not with how Eddie’s eyes look at you, like he can read your every thought. “Is the pizza any good?”

Eddie’s excited nod is confirmation enough that it would be a good choice. “Their Parmesan fries are too. We can share, their portions are huge.”

You smile brightly at his thoughtfulness and close your menu. “Perfect then.”

Food ordered a moment later, you take a sip of water and meet Eddie’s gaze once more. He sits comfortably on his chair, legs spread. His white t-shirt clings to his chest and you swear you can see tattoos underneath. Do all his tattoos all meet in the middle of his chest?

“So,” Eddie starts, and you’re grateful he gives you a distraction from his handsomeness. “Why did you decide to become a singer?”

You bring your other leg up on the booth, sitting crisscross on the cushion. Your hands fall on your lap, and you have to mentally keep yourself from picking at your nail polish; you did you nails two days ago you can’t ruin them so soon. Your previous gratefulness for the distraction is long forgotten now –he’s put you in the spotlight. “Music is the perfect way to express what you feel.” You say, shrugging your shoulder to make your practiced answer sound casual.

Eddie grins and leans his elbows on the table. “That’s an interview answer, buttercup.” His eyes shine when you press your lips together, caught. “I’m no psychic, promise, it’s just easy to read your eyes; they give you away.”

 His tone is soft, not rude or condescending, he’s not bragging or trying to make you feel bad. In fact, he makes you laugh. “Ok, you’re right.” You say between chuckles. “I… started playing guitar when I was 15, then I started hearing music whenever I wrote in my journal. It wasn’t long until I realized what I was writing rhymed, which is why I started to write songs. They were dumb and really bad, so I stopped for a while.”

“I bet they weren’t.” Eddie shrugs, certain without even reading the poorly written lyrics. Your stomach does an embarrassing flip.

You continue, “I always felt like I was very emotional and soon enough whenever I felt something really strong, the best way to get it out of my chest was to sing about it.”

Eddie hums, an unspoken question. Why were you so sad?

“I had no friends, felt misunderstood, and that’s how my first album was written.” Your hand reaches for the iced water in front of you, to have something to distract you from Eddie’s burning gaze.  “It wasn’t until a year later that my previous label decided to take me on so I could record it. Suddenly I had lots of friends.”

Your laugh is self deprecating and you find you have to swallow a lump in your throat. “You heard my EP, you can guess the rest.” The betrayals; the way you let yourself be taken advantage off by your ‘friends’, mistaking their selfish interest with kindness and friendship; the rumours they started about you when you called out their behaviour and set boundaries. You wipe a tear that escapes your waterline and take a deep breath. Enough of that, it’s in the past.

Eddie sighs, and extends one hand towards you. You should hesitate, should put some distance between you and this electric boy that makes your heart sing on day two of knowing him. Liar, you’ve liked him longer than that. “I’m sorry buttercup, if I’d known you then… well I would’ve fucked them up for you.”

You shake your head and startle yourself with the belly laugh that leaves you. “No need but thank you. Now you see why I need a rehearsed answer though.”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.” He nods, and squeezes your hand, sending warmth straight to your almost healed heart.

“Don’t be” You smile, letting go of his hand and leaning back on the booth. “I chose to tell you. You also wear your heart on your sleeve, you know? It’s easy to trust you.”

The waiter returns with a big plate of parmesan fries and what you think it’s an extra-large alla diavola pizza: chilli peppers, pepperoni, mozzarella and basil looking mouth-wateringly homemade. Your stomach begs you to eat and you smile in embarrassment. Eddie chuckles in front of you and motions towards the food, as if saying: let’s dig in, then.

“So.” Eddie, starts. Half the things he says starts with so…, it endears you beyond words. Each of you have had two slices of pizza already, and you reach for some fries before settling back on the booth. Eddie mirrors your posture, leaning back on his chair and throwing his arm around the chair next to him. You take your eyes away from his bicep. “I wasn’t bluffing you know.”

You smile, guessing easily what he’s talking about. He strikes you as a persistent guy, and right now he’s being persistent about writing together. “About the song? Did you bring me to lunch to convince me, Eddie?”

There’s no malice behind your words, just teasing –you can tell Eddie is not like that, you’ve dealt with enough selfish people to know Eddie isn’t one of them. “Of course not buttercup.” He shouldn’t call you that, he really shouldn’t, your crush is bad as it is. “Just wanted to let you know I wasn’t joking yesterday. You’re the first person I’ve wanted to collab with.”

Your heart jumps with excitement while also giving a pang of curiosity. “Why?”

“Why?” Eddie sounds in disbelief of your question.

“Why do you want to collab with me. I mean, we’re different genres.” You grab another handful of fries and settle back again, waving a fry around. “You’re all upbeat-jumping-in-place music, I’m let’s cry for three songs straight, then sing two love songs as a chaser, and sing four other sad songs.”

Eddie says your name with emphasis, like he can’t believe what you’re saying –yes, you’re reducing your songs to their emotions and nothing more, but your mind can’t compute why the man sitting in front of you is desperate to write a song with you. “I’m going to be completely honest with you right now, okay?” When you nod, he smiles brightly and continues. “The day I heard you were joining the label I went home and searched your name on spotify, listened to one song and immediately listened to all of your discography.”

You chuckle, embarrassed, and look away. “You say discography as if it’s a lot.”

“Quality over quantity, beautiful. Always.” He grins, then continues, completely unaware of the way your nerve endings light up with each endearment he throws around. “I’ve never heard music with such heart, ever, not since those old-school love songs like the ones Sinatra used to sing. Yours, well, they’re pretty fucking amazing.”

“Eddie…” His eyes glint with honesty, it’s unbearable.

“No, I mean it. You made me cry so much, buttercup. No song has ever done that, not until yours.” He shakes his head, “The fact that you went through something shitty, and it resulted in that beauty of an album… I knew right then I wanted to write a song with you, desperately.”

You chuckle, feeling your whole body burn from his compliments. He sounds so genuine, so in awe, you feel fizzy inside, like a can of soda shaken too hard. “Desperately huh?”

“Would’ve asked you sooner but you were hiding from me, flying under the radar.” Eddie nods with enthusiasm, then tilts his head looking at you.

His words startle a laugh out of you, “Hiding? You just gave more evidence for my previous point. You never knew about me cause I’m a different genre.”

“I don’t believe that.” He shakes his head. “Maybe it was a case of wrong place, wrong time, until destiny itself brought you across the hall from me!” His voice rises as does his dramatics; Eddie throws his arms up when brings them down in front of his face, pressing his palms together.

“Please, it’ll be fun.” He gives you his best puppy eyes then juts out his bottom lip for good measure, and you’re a goner. His brown eyes, bright and big and full of genuine want won’t let you say no. This also means you’re in trouble of exacerbating your feelings for him the more you’re in his company. “Besides, if we make something incredible it can be the bonus track for our albums.”

You pretend to think about it before you give him a smile, a bright one just like his. It’s been a while since you’ve created something more rock inclined, and you’re excited to do it with Eddie Munson of all people. The rockstar that intimidates with his leather jackets, guitar and tattoos, but in reality, is a sweet dork –and hotter than the pictures. You’re thrilled, but another pang of nerves makes your chest hurt –you can’t fall for him, ever, this new friendship is too shiny and precious to you already. You won’t sacrifice it for something more. “Ok, Munson. Let’s write a song.”

Eddie takes your hand and squeezes it in excitement, “It’ll be so metal, buttercup, just you wait.”

Another laugh breaks free from you as you nod. “Maybe you’re right. But let’s start next week, Frank is kicking my butt to finish the song we’re working on.”

“You got it, beautiful.” He nods, holding both his hands in front of his lips and drumming his fingers together. “We can spare one hour every day, what do you think?”

“Sounds perfect.” You move to grab another slice of pizza but Eddie beats you to it, cutting it and placing it on your plate. “Thank you, now please put me out of my misery and talk about yourself.”

Eddie’s belly laugh is loud enough for people to look your way, but you don’t mind. “What do you want to know, buttercup?”

----

It ends up taking the two of you three weeks to start working on the song, because as it turns out Eddie Munson is a massive procrastinator. He always finds something that ends up distracting you from the matter at hand, and the allotted hour in your day for song writing slips between your fingers as your producers call you back to work on each of your upcoming albums. In those three weeks you’ve met Eddie’s band –very intimidating guys, but nice enough to be cool with the idea of a collab– driven to the beach just for a specific blackberry lemonade Eddie insisted you must try, and surprised Eddie with the fact that your parents moved away from Hawkins, Indiana (his hometown) just before you were born. That promise you made though, to not fall for him, gets harder to keep every day you spend with him. You’ve never felt so comfortable around someone before, and it terrifies you. Which is why you realize, three weeks in, that you were also procrastinating on the song because the song you want to write is about him. Eddie Munson, your crush for years before you met him, the one you miss when you leave the studio, and the one you want to kiss silly every time he’s a massive dork. You signed up for this though, so you cross your fingers and hope Eddie doesn’t think much about the couple of lyrics you’ve written.

“No distractions today.” You point a finger at him, the moment Eddie enters your studio. “I swear Munson, if we don’t start working on this we never will.”

“Hello to you too.” He grins, sitting on the floor in front of you, his own guitar in hand. You smile and look down at yours, shaking your head to stop your heart from beating too loudly. This is it. “I promise; no distractions.”

“Good. I…uh, have an idea.” You distract yourself from his burning gaze by tuning your guitar. “I’m not saying it’ll be good, just–”

Eddie’s voice makes you look up at him. “Don’t doubt yourself, let’s hear it.”

You stare into his eyes a second to long before you begin playing the chords you’ve practiced home alone these past weeks. It’s a soft intro that progresses into a more upbeat tempo 10 seconds in; you’d imagined Eddie’s electric guitar and his band’s drums joining during the chorus.

“It’s a bit of a long intro.” You chuckle self-consciously and shrug before closing your eyes. Here goes nothing. “Don’t laugh.”

Breathe in breathe out, close my eyes and

Keep from running cause my heart’s beating louder

I wonder if it’s obvious that I feel this way, oh

I’ve got the record of late nights spent crying

A patched up heart that begs me to try again

Wishing to jump right to your arms and be alright

To call you mine

You open your eyes and risk a look at Eddie, is this the part where he discovers the lyrics are about him? Did you just make things weird for both of you? “It’s just an idea, I was thinking you could join the vocals in the chorus and with some electric guitar it can be–”

“Can you sing it again?” Eddie asks, giving you a tender smile, you don’t know what to do with. His eyes are sparkling and won’t leave yours, not until you look away first and clear your throat. He doesn’t know. That’s good right? “Please?”

You smile despite your nerves and nod. “Alright. These are the notes if you want to mess with them.” You play them for him and start the song from the beginning when he nods.

The two of you continue like that for the rest of the hour, Eddie writing down suggestions, and recording a short demo of where the drums, electric guitar and bass would enrich the intro. By the third time you sing your verse, this time recorded in Eddie’s voice memos app, your nerves are gone –though a small disappointment settles in your stomach. He didn’t notice it was about him. It should be thrilling but it’s not, and you realize then maybe you wanted him to notice. Regardless of your feelings, you’ve made small but meaningful progress and Eddie promises to write his own verse by the next day before the two of you tackle the chorus and bridge. Not to mention there’s no written music for either of those. Suddenly, it seems like there’s a mountain of work still to be done.

---

Eddie’s hands are sweaty by the time he reaches your studio’s door. Having been too busy during the day to spare one hour for song writing, the two of you had agreed to stay after 5pm to make up for it. He’s not sure what makes him nervous, being alone with you, or the fact that there’s no one else in the studio to knock on the door and cut your time short. He supposes it’s both and realizes he can’t remember the last time he felt that way. The thrill and excitement of seeing someone –you. It starts every day, from the moment he steps one foot into the building and bubbles over when the two of you cross paths. When he listens to your voice in the recording you made yesterday.

“Come in!” You say from inside the studio when Eddie knocks on the door and opens it soon after.

You’re lying on one of the sofas, socked feet dangling from one end as you hold up your phone in front of your face. You giggle once at your phone screen, and Eddie knows he just caught you mindlessly scrolling tiktok again. It makes him smile as he closes the door behind him. His hands get sweaty again.

“Hi.” You grin, putting your phone away and shifting your attention towards him. “Good day?”

Eddie smiles, shoving the bubbly feeling in his stomach down so you won’t notice it. It’s no use, his brain sees you and immediately conjures the memory of the verse you’d sang yesterday. Wishing to jump right to your arms and be alright. Surely, it’s not about him but his fingers itch when he thinks about it, which is several times a day. “Great day, buttercup. Yours?”

You hum and shrug, “I guess it was alright. It’s better now, though.” Your words and tone are so sweet he shakes his head and scratches his chin making you laugh softly again. “What?”

“Nothing.” He reassures you, sitting on the floor and in front of you. It’s a big mistake, he’s eyelevel with you now, too close to be calm –probably close enough that you can hear his heartbeat. Shit, you’re gorgeous and your hair looks tantalizingly soft. The shirt you’re wearing has ridden up as you lie on the sofa, exposing a bit of midriff that has Eddie clearing his throat. He could write ten songs about you and how hypnotizing you are right now, easy. “You excited to work on our #1 hit?”

Eddie shifts his tone to exaggerated optimism only to cover how wrecked he feels just looking at you. “Wrote my verse last night and brainstormed some of the music for the chorus.”

Your eyes light up and you nod encouragingly. “Let’s hear it. No, wait a second let me get my guitar.” A moment later you’re up on your feet and padding over to the recording booth where you’ve left it behind. “Ok, now I’m ready.”

“From the top?” Eddie asks, making sure his guitar is tuned and gazing at you through his lashes. “Or do you want to hear the chorus first?”

You think about it, weighing the two options before letting your curiosity win. “Chorus.”

You listen intently as Eddie plays some chords, a small crease between your eyebrows as you focus. He can see the moment you don’t like a particular part and immediately asks for your suggestion, biting back a smile at your embarrassment. The two of you go back and forth playing your respective guitars and trying to come up with something will sound just right but can’t. Not yet anyway.

“I think it’s missing everything else.” You sigh, slouching back on the sofa and closing your eyes. Defeated. “Drums, especially.”

Eddie nods even though he knows you can’t see him. “We’ll figure it out. Some days aren’t as creative as others.”

“I think it’s my fault.” You tell him, crossing your legs underneath you. “I’m out of my element.”

That startles a laugh out of Eddie. “Of course not, beautiful.” The endearment escapes him before he has time to stop himself. “If you think that, then it’s my fault too.”

Your lips twist to the side in a frown. “It’s not your fault.”

Eddie leans forward towards you and winks, hoping to put you at ease. There’s always a bit of self-consciousness tied to what you say, and what you think; Eddie wonders where it comes from. “Then it’s not yours either, case closed. Please don’t doubt yourself, it’ll mess with your ideas.”

You nod more to yourself than him and sigh. “You’re right. I just… there’s been times when I’ve had to be my own cheerleader you know, and that’s exhausting. Besides, I never know if what I’m doing is any good or if I’m convincing myself that it is?”

Eddie sets his guitar aside and moves to sit next to you. “You know what I think? I think you’re one of the most talented people I know. You’re not convincing yourself you’re good, you actually are buttercup.” He glances to his left and meets your eyes. “Has someone ever told you otherwise? One of those dumb friends you told me about?”

“A couple.” You shrug. “Fuck them for making me doubt myself even after all this time.”

Eddie beams, it’s the first time he’s heard you swear and his stomach flips. “I share the sentiment. Tell me who they are, and I’ll write a hate song about them.”

“That’s sweet of you.” You lean your face towards your shoulder and grin at him, “But, one I already did that, it’s in a journal somewhere; and two, I know you’re stalling.”

Eddie feels his cheeks burn and he bites the inside of his cheek as he nods. “Partly, but I mean it, your enemies are mine now just so you know.”

You look away, biting back a smile, Eddie can tell. “Thank you, Eddie.”

He heaves a big sigh, gathering courage as he stands and picks his guitar again. “Alright, babe, you win. Just don’t laugh.”

“I’d never laugh.” You shake your head. “Unless you tell me a joke.”

Eddie chuckles and takes a deep breath, “From the top?”

The two of you start playing again, butchering the chorus with not-quite-there-yet chords and hums. Your laugh makes Eddie smile and eases his nerves as he closes his eyes to concentrate.

I’ve been burned before, knocked down to my knees.

Your soul’s a contrast to those that have hurt me.

A ray of light to guide me through a darkened maze.

I want you near me just as soon as I’m gone,

I pace my room wondering if I should call.

It’s like you’ve tied my heart to yours but

That’s more than fine.

Eddie clears his throat and speaks, avoiding your eyes. “I was thinking that we’d repeat that last part together, for a high note.”

“Eddie.” You say gently and Eddie finally dares to look at you. You’re smiling softly at him and tilting your head. “I really liked that, why are you embarrassed?”

He can only shrug and it makes you chuckle. “You’ve rubbed off on me, buttercup, now I’m writing poetry.”

“It’s wonderful.” You reassure him, a hand to your heart and Eddie has to stop himself from feeling so much. “As the designated sad and sappy friend, I approve the angst.”

That makes him laugh, if only you knew how angsty he actually is. The lyrics, of course, are about you but you’re none the wiser to it. Bad breakups plague Eddie’s past, full of people who took, and left as soon as they got what they needed. People looking for flings and not something serious, all because he’s a “rockstar”. Now here you are, someone that gives so much, your heart, your smiles, your time, and Eddie is terrified with how intensely he feels. He knows he should forget all about this, ignore his feelings because surely, you’d never feel the same way. But he can’t.

“As for the high note I agree, it would be a good way to start the chorus again.” You smile brightly at him, almost vibrating with your excitement. “Let’s try it again.”

“You got it.”

“Oh I almost forgot,” You say, leaning your forearms on top of your guitar as you look at him. “I’m have a small concert for Spotify next week, if you wanted to come. It’s a private sort of thing.”

“To record live versions of your songs?” Eddie asks, sitting up straighter as his interest is spiked. He won’t tell you he’s watched some of your performances already and has been dying to see you perform live. He smiles and tries to tone down his excitement. “Yeah that sounds fun.”

—-

You arrive to the venue in a black car with tinted windows that parks next to the back entrance. It’s a small indie coffee shop that’s known for their live entertainment in the evenings. You’d proposed to make a surprise concert for a certain number of fans when they offered your manager a chance to record live versions of your songs; everyone in attendance thinks they’re only getting a tote bag full of merch and free coffee. Little do they know the TBC live entertainment of the night is you. Though, some of them might know, they’re so smart you can’t surprise them anymore. Wait until you hear the song I’m working on, you think, with Eddie Munson. That’s going to be a surprise. You hardly believe it yourself sometimes.

Once inside and backstage, you make your way to the closed curtains in front of the stage and peek at the event happening on the other side. There are close to 50 people, mostly girls in their early to late-twenties, mingling and talking excitedly about the merch in their bags. Others are sitting down and drinking coffee as they engage in casual conversation. You smile widely as your chest fills with love and gratitude, 15-year-old you would never believe you if you told her about this. Footsteps behind you make you turn around and come face to face with Eddie, who looks like he just arrived.

A breathy laugh leaves you when you see he’s wearing a black t-shirt with a pink print of your album on it. Your merch, Eddie is wearing your Trouble’s and Throes t-shirt. It’s clearly a size too small and it shows off his chest and waist; it makes your heart pound against your chest, demanding to throw itself at him. “Oh my god, where did you get that!” You say excitedly, stepping into his arms in greeting.

Your eyes close on their own accord and you inhale the smell of his soap and cologne. It’s clean and smoky and you like it more than you should. “A lovely fan of yours sells them on Etsy, picked it up this morning.” Eddie says proudly when you step back. “I have to rep my favourite album, by my favourite singer. She invited me to her concert you know.”

Your body lights up at his praise and you look away, flustered. “Eddie.”

His smile takes over his face, lighting up his eyes before they soften. They take in the dark green top you wear, long sleeved on one side and sleeveless on the other, and the wide cream-colored pants you’re wearing. “You look beautiful, here give the camera a spin.”

Eddie is quick to pull his phone out of his pocket with his left hand and grab your hand with his right. What is this feeling that’s taking over your body? A heart attack? The unbearable urge to say: I think I’m falling for you, this isn’t a crush anymore. An urgency to step into his arms again without overthinking it? Regardless of the name, it runs through your whole body, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. So you indulge him, and spin, and laugh when he praises his photography skills.

“Don’t discredit the model.” You smile, caring less about the picture and more about the fact that he looks so happy it’s infectious.

“Never.” Eddie shakes his head before his eyes settle on a spot on your face. “Wait, buttercup you’ve got an eyelash on your cheek.”

“Oh.” You move your hand to brush it away, but Eddie stops you.

“Here, let me.” His voice goes quiet as he steps closer to you and his fingers are gentle when they hold your face still. Eddie’s thumb brushes the eyelash away, but instead of letting go or stepping back, he rubs your cheek. The touch soft and maddening at the same time and your lips part in surprise.

Time seems to sit still as Eddie’s eyes drop to them. You can see his own lips part, and the way his pupils dilate to eclipse the beautiful brown of his eyes. Will he kiss you? He looks like he might, and what would that mean? That he has feelings for you, that perhaps you’re not the only one putting your heart out in the song you’re writing. You lean just the tiniest bit closer, hoping and begging whoever is in charge of the universe to have this kiss. Eddie’s other hand falls to your waist and his touch feels like an open flame against your skin. It burns.

“Five minutes!” You hear over your shoulder and the two of you spring apart as if hit by lightning. Your shaking hands clench into fists, and you see Eddie swallow hard in front of you.  The two of you slowly stepping out the daze you were in. When your eyes meet again you can’t help the shyness that overcomes you –not even the 50 people outside can make you feel so nervous just the man in front of you.

“Thank you,” You say after clearing your throat, then point at your cheekbone. “For the eyelash.”

“Anytime,” Eddie nods, clearing his throat like you did and giving you a megawatt smile; it makes you giggle. It’s his coping mechanism, you know that now, which means he’s just as flustered as you. “I’ll see you out there. Good luck.” He leans in quickly and kisses your cheek before turning around and leaving the backstage area.

Now there’s another place where your skin is burning, and not caring how much of a fool you look like, you bring your fingertips to the ghost of his lips. The kiss would have made things awkward; you try to convince yourself. Yet the disappointed pit in your stomach vehemently disagrees. With another deep breath you take your guitar and go find your band until it’s moment to go onstage.

-----

Two days after the concert, you sit on your studio’s floor, phone in hand as you read Frank’s texts. I love the idea! Why didn’t you tell me sooner. We’ll make it a bonus track. I can see the numbers already. Of course, Frank wants many sales of the album with the bonus track, but… It feels too much like a business transaction. You don’t want to take advantage of people, especially after seeing your fans two days ago. The memory serves as a reminder of their love and loyalty. It isn’t fair to exploit that. You don’t want to. You can’t give the issue more though because the studio’s door opens then.

Eddie bounces into the room like the incredibly hot rockstar that he is and carrying a to-go tray with two iced coffees. His hair is frizzy from being out in the sun and he’s pushed a pair of black sunglasses on top of the dark curls. Several freckles have darkened on the bridge of his nose and his arms that are on full display thanks to the muscle t-shirt he’s wearing –you know, because you can’t catch a single break.

“One iced latte for the princess.” Eddie smiles and passes you the coffee with a smile, then flops down on the floor next to you with his own. “And iced americano for the peasant.”

“Eddie! What the hell, you’re not a peasant!” You laugh, chastising him with a shove to his shoulder. “I’m the peasant, I call dibs.”

Eddie laughs and flops back on the carpet that covers the floor. “Are you calling me a prince then, buttercup?” He raises his eyebrows teasingly.

You nod, sipping your coffee and placing it on the coffee table before you lie down next to him. “Yup, you should embrace it.”

Eddie shakes his head. “You’re…”

“Annoying I know.” You say solemnly then laugh at the look on Eddie’s face. “Kidding!”

Eddie rises to his forearms for a moment and takes another sip of coffee before lying down once more, this time facing you. He supports his head with his right hand, his bicep flexing as it holds up half his weight. He must know how handsome he looks, how you want to trace his tattoos with your fingers. If he does, then he’s torturing you right now.

“I talked to Hank,” He says with a smile, “He’s on board with us releasing the song in our albums.”

“Great,” You give him a small smile instead of the frown that threatens to appear on your face. You don’t want to be a buzzkill; you were dreading Hank siding with his brother. “Frank’s on board too.”

“But you’re not.” Eddie smiles, scooting closer to you. He can read you so well, nothing ever escapes him –except your feelings. “What’s wrong buttercup?”

You gravitate closer to him, mirroring the way he’s lying on his side. You let your frown show. “It’s just that…”

When you shake your head, Eddie tilts his head prompting you to continue. Knowing him he will insist until you do. “They make it seem like we’re only doing it for sales, you know? This bonus track thing. I know it was our original plan but this song’s become something else since then.”

“I see what you mean.” Eddie nods, looking at the rug under him, deep in thought. “It takes the excitement out of it.”

You grab his shoulder without thinking, your touch light.  “Exactly. I don’t want money or sales to come into this Eddie, but it seems like that’s what they want.”

“I don’t want that either, buttercup. But Frank and Hank won’t agree to an early release; they want the song in the album.” Eddie’s lips pull downwards in defeat as he takes another sip from his coffee.

With a deep sigh you lie on your back again and stare at the ceiling. Eddie is right, they won’t agree to an early release right now… “What if?” You start, turning back to Eddie, this time shifting close than before. “They have no choice but to release it?”

Eddie’s eyes light up as they look into yours, his mouth now smirking at the look on your face. “You have an idea?”

“Of course not.” You fake innocence which makes Eddie laugh. “I was just saying it would be a real shame if someone, accidentally posted something…”

“A real shame.” Eddie smiles, catching up immediately. “I can’t believe Jeff is gonna post a video to his social media where we’re singing in the background.”

You give him a fake frown this time, though is almost impossible as you hold back a smile. “And people will listen to some of the song.”

Eddie moves closer to you, his face only inches away. “They love it instantly.”

You grin, staring into his eyes and trying to keep your heartbeat steady. “Frank and Hank won’t have a choice but to answer to our fans… and release the song.”

Eddie’s voice is soft when he speaks again, warmth looking in his bright eyes. “Perfect plan, buttercup. Feel better now?”

The smile you give him in return hurts your cheeks as you nod. Your mind reminds you of the backstage incident when you were this close but didn’t kiss. You wanted it to happen back then, and really you want it to happen right now. Desperately. But you can’t, and he probably doesn’t want too either. “Lots better.” You whisper.

Eddie’s hand moves to your chin, and his thumb rubs softly at the skin. You feel your breath catch on your throat as you meet his eyes, they’re fixed on your lips and your stomach flips incessantly. “Hm?” Eddie’s eyes move to yours, out of whatever daze he was in.

“Lots better.” You say again, sitting up and grabbing your coffee to put some distance between you. You need to keep yourself from doing something stupid, like kissing him. “Let’s get to work. That chorus won’t write itself.”

—-

The rug underneath you will have the perfect copy of your shoe print as you pace back and forth on it. You’re waiting for Eddie, who’ll be arrive any time now. Today’s the day you would finish the song’s bridge. What Eddie doesn’t know, though,  is that you already wrote it. With the chorus done and a not-so-accidental teaser of it via Jeff’s story, Eddie’s and your song has become a priority for your producers, who hope to release it in a few weeks.

I know your love could be my one chance to make it all alright. That’s what Eddie wrote in the chorus right before turning into a deep shade of red when he shared it; all while you tried to convince yourself to not overthink it. It wasn’t about the two of you right? It couldn’t be, but the echo of Eddie’s voice only made you write a very honest bridge –revealing your secret wish to anyone who hears it. A wish concerning Eddie.

You shake your head trying to focus so you can be ready to work on the song. It needs to be finished today, considering the band will be rehearsing the complete song in the afternoon. Frank wants to see how it’s going to sound so you can begin recording and he can work his magic as soon as possible. 

Eddie brings you out of your own thoughts as enters the studio, all cool and charming as always, smiling in a way that makes your insides melt. “Buttercup.”

“I have the bridge.” You confess immediately, before you can chicken out. “If you want to heart it.”

Eddie gives you a greeting hug, holding you tightly to him before letting go. “Of course I want to. Let me set up my guitar, yeah?”

You take your own and throw the strap over your head to hold it in place before sitting down on the floor. Your fingers can’t help to fidget, and you’re sure you might throw up from nerves. This is one of your greatest acts of bravery, and it’s to give yourself a chance to be as unbelievably happy as you have been since you met Eddie. But this time without a deadline.

“Why are you so nervous?” Eddie asks you softly, sitting in front of you with his guitar resting on his hip. “Buttercup, it’s only me.”

You swallow hard and meet his eyes, nodding your head softly. “Just–”

“I won’t ever laugh at you.” Eddie reassures you, smiling in that fond way he does that has you looking away.

With a final nod you begin to play the last chords from the chorus to ease into the bridge. A deep breath later and:

Maybe it is time,

to take a chance for once.

What if it’s all alright,

what if you soothe this ache

I’ve had for so long.

What if it is time,

to set all doubts aside,

and make that jump,

to set both our hearts alight.

It’s out there in the open, an invitation, a question, an explicit expression of what you want. Don’t fall for him, you’d told yourself and your heart didn’t listen. But this is Eddie. Eddie you’ve known for two months, and you want to be with for all the months to come. Eddie with his sweet smiles and magnetic energy, the one who makes your blood feel like static under your skin the one who almost kissed you last week. Eddie who you’ve liked for so long. You press your shaking hands together and dare to look at him.

“I want you to jump in whenever you want, and the high note would be in the word alight.” You worry your bottom lip, looking over his shoulder and shrugging. “If we go for this bridge, of course. I mean, we can scrap it and come up with something else.”

Eddie grins and reaches out for you, his fingers taking a gentle hold of your chin and turning your face towards him. “I love it buttercup; you know I love everything you write.”

You shrug again, your eyes begging you to look away, but you can’t. His brown eyes are soft and sincere, and there’s a spark of mischief underneath it all as he smiles widely. “Wanna go over it together?”

Eddie’s nod is immediate, and he stands up before offering his hand. You take it and let yourself be hoisted up with a grateful smile. Your heart is pounding in your chest, climbing up your throat with how nervous you feel. Eddie hasn’t said anything, about the implication of your lyrics and how the song has shaped up to be a love song, towards each other no less. Does it mean he doesn’t see it the way you do, or maybe your feelings are taking over and you’re projecting them on the song.

But the other day, but the kiss, but his touch just now.

There’s also the spark in his eyes right now, as he sets up an amp and sneaks glances at you.

“Ready?” He asks you, standing in front of one microphone stand and you do the same next to him.

Your nod is followed by another question. “From the chorus?”

Eddie winks and begins to play. You close your eyes and send your worries away, settling instead in the present. The sound of Eddie’s guitar, the way his hands play it expertly and the smile he gives you when the two of you begin to sing. As always, your voices go perfectly together; it sends a thrill down to your stomach. Here you are, singing with your crush, who you never thought you’d meet and have fallen for with no chance of ever falling out of love. He's the one you want, all of him, and suddenly you’re not nervous about the bridge anymore. You are, overall, honest with your music and your heart wants him.

“Maybe it is time, to take a chance for once.” You sing softly, grinning when Eddie adds background vocals. A chance for once. Your eyes close as you continue, feeling the familiar pang of yearning in the pit of your stomach. “What if it’s all alright? What if you soothe this ache I’ve had for so long?”

The chords change to a higher note and your voice rises to match its pitch. “What if it is time, to set all doubts aside.” Eddie’s voice goes several notes higher to match your voice, repeating the last three words again. All doubts aside.

“And make that jump,” With a glance his way you nod in confirmation that you’re ready for the last part –he does too. It seems like a confirmation of something else, and it makes a smile take over your entire face. Is he saying he feels this too? “To set both our hearts… alight.”

Eddie smiles too, harmonizing with you as if reading your mind and creating a carbon copy of your idea. Your smiles don’t fade, not as you sing the chorus again, not as you sing the last verse softly; just how the song started, to come full circle. Your eyes have glazed over during the last seconds of the song, and you can’t help the happy sniffle that escapes you. It’s done, the song is done and more perfect than you could’ve dreamt of. And Eddie… Eddie is looking at you like you’re the moon and the stars in the sky.

You don’t want this to be the end. Just because the song is complete doesn’t mean you want this thing between you to be over.

“Eddie.” You say setting down your guitar and taking a step closer to him, your voice raw with emotion as you look into his eyes. They’re dark with want, and after noticing your own mirror them, he sets his guitar aside and closes the distance between you.

His hands cradle your face gently as his face leans close to yours, noses barely touching and breath mingling. His rings are cold against your skin but you don’t mind.

“Baby…” Is all he whispers before his lips crash into yours.

You don’t have the mind to feel embarrassed for the noise you make when you feel Eddie’s lips brush against yours. Despite the gentle hold on your face, his lips are urgent and needy as they kiss you, and you kiss him back just as ardently if not more. Throwing your arms around his neck and bringing your body against his, you part your lips for him; the sound that dies on Eddie’s throat might be your favorite in the world. You hear it again when you pull him closer to you and scrape your teeth against his bottom lip. You do what you’ve always wanted to do, bury your fingers in his hair and giggle when Eddie takes a hold of your thighs and picks you up. Your back touches the cushioned walls of the studio as Eddie’s lips leave open mouthed kisses along your jaw –you feel boneless in his hold and can only give him more access so he can kiss your neck.

“Fuck, baby.” Eddie’s breath is hot against your skin. When he leans his head back to look at you, your breath catches in your throat. He looks as wrecked, as happy, and as crazy about you as you are with him. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He says, then as if he can’t stay away from you leans in and pecks your lips softly.

You swallow hard and take Eddie’s face in your hands. “You’re not the only one.” You murmur, your bottom lips brushing both of his; you feel intoxicated by him, your every thought and breath full of him. “Here I was, thinking it was one-sided.”

Eddie’s hair bounces as he shakes his head, the tip of his nose brushing against the bridge of yours. It makes you shiver. “Not a chance, buttercup, you took a hold of me the moment I met you.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Impossible.” Eddie raises an eyebrow at you, a beautiful smirk on his pink kissed lips. “You didn’t even know me, Eddie.”

Eddie kisses you again and you sigh, pulling him closer by the hold you have on his face. “I did, beautiful. I listened to your songs, and they told me so much.”

You tilt your head to the side, “Like what?”

 “How much you feel; how big that heart of yours is.” Eddie’s eyes soften, his thumb gracing your bottom lip gently. “How much love you have to give, and how badly you want to be loved back, with the same intensity and no restraints.”

You look away slightly embarrassed at the way he’s been able to read you from the start. When you meet his eyes again, you grin involuntarily –he makes you so happy. “You got that from my songs?”

“Your love songs are metal, baby.” Eddie smiles widely, then leans in to kiss you deeply once again. His lips open you up to him, this time slower and softer than before; it makes your hands shake. “Let me live up to them.”

You pull away and look at him curiously. You heard him wrong right? “You mean…”

“That I love you.” Eddie holds your face with one of his hands and swallows hard when you lean into his touch. “I want to love you as much as I can. Set my heart on fire, buttercup.”

You nod your head, pressing your finger to Eddie’s lips to shush him when he moves to speak. “Only if you let me love you just as much, Munson.”

Eddie’s smile is answer enough, lighting up his entire face and bringing forth a new wave of butterflies in your stomach. You move in to kiss him again before there’s a loud knock on the door and make the two of you spring apart from the compromising position you’re in. Eddie sets you down, even fixes your hair before trying to stand as casually as he can in the middle of the studio. A moment later his band walks in and greet the two of you.

“Ready to start?” Jeff asks.

You glance to your right, at Eddie, with a secret smile. No one thinks twice about the mess you’ve made of his hair, but you know, and he knows, and it makes you happy beyond words. “What do you say, Eddie?”

“I say let’s record a top hit, buttercup.” With a wink your way he walks towards his electric guitar.

----

i hope you liked this! let me know, motivate an unmotivated writer 🥺

[pinkdaiisies]

Soul Of A Woman Was Created Below

pairing: Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're strong, seductive and intimidating and Warren finds that very, very, hot.

word count: 2.4k

Tags/Warnings: She/Her pronouns, use of Y/N, oc's (reader's bandmates), reader being an absolute badass tease, bassist reader, there is a mention of Eddie and Warren being -not- discreet and checking the reader out, spice no smut, Karen and Eddie teasing Warren, smoking, drinking, reader feels like a good lana del rey song but looks like a hot 'I am the woman' Led Zeppelin song (hence the tittle), a lot of swearing, deeply inspired by a you can be the boss lyric, mention of reader's outfit. I think that's about it

Warren Rojas (Drummer, The Six):

That woman. [sighs] They say women 'play' hard to get, she didn't play anything. Can't do a lot when you can't manage to get a word out when you see her. [chuckles]

Eddie Roundtree (Bassist, The Six):

Of course I remember her, I heard so much about her in the time span of 2 months I think she still haunts my dreams sometimes. Warren was head over heels for sure, I think he still is. [grins] I was the reason they got together in the first place.

***

KINGS OF DUST, the next big rock 'n' roll stars?

Her fingers brushed over the fresh ink of the tabloid, as she grimaced. She felt her her ears buzz listening to James mocking the paper's columnist with a shrieking voice.

"Are those newcomers, with the big attitude and a whole lot of talent to give, going to kick The Six off their throne? Does the good old McNasties band we all know and love feel threatened? Well Billy Dunne sure doesn't as he claims that he 'isn't scared of glam posers and cheap Zeppelin copies' and the sarcastic remarks reffering to him on James Madden's Rolling Stone interview did not help his rage at all. What bullshit! Little Mr. Lover Boy thinks he can just insult us like that just because his mellow, mediocre songs, that all sound the fucking same, hit some of the charts!"

"They aren't even anything special! Their name isn't original it's like the sex or something, very shallow, and they definitely are the posers of the situation, they do it for the fame and the chicks, we do it for the music!" James whined, dragging the 'u' in 'music' and throwing the paper on the couch.

"The Six" Y/N corrected her friend and drummer. She walked over to the leather jacket she wore in last night's gig, reaching in it's pocket for her cigarettes. "And they're pretty good, well their lead is an ass, for sure, but still pretty damn good." She added, lighting one of her cigarettes with her heavy, carved, zippo.

"Whatever! I don't like them!" The drummer exclaimed like a child.

"What's with the yelling? It's 9 a.m., you fuckers." Matt came in the kitchen, his words slurred as he was still hang over from last night's events.

He grabbed a handfull of cereal and stuffed his mouth, munching noisily on it while motioning to James so he can give him the paper. "What does he mean posers, he is the poser! That motherfucker!" He yelled gulping down his cereal.

"Who does he think he is? I mean just because he's got a couple of good singles he thinks he can screw our reputation up because he is scared!?" He now screamed full of fury. "Apparently so." Y/N answers his rhetorical question, with a sarcastic smile. "Where is Dave?" he asked, she shrugged, frowning. "Oh so you can't answer that one!" He runs off to the guitarist's room and James looks at the bassist with a look that screams 'I told you so'. Y/N rolls her eyes and she can hear the tempered singer bang on Dave's door.

They come back to the kitchen together, Dave picks up a mug and fills it up with some coffee as he sits down, scratches and marks visible around his neck and back. "What?" he asks, his tone revealing his annoyance. "That." James is quick to say pushing the newspaper towards him. "Who the fuck is 'Billy Dunne'? What do you want me to do?" He exclaims with his grainy morning voice. "Y/N are not saying anything about this shit?" He turns to the girl, hoping she would help with his friend's delusions. "Sorry." She said not really feeling bad that she couldn't do anything.

"Look man. We got a gig tonight and all of us in here, except for Muffin who's got weirdly a lot of energy for 9 a.m., have a hangover so just tell me what the fuck do you want me to do?"

Muffin was what they called James, he was the youngest of the four, the softest of the four and the only one that, as you can understand, was really energetic. He also seemed like he never stopped smiling. So, Muffin.

"You know what? fuck it. I don't want you to do anything I just thought you guys would care about the dignity of our band!" Matt stormed in his room, his door made a loud bang as he kicked it closed.

***

They were just finished with the gig, the guys were partying inside the dirty bar as Y/N was outside, trying to smoke. She reached in her pocket, searching for her zippo. She exclaimed a curse, disappointed. She thought she must have forgotten it at the kitchen counter this morning. Her eyes scanned around the street for someone who she could ask for a lighter from. Her gaze paused, falling on a curly haired man not too far away from her, smoking.

"Y' think you got a light for me?" She asked looking at him, smirking. "Oh, yeah sure." The man reached for his lighter, it wasn't as perfect as her good old zippo but it would do. He leaned in to the cigarette in her mouth and covered the flame with his palm. She was looking at him straight in the eye, smiling throughout the whole process. She could feel him leaving a shaky breath as he moved away from her. "Thanks pretty boy..." She took the cigarette out of her mouth, allowing the smoke to be visible through her mouth and nose. "Anything for a pretty girl..." He complimented her back. She turned her back to him, walking back in the bar and winking at him over her shoulder. He shook his head with a chuckle "Oh c'mon man..." he said quietly, putting off his own ciggarete. He also ran back inside the bar.

***

"I'm telling you man, out of this fucking world! She's got those huge sudective eyes and she knows how to bat her eyelashes just the way to scratch my brain in all the right places for sure, because if she asked me to jump off a cliff, I'd do it. And I mean, I didn't wanna make it sexual but dude if she screams sex-appeal.

I wanna see her smirk like that on top of me the next time I see her."

Warren describes the woman to Eddie who thinks his friend is just overreacting. "Alright then where is she?" He asks the drummer. "Huh?" He says, distracted looking for her around the bar. "Where is she? You said she came back in here."

Warren grabbed Eddie's arm, when he finally spotted her, extending his pointer finger and lining it towards the young woman's position. "There..." Warren whispers, thrilled to see her dreamy face again. His eyes fall to her attire, which wasn't visible before, as it was hidden behind her large leather jacket. Her denim butterfly top, tied around her neck and revealed her bare back. Her low waist bell-bottom jeans were wide towards her knees and tighter higher, towards her waist, giving Warren a great view of her thighs and the red stars on the back of her pants.

"Boys!" Two fingers snapped right in front of their faces. Eddie woke up from his haze to see Karen, her arms crossed like a disappointed mother. "Would you like a tissue?" The woman asked the only person who had his interest on her as Warren was still concentrating on the beautiful mystery woman before him with his mouth agape.

"What?" Eddie asked Karen. His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "To wipe the drool of your faces...f' God's sake." She sighed leaving the two men alone again.

Eddie hit Warren in the back of his head. "C'mon wake up." he said. "Huh? I'm awake." Warren moaned, scratching the back of his head in pain. "No. No. You were basically sleeping with your eyes open."

"She hypnotized you. She is a witch." he says, with so much confidence, one would expect he doesn't hear his own words. "What? No she's not you idiot." Warren disagrees as he laughs at his friend's assumption.

***

"Matt, Y/N! Darlings! Come with me! I've got someone for you to meet."

Their friend Steve said dragging them to the booth where the one and only Billy Dunne sitted with his brother and his keyboardist.

Y/N wasn't very happy about the whole situation. She had two irritable singers that had a problem with each other on the same table. The guitarist and the keyboardist whose names she learned were Karen and Graham had snuck off to do god knows what and she was left bored out of her mind while Billy and Matt talked business.

Until sooner or later she saw her saviour on a white horse, he was gonna save her of absolute, boredom. He was with this other guy too, but that's besides point. The curly haired man from earlier. He was approaching the table. It was her chance to have some fun, all she did all night was hold Matt down so he wouldn't kill Billy.

Y/N Y/L/N-Rojas (Bassist, 'Kings of Dust'):

I'm glad he made a move that day. It was a fun night... [laughs]

Warren:

Yeah, right. [scoffs]

If it weren't for Eddie I'd still be in the bathroom of that bar having a full on panic attack.

But she doesn't need to know that.

Y/N Y/L/N-Rojas:

Of course I knew...but I had fun with it. You don't have such man on his knees for you, holding his broken ego, every day. Well I did but you get what I mean.

And she just seated there. Her legs crossed, looking like a good action movie soundtrack. She made him go crazy and she knew it. She was enjoying it.

Eddie took the spot next to Matt on the booth before Warren could, leaving him sit on the other end, next to her. She let the smoke of her cigarette out, looking over at him with a smirk.

"Hey, lighter buddy." She said slowly, a smile growing on her face, he was staring at the way her lips moved softly the whole time, thinking how rough they could be on his, imagining the colour of her lipstick all over him.

"Hey...I see, you found a lighter though." He says, nervous, you'd think someone was pulling the words out of his throat forcefully. "Yeah.." She smiled.

"I was stupid, really, it was just on the table I was sitting before."

With four people on the small couch booth they were really physically close and that killed Warren. Smelling the smoke and liqour on her, he thought he'd die any second now. Somebody had to pinch him before he could get used to this dream.

Her heel stroked his leg under his wide pair of jeans and she really thought she heard him gulp. She suddenly got right off of him. Leaving him confused when she reached for her cigarettes on the table. "I think I'll get out of here." She said now grabbing a cigarette out of the mat, black, leather cigarette case. She extended it over to him and looked at him."I have cigs, thank you." he said looking between her and the item in her hand. She bends over to him. "Well you don't have this one. Do what you want with it, your choice." He could feel her breath on his neck as she spoke while she carefully placed the slim filter on his lips.

They where lightly parted as he admired her. She tapped on his cheek twice with the palm of her hand then grabbed her jacket and left as soon as the conversation between the two singers got heated.

Warren looked up, the cigarette still in his mouth as he whispered "Fuck." He took it in his hands, coming out of the daze she put him in, there was a number of it. He looked at the number on the white paper of the Malboro. He shook his head, putting the cig back on his lips and leaving the bar. He had to go home and call her.

Eddie watched him as he speeded out the door and chuckled.

Eddie: Especially after the band, Warren was a ladies man. Always flirty, always witty, so much you'd think it was just his regular attitude. He was never nervous around women before so it was really amusing getting to see the situation.

Warren sat on the balcony of the band's house in Canyon, rolling the cigarette around his hands, fidgeting.

Eventually he got inside the house getting the phone and balancing the receiver between his head and shoulder while he pressed the number in.

The buzzing sound of the phone filled his ears as he lighted the cigarette and took a puff of it. "Hello?" he heard her voice ring through the telephone. His eyes widened, not expecting her to pick up. He took the cigarette out his mouth as soon as he heard her.

"Uh, Hey! Hi. I'm Warren." He said squeezing his eyes shut once he realized she doesn't know his name because he never told her. "Oh, Warren. From the bar right? Dunne's drummer." She said and giggled.

He was shocked she knew his name. She managed to learn everything about him in a single night and they hardly even talked. "Yup, thats me. Uh, you gave me your number. So I just thought I'd-" He was interrupted by the woman. "You thought right...So, got any other plans for tonight?" She asked and he believed she was joking. She had to be. He thought. There is no way she fell for his stuttering and his anxious antics. "I... never got the chance to catch your name." He breathed out, waiting to hear it.

"Y/N. I play bass for Kings Of Dust."

***

Her outfit hadn't changed since the last time he saw her.

Her eyeliner smudged under her eyes and her vibrant lipstick was now slightly faded. It was admirable, how you could never catch her looking down, she'd walk in a place she hadn't ever been before like she owned it, her chin always high and she always looked around, not in amusement, more like she was taking the place in.

She saluted him and sitted in the barstool next to his.

The bar was quiet in comparison to the one they were before with all their friends.

His mind wandered having all the thoughts it shouldn't.

Billy would probably kill him but it's worth it.

Any feedback, is good feedback!! I wanna read your thoughts. Have a gorgeous day. Mwah!

-Shad

[pinkdaiisies]

It's you and Me

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

✧.* summary — headcanons of childhood friends to lovers with Warren Rojas.

✧.* warnings — none.

✧.* word count — 9.0k

✧.* 🥁 — warren's masterlist.

✧.* mandy's notes — I loved writing this so much, I hope you like it too.

✧.* 1 — how you met / childhood

Pittsburgh became home from the moment Warren Rojas walked into her life.

You were at your bedroom window playing with your toys when you saw the moving truck park in the house next to yours, curiosity makes your eyes shine as soon as you understand what was happening, you leave your belongings by the window and run as fast as you can down the stairs, you slide a little with the inertia that hits your body when you reach the floor below.

"Hey baby, didn't know you were up." Your mother's voice echoes from the room, you run feeling your body slide across the floor due to the socks on your feet. The emotion emanating from your body was clear.

"Did you see?" Your thin voice is an octave higher than usual, and your mother opens a smile trying to understand where that excitement was coming from.

"If I saw what, my love?" She puts her cup of tea on top of the coffee table, you make a sulky face because she doesn't understand you at first.

"The truck outside!" The word truck scrambles from your lips, and she can't help but crack a smile at it. "We have nay-buhs, mommy!"

"We do?" Curious, she takes her gaze to the window, thus noticing the movement in the house next to yours. "Seems like we do, uh? Wanna go say hi?"

As if that was the suggestion you've been looking forward to hearing the most, you jump excitedly around her, tugging on her hand, wanting to go there immediately. Your mom gets up happy to see you excited about the idea of meeting new people, she holds your small hands in hers as she guides you into the kitchen then pulls you into her lap.

You rest your little head on her chest seeking affection, she kisses the top of it with love.

"How about we make some snacks to take to them?" Your eyes sparkle, and you immediately nod excitedly. "Any idea what you want to cook, little bee?"

You cup her face in your small hands, breaking into an adorable smile. "Cookies and hot choco-wate."

"Alright… that's a great idea." She sits you on the counter, getting the ingredients you would use.

When the smell of freshly baked cookies fills your nostrils, you pull on your mother's apron to show that it was ready. She helps you arrange a tray carefully in the way you found most interesting, putting it in your hands as soon as you left the house to meet the neighbors.

The house next to yours was not very different in terms of the facade, it was very charming and full of plants just like yours, you liked it and it was certainly one of your favorite things about the outside. Your mother holds your little hands to help you up the stairs to the door and suddenly shyness takes over your body. You look at her looking for an indication of what to do.

"Nock the door mommy." You whisper, only now noticing how the word "knock" was difficult to pronounce.

Your mother laughs at your bossy attitude, knocking on the door for you. You stand on your tiptoes, excited to satisfy the curiosity you were feeling earlier, listening to the footsteps behind the door approach the wooden object.

The doorknob turns and a slender woman appears in your vision, excited you hold out the tray with an adorable smile. The curly woman seems taken by surprise, bending down to be at your height, she opens a smile.

"Oh, are those for me?" She questions her voice full of pride and gratitude. "Thank you so much little one, that's very kind of you."

She raises her gaze to your mother who watches the scene with pride and warmth in her chest. And you take this moment to curiously look inside the house, the place was still empty, some boxes scattered in various places with other objects too, and suddenly you notice someone of your stature who captures your attention.

You notice your mother talking to the lady but your attention is still on the boy drumming some pots with his hands inside the house, you lean on the doorknob wanting to get closer to him but you still keep watching him from afar.

"Warren honey, come say hi to our neighbors." The woman calls the little boy when she notices you staring at him wanting to talk.

When he approaches shyly, hiding behind his mother's leg, he looks at you with a small smile on his face. His eyes dart curiously to the tray you hold, secretly asking for one of them.

"Hi Wah-wen, you wan' some of our coo-kies?" You hand him the tray with an excited smile, "Me and my mom made it for you, I ate a cou-puh but jus' to make suwe they were vewy good"

He looks to his mother for encouragement, you notice that he looks a little confused and you hope you haven't done something wrong.

"She made you las galletas, you want some?" She asks the little one who nods his head, extending his hands towards the cookies, you look at him full of anticipation.

"Thank you…" He whispers, biting into the cookie as he looks at you. He looks back at his mother as if asking her to help him communicate.

"What's your name cutie?" The curly woman asks you, while your mother holds your hands

"Y/N." You say rocking back and forth, handing the tray to Warren when you were tired of holding it. "Do you, um, wanna play in my house? If you want, we c-can, um, make a big drum set together!"

He seems curious, your words seem difficult for him to understand but he gradually understands from your gestures and excitement that makes him want to join you.

"Can I?" he asks his mother, his curls falling over his eyes as he sloppily pushes them out of his sight.

"Is it okay?" She asks your mother.

She smiles in affirmation, "Of course, don't worry... If you need help, just call."

Warren's mother runs her hand through his curls, smoothing his locks. "Behave, huh… And if you want to come back, just ask and I'll pick you up."

You were Warren's first friend, he had moved from a non-English speaking country so it was difficult for him to fully understand his surroundings as a child. And that's when you guys developed your own style of communication, as Rojas learned English you guys increased your own type of communication that you used to create plans for games and different adventures out there, a way of passing notes to each other without getting caught by the adults.

Your mother had already put you to bed, the light from your table lamp was the only thing that illuminated your room as you settled between the sheets.

Your day hadn't been the best, you had gotten a bad grade and as a result your parents decided to forbid you to go out and play with any of your friends. So you spent the day in your room, bored reading books and playing on your own after studying.

You yawn ready to fall asleep but something jolts you out of your calm state, you sit up in bed, watching the window where the noise had come from with a frown. You can see your best friend's bedroom window lit up, indicating that he was awake, so you approach yours looking for that little face that causes you so much comfort.

You can see his little black face waving at you from his window, you open a smile and a questioning face, he gestures for you to open your window. You then do, feeling the night wind hit your skin waiting for him to do what he wanted.

"What is it?" You whisper loudly, he then throws a paper plane at you, you catch the object in the air and he tells you to open it.

∆•⬛ ∏∆⚡⬛ ⏩⬛⬜∆⏩, ∆•∏ ∆⬜∆ ⬛∆•⬜•⬜ ∏∆•∏∆ ∏∆⬜∆•⬜, ∆•⚡⬜ ∏∆⬛∆ ∆⬜⏫•⬜⬛⬜⚡⬛, ⏩⬜⬛ ∆⬜⏩⬜ ∆⬜⬜⬛ ∏∆•∏∆ ⬜⬛⏩∆.

“Don't worry about them, you are capable of anything you put effort to, and I'm proud of you”

You open a smile upon the message, taking the paper to your chest, hug it with affection, you blow a kiss to him who takes it in the air and does the same thing you did with the paper.

"Thank you." You feel emotional, perhaps the hormones from your newly arrived puberty are getting to you.

He winks at you with a smile you love, "Goodnight cutie." He speaks before closing the window, so you feel like you can sleep peacefully knowing he is proud of you.

Rojas treats you with great care and affection since childhood, always being very careful, hugging you, helping you with annoying situations, being his support for anything, just like you for him.

You were always very smart kids and the combination of both of you was pure chaos for your parents. Whenever you were very silent they already knew that something was broken, messed up or out of place, but nothing gave them the courage to take away the joy you felt from being together.

Rojas would never admit it but he loved watching you from afar at school or when you were concentrated with something, he found it adorable all the faces you made while you were paying attention in something

He would definitely listen to you complain about whatever you needed to vent while you defined his curls.

You always helped him rehearse the drums, suggesting songs for him to play and dancing like crazy around him while he did so.

You got a habit of kissing his forehead whenever he did something nice when you were little, and this habit continued when you guys grew up

You were in the kitchen of your house waiting for your mother. The goal was for you to make a cake for Warren's mother's birthday. Warren was trying to put on his apron, his small hands having some difficulty handling it.

"I can't! This ridiculous thing doesn't tighten." He crosses his arms sullenly.

You hold the cloth in your hands supporting it, "Oh Warren you can do it, here, let me help you."

You help him step by step, showing how to do the same processes you did to tie yours. He copies his movements slowly, as if it were something difficult to do, now and then sticking out his tongue to demonstrate his concentration.

When he finally succeeds you applaud him, a giant proud smile on your face. "Good job Warren! See? I knew you could do it."

You jump showing your excitement at his achievement. "Look mom, Warren managed to tie his apron all by himself!"

He smiles with embarrassment, but happy to see your joy with him, you approach him and kiss his forehead, grabbing him in a proud hug afterwards.

He feels a spark in his body from your little kiss, closing his eyes to feel your caress.

"Thank you." he whispers.

Once when you were younger Rojas asked you to marry him with a ringpop and a little flower.

You and Warren went to dances together since you were little, until you reached an older age where this type of thing meant something more serious in your teenage minds. Until Warren realized that he wanted to keep that tradition, but in a different way…

You two were sitting in the backyard of your house, you knew that soon Rojas would have to leave for rehearsal at Chuck's house, so you tried to enjoy every second by his side which was something you loved, being close to him was always synonymous with being at home, feeling complete.

You rested your head in his lap as he drummed his hands on your shoulders as usual, it was amazing how he never stopped still. But there is something in particular that differentiated this restlessness from others in him, he seemed anxious, as if he wanted to tell you something.

"Is everything okay with you?" You laugh as you get up from his lap, Warren seems to come back from a trance, and you notice that he couldn't look you in the eye. "Hey, I'm getting worried…"

"Worried? No need to cutie, I'm normal." He shrugs, talking so fast that you could tell he's lying.

"I know you better than I know myself Warren, what's up?" You can't contain the urge to hold one of his hands, noticing it's cold. "You're nervous... It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."

"It's no big deal..." He says rubbing the back of his neck, still avoiding her eyes, he takes a deep breath.

"Okay, we can talk about something else." You pat his shoulder in reassurance, he smiles a little. "Oh my God I forgot to tell you! Camila and Billy started to date… can you believe it? It's like everyone I know starts dating and I'm stuck with no one."

You sigh in distress, leaning your body once more on him, you don't notice but his muscles stiffen and he starts to direct one of his hands to your waist wanting to pull you close, but before he does you turn to look him in the face once more.

"And you? Is someone special messing with your little heart?" You joke, pointing to his chest as you speak, he laughs looking down.

"You know very well that the only special women in my life are you and my mother." His tone was humorous, but maybe if you were looking into his eyes you'd catch the glimmer of sincerity there.

You feel butterflies in your stomach with his sentence, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. "Stop being silly Rojas!"

He opens his mouth to say he wasn't joking, feeling a sliver of courage in him, but like a cliché from a romance movie your mother appears interrupting him.

"So only your mom and my girl are the women in your life?" She says in a playful tone, crossing her arms over her torso. "I practically raised you, Warren!"

"My bad." He shrugs a little embarrassed, he holds one of your hands and kisses it as usual when saying goodbye to you. "I'll see you later, right?"

"Sure thing." You caress his cheek after he kisses your hand, these affectionate attitudes were common between you.

"Bye miss L/N…" He says passing by your mom, leaving the door of his house.

"You know Y/N, maybe Daniela and I were right…" Your mom says as soon as Warren closes the door, you turn your gaze to her, not understanding a word.

"What are you talking about?" You question her, who rolls her eyes playfully.

"You two are getting married." She says humming, walking off towards the kitchen.

Warren left your house wishing he had the courage to come back and say he only wanted to go with one person to this ball, you. But the fear of not being reciprocated was overwhelming, blocking him from taking that action.

Since he was little Warren has had the habit of kissing your hand when he says goodbye to you, this custom started when you were still very small and he was sure that you were very fragile, even though you guys were close in age and the same size, he felt he needed to protect you.

You and Rojas have always been very close since day one, and when you started making new friends at school it came as a shock to both of you, it was a distance you weren't used to. You even took a while to like Graham, Eddie and Chuck because of jealousy, since now he didn't have 100% of his time for you.

Warren knew that you felt insecure around his new friends, not only because they were unfamiliar to you but also because you felt a bit out of place. And that's why he always made sure to make you comfortable, never leaving your side, holding your hand when he felt you were anxious, including you in subjects that you were not aware of until then. Until you felt comfortable in their presence, which, thanks to Rojas' attitude, didn't take long to happen.

Warren seemed to have an inexplicable connection with you, and consequently you with him. You knew how to differentiate his common restlessness from a restlessness caused by anxiety or discomfort, and he knew that you were quieter when you were uncomfortable in an environment. Through this you created a way to comfort each other when these situations happened, it wasn't something you guys sat down to talk about and agreed on, it was as natural as the first time you met.

He noticed when you needed support, holding your hand in comfort, or stroking your knee so that physical contact would help you calm down. And when that didn't help, he would take you out of the room so they could be alone with you and help you regulate your breathing or just give you a hug.

You on the other hand knew that Warren was a restless and excited person, it was hard to let him down or dampen his sunshine spirit. So you knew that many times, in order not to disturb others, he pretended to be in that state and you knew exactly when he was feeling bad, your attitude was usually to take him out of a sociable place, letting him breathe in a calmer place and reassuring him that it was okay not to be okay and that you would be there for him always.

When you were sad Rojas used to pick dandelions from the backyard to give to you, since the first time you went to his house your eyes lit up when you saw his mother's backyard. He noticed how you timidly approached the garden tools, always wanting to take a closer look at the flowers, and he knew that those plants made your heart warm.

Warren truly believes that you're the one who helped him become who he is today, as if you were his motivation whenever he thought about giving up.

As you two were always with each other, or at his house, or at yours, or even at a friend's house you have the same comfort meals because you grew up together.

You made Rojas a beaded bracelet when you were little, which he still wears today.

When Rojas was eleven years old, you gave his mother the idea of giving him a set of drums, since he already had his grandfather's drumsticks.

"Can you please stop moving?" You talk with your hands over Rojas' eyes, with difficulty as he was now taller than you.

He sighs, placing his hands on his wrists. "Forgive me, cutie, I just don't like not seeing what's in front of me."

"If you'd let me guide you without moving, we'd be done with this in no time." You say through a laugh, he looked distressed, you notice the frustration when he sighs once more.

Then you turn him so he's facing you, and remove your hands from his eyes. "Hey, trust me... It's ok, if you don't like me covering your eyes I can come in there and call you when everything is ready. How's that?"

He smiles gratefully, "Sorry, I didn't mean to ruin your surprise"

You give him a light slap on the shoulder, "Don't be silly, you didn't ruin anything, I'll be right back… wait for me."

You say and he nods in agreement, running to his garage and closing the access door. "And don't even think about peeking, otherwise I'll get mad." Your scream comes out muffled, he doesn't avoid smiling silly at your attitude.

You arrange the drum set the way you think is right, after all the only thing you knew about it was the information that Warren had given, his mother was at work and gave you permission to show him his gift as soon as you got home from school, and you thanked the heavens because you couldn't stop saying you had a surprise for him since you met in the morning.

You put a bow on the bigger drum to decorate it, taking the drumsticks that you had taken from him without him noticing next to the object. You really hoped he would like it, hoping he hadn't read the signs wrong.

"Okay big boy, you can come in!" You give the green light, and he cautiously turns the doorknob as he enters. "Surprise!" You exclaim, pointing both hands at the gift.

"¡No mames!" He exclaims in pure shock, the smile on his face so big it makes you smile accordingly. He runs to you hugging you and lifting you in the air, you wrap your arms around his neck laughing with joy. "Damn girl, I love you!"

You smile so hard you could tear your cheeks, "I'm glad you like it, me and your mom scrambled to find the perfect one."

He looked at the drums like a happy child, afraid even to touch his new gift. He sat on the chair taking the sticks in his hands, testing each one of the drums.

You move closer to him, resting your chin on the top of his head, feeling his curls against your skin. "I love you too, by the way. Happy birthday."

✧.* 2 — as teenagers / early adulthood

You learned Spanish with Warren and Camila, but mostly with Rojas since you spent nights together since you were little, you used to hear him talking with the family always (bc you were always at his house) and ended up learning several words, your biggest difficulty was pronouncing them.

Warren introduced you to the band as soon as he joined, as that was where he would spend most of his time and it was infeasible for him to spend half of his time without you.

Eddie and you became quite close too, and this caused Rojas to be very jealous.

You were at every one of his gigs, always supporting him and cheering the loudest.

Your parents always said how cute you would look as a couple (mostly your moms bc they were your biggest shippers since day one), but you two always stressed that you were just friends.

Even though you were just friends, you were always mistaken for a couple, and you two always had to clarify with an embarrassed chuckle that you were best friends. Warren loved those moments, it was like he got a taste of what it would be like to be more than just your friend.

You and Warren got into the habit of talking at your windows at night, since your rooms face each other.

When you reached 15/17 years old, silly fights started to take place, mostly because you were jealous of the way he was becoming close and interested in other girls. It was almost unbearable to have to see this new face of your best friend, even more so when it came up when you noticed that you liked him.

"Why are you acting like that?" Warren says walking into your room, you sit by the window, ignoring his presence before you freak out.

"I honestly don't want to talk to you." Your voice embargoed, you wanted to cry with frustration.

"Did I do something?" He looked confused, you hated how his voice came out with concern. "Are you really going to ignore me?"

"What do you want me to say?" You turn to him, he notices your watery eyes, feeling your chest tighten.

"I want to know what happened, please, you know I don't like to fight with you."

You sigh, trying to muster up the courage to utter the thought that has been haunting you for days. "You're replacing me..."

"What?" He approaches you, and you allow him to hold your hands.

"You're replacing me with that girl, it's like I don't even exist anymore." The tears fall down your cheeks, and he feels pain seeing you like that.

"Oh no, hermosa, of course not!" He brings one of his hands to your cheek, stroking it as he looks into your eyes."It's me you forever."

"Well, I don't feel like it anymore." You mean it, and the words you utter are like a knife in his heart. "At least it doesn't look like it from your attitudes."

"You are very important to me, I don't want us to lose that…" His voice was like a whisper that flooded you with hope, maybe you weren't losing him like you thought. "I promise you it's me and you and no one will take your position in my life."

There were no secrets between the two of you, so when Warren stalled to tell you about their moving as a band to LA, you knew something was wrong. He was avoiding you, when you talked he avoided looking into your eyes, it was like tearing a part of him away from you and that's why he avoided telling you.

You hadn't had a decent conversation in days, you were hating the way he was avoiding you so had decided to take the actions to end it once and for all. You knew he'd be rehearsing one last time before the show they were opening an event in town, and making sure he made it backstage before heading out to enjoy the bar, you secured your access there with the help of Camila.

So there you were, impatiently waiting as you stared at the dressing room door, listening to the sound of them ringing like a muffled noise. Rojas felt his absence in the audience and his heart sank to notice that this was his first concert that you weren't watching, the thought that maybe you were upset that he had avoided you all week echoing through his mind more than the noise his sticks made when they collided with the drum.

He'd done it all on automatic, and he was grateful his muscle memory hadn't let him down at that point because Billy was going to fuck him up if he screwed things now. Frustrated, he splashes water on his face before leaving the bathroom, thinking about how he would justify himself to you when he sees you tomorrow.

He makes his way to the dressing room made available for the band, knowing he was probably the last one to go there to collect his belongings. He stops at the foot of the door when he notices a noise coming from inside, he checks once more the plaque nailed to the wooden object, ensuring that it was not the wrong door. But when he hears a loud crash of things falling he immediately turns the doorknob, finding himself face to face with you trying to pull a much bigger man off of you.

He doesn't remember exactly how, but the rage so blinded him that he only stopped when he saw his hand punching his face. He didn't take long to get into a fight with the man he had no idea who he was, what his purpose was there, he just knew you and knew that you were extremely uncomfortable in his presence.

"What's wrong with you man?" The guy says through one punch or another in his face, trying to hit Rojas.

"What's wrong with you, are you crazy?" He returns the question, irritated by the way he manages to be cynical. "Don't ever lay a finger on her again, you understand me?"

The man opens a cynical smile, Warren punches him in the face once more, who now feels the intensity of the punch and returns the blow. The drummer sees black for a few moments, before he pulls himself together by grabbing the man by his collar.

"Do you understand me?" You have never seen such great anger in your voice. "I can spend the day punching you if I have to."

The man looks at you as if he blames this whole situation on you, you avoid looking into his eyes, embarrassed and insecure. He gets up making his way to the door.

"Fuck, cutie, are you okay?" He holds your face in both hands, looking deep into your eyes for any sign. You pull him close, hugging him as if desperately seeking comfort. "Please give me a sign, I need to know if you're okay."

You break away from the hug, looking into his eyes, feeling safe. "You arrived at the right time, I'm fine, it was just a scare... I think."

"What are you doing here?" He asks lost, feeling the adrenaline draining out of him and the pain of the punches taking over.

"I needed to talk to you... You know? Without you avoiding me." You knew this wasn't the time for any sarcasm, but you couldn't help but let the annoyance emanate from your chest.

He drops his gaze, feeling embarrassed. You hold his hands, trying to pass security.

"What is going on?" You ask, stroking his hands in yours.

"There is something very complicated going on and I don't have— I don't know if I can tell you." His voice cracks, you recognize he's about to cry.

So your first act is to untangle your hands from his and bring them to his face, holding it with concern and hoping he sees that it was safe to be with you. "It's me and you."

"In our last gig we talked to a guy named Rod, remember?" You nod your head, ready to hear what he has to say. "And he told us that we have a lot of potential but that staying in Pittsburgh was going nowhere."

You can't disguise your trembling body, your breathing even becomes heavier, he closes his eyes without being able to look into yours when he finishes the sentence. "The best decision to make our dream come true is to go to LA, we have no alternative if we want to grow in this."

"Wow..." You utter with a sigh, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill out of your eyes. "It makes a lot of sense, there is indeed a place with more opportunities for you, do you already know where you are going to stay?"

"Not exactly…" He says amidst a humorless laugh. "We'll decide everything when we get there…"

"Warren…" You scold him, not for his decision to go but for the folly of going without plans. "Los Angeles is not Pittsburgh, you guys can't just leave without having a place to sleep, let alone without money."

"We're already packing our bags, Billy's looking forward to seeing everything." You knew he understood your point, and by the way he tried to bring the good side of the situation you knew that was a fear of him too.

"Just promise me that you'll only go after you know where you're going to live." You take his hands again, he nods. "Please Warren, I'm serious."

"I promise you cutie, I promise." He now has an easygoing expression on his face, as if your approval is all he wants. "I think I'm going to need your help to find a place though." He laughs and you don't hesitate to help him.

You helped "The Dunne Brothers" and Camila find a place to live. And with the help of your parents you got them a house to rent in Laurel Canyon, a relative of yours was renting after the death of a lady... The story was a bit morbid but it was what they could afford.

Watching Warren tear down the decor in his childhood bedroom where the two of you spent so much time and created so many memories was heartbreaking.

Warren moving was one of the craziest things in your life, it was actually losing a part of you. But it was more important to see that smile and the joy he felt playing with the band.

You watch from your bedroom window as Warren packs his van, your heart sinking every second he puts a new suitcase inside. You take a deep breath leaving your room, it was very difficult to hold back your tears even more as the urge to cry increased with each step of the stairs you went down. It was like a flashback to the first time you saw him, only now the moving truck was his Van, taking away what the truck brought you most precious.

You were alone at home, so not even your mother could give you a comforting hug in this very frustrating situation. You knew Rojas would leave in a few hours, the rain outside was getting heavier every minute which gave you a guarantee of a few more minutes because Rojas' mother would never let him travel in the rain.

So you take your time to bake cookies for your best friend, just like the first time. You didn't have any consolation for that moment, you cooked between tears remembering the good times imagining what life without Warren would be like, hating every scenario without him.

As soon as you finish the cookies, you pack them in a jar getting ready and trying to get yourself together for the moment you feared the most: The farewell.

You didn't mind the drops of water hitting your skin when you walked out of your house towards his, nothing seemed important when your world was going to change in seconds. You can see Rojas' curly hair in the distance, he seems to be fixing some things on the hood of his Van and you slowly approach.

You lean against the wall waiting to notice his presence, still with the cookies in your hand. He takes time but when he sees you standing there he opens a huge smile.

"Look who it is." He says opening his arms, going towards you, then he notices the pot in his hands and feels his legs weaken. "I can't believe you did this..."

You can't hold it anymore, tears come down your face out of control, you can't answer just stand there with your tears. He feels his heart sink, his body giving up, he goes to you and removes the bowl from your hands, putting it somewhere else.

"You know you just ask and I'll stay, right?" He whispers holding your face between his hands, you cry more with that statement. "I hate to see you cry..." He rests his forehead on yours, squinting his eyes.

You back out a little from him wiping your tears while trying to hold the others that wanted to go out.

"As much as I love having you here, I love seeing you happy. And that's why I would never ask you to do this." You utter, feeling your chest hurt, his absence being able to leave you breathless. "I just can't deny that I'm going to miss you so much."

"Me too princess, I don't know if I can live without you." He says now letting his tears fall, he notices with his face close to his a crazy desire to kiss you, as if he let this moment slip away he wouldn't have another one... At least not one like this one.

You notice him staring at you, interspersing between your mouth and your eyes now and then, their breathing becomes heavy as they think the same thing, the world seems to freeze waiting for the next action of the two of you.

As the world seems to freeze around the two of you, the weight of the moment becomes almost unbearable. The unspoken emotions hang heavy in the air, and a mixture of fear and longing grips both your hearts.

In that suspended moment, Warren's hand gently caresses your cheek, wiping away the remaining tears. His touch is tender, and his gaze holds a depth of emotion that words could never express. As you look into his eyes, you see a reflection of your own feelings mirrored back at you.

Unable to resist the pull any longer, he leans in, closing the gap between you. His lips meet yours in a soft, delicate kiss. It's a kiss filled with years of friendship, the promise of what could be, and the bittersweet taste of farewell.

The world around you seems to fade away, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the softness of his lips against yours. It's a moment frozen in time, etched into your memory forever.

For that brief instant, it's just the two of you, wrapped in each other's presence and the unspoken words that bind your souls. The kiss speaks volumes, conveying all the love, affection, and sadness that words alone could never capture.

As the kiss ends, you both pull back, your foreheads still touching, trying to catch your breath. A mix of emotions swirls in your eyes - love, longing, and acceptance. You know that this kiss is a poignant farewell, but it also holds the promise of a future filled with possibility.

Warren gently whispers, "It's you and me, and nothing will change that."

When Rojas left with the rest of most of your friends it was like being lost, starting over without everything you've ever known. It was one of the most difficult phases of your life for sure.

After they left, you decided it was your time to move on, seek what you wanted for yourself, and that's when you moved to college.

Warren and you stayed in touch, through letters and phone calls all the time. It was more distant for sure, but it was better than nothing, a way to have him around.

Warren even though he was experiencing his dream once and for all, he felt it was incomplete without you by his side.Everything he saw that excited him he wanted to show you, but you weren't there, re-educating himself in a reality where you weren't was torturous.

✧.* 3 — the reunion

Pittsburgh wasn't your ideal place to live, and once you got accepted to college, you made a point of moving. After all, there was nothing holding you there.

Keeping in touch with Warren and the band wasn't difficult, you spent time in LA with them whenever you could (usually during your vacation).

You spent a few weeks with Camila while The Six were on the 'SevenEighNine' tour.

You finished your college when Camila gave birth to Julia, and you decided to travel there to support your friend in this difficult time. And that's when you saw Warren after months.

When you and Rojas meet again it was different from when you were younger, since the kiss things were, shall we say, different. It was as if things that were once simple for you, such as physical contact, sharing a bed, affectionate kisses, spontaneous hugs, now held a greater meaning. Simple things became loud causing your and his heart to race.

"You still wear that little bracelet I made you?" "It's like my good luck charm.."

You spent late nights talking to kill the longing, it was like coming home.

On one of those nights you smoked and talked while admiring the starry sky of LA. Warren shirtless as usual now was something that made you nervous, you wanted not to look at him with a different look, but it was difficult when he looked so beautiful like that.

You tried to avoid looking at him too much for fear of showing how you felt, so you usually talked looking straight ahead and not into his jabuticaba (It's a delicious Brazilian fruit, search it on Google if u want to) eyes.

"You know, there hasn't been a day since we've been apart that I haven't thought about you." He utters as he blows out cigarette smoke, your heart speeds up dramatically. "I miss you so much cutie."

"I miss you too, like crazy!" You then muster up the courage to look him in the eyes, and you could swear he was the most interesting thing in that whole town.

"I am so fucking happy that you are here with us." He stands up, grabbing one of your hands to twirl you around and hug you afterwards. "There's still time for you to come live with us, okay? My room will always fit the two of us."

Suddenly, you started to see him in a different light. It was like your friend became the hottest person in the world overnight, and let's be honest, you loved the new mustache.

And for him it was no different, he already had a huge crush on you but now with a grown look in his eyes it was as if his heart was beating in search of you.

You decided to be quiet about your growing feelings for him, because you were sure that they were one-sided. After all, you always saw him surrounded by groupies who could contain his attention more than you ever could (in your eyes), so your decision was to remain silent about your feelings.

But let's be honest if you knew he never bluffed when he said you were the woman of his life, you'd be sure you shouldn't even consider that you weren't an option for him. He was always madly in love with you, he was just trying to camouflage those feelings by dating other women because he thought it wasn't his option. In the end, it was just a big lack of communication.

He often admired your beauty and just stared at you for a long time. You always thought it was due to some drugs or because he was drifting in his thoughts, but he just loved to admire you.

You helped Warren stay excited about the band while Billy was in rehab.

When Warren got the job of cleaning boats in Malibu Harbor, his fixation on boats extended and you loved seeing his excitement about it, he even called you to go see some promising that one day when he bought yours he would take you to Mexico City.

As you spent a lot of time there, you managed to establish your life there with them and a few months later you moved to LA.

From the moment you moved in together, you became UNBEARably clingy. It was very normal for the two of you, but there were moments when you were closer than the real couples in that house.

Everyone in the house already knew you were crazy about each other, but they got tired of trying to prove their points to you two.

Camila was crazy for you guys to be together at once, and she was constantly trying to convince you two to talk about it. Warren was very afraid of ruining your friendship and you were convinced that he didn't like you that way.

"Why aren't you guys dating yet?" and you answer, "For the last time Cami, we are just friends, that's the way he sees me at least"

But then Warren answers, "Too afraid of losing the friendship."

Warren loved to see you enjoying their music, and he always asked you to dance with him to the record.

When Billy created honeycomb and Daisy made it a thousand times better, you went with them to meet the studio and give support.

It was becoming unbearable for him to hide what he felt for you, every time he had you close he wanted to kiss you, hug you and show you that he loves you with all his heart. And that's when he decided to call his mother and ask for advice, and she assured you that you two were made for each other and that telling you the truth would be the best decision.

✧.* 4 — finally, being a couple

Warren took advantage of one of his days off where only Billy and Daisy would record vocals, to ask you to go out on a boat (which he rented). You accepted without hesitation, after all, spending time with him was what you liked most.

"So? What do you think of the view?" He asks you when you admire the waves.

"It's so fucking pretty… my god." You complain with a huge smile on your face, and he feels like it was all worth it just to see your smile. "Now I understand your fixation on these boats, they are amazing!"

He holds your hand leading you to a place where you could both sit down to admire it better, he offers you a drink for you to have while you talk. He watches you more than meets the eye, as if you are all that matters to him. He spends a few minutes thinking about how to tell you how he feels, looking for the best ways to play this information that could change everything between you.

"Do you remember when we agreed that if neither of us found someone, we would stay with each other?" Warren says through a laugh, did you know he always laughed in situations where he was nervous.

Curious, you stop looking at the view to focus on him. "Yes… what about it?"

"What if I've found someone?" You feel your heart tighten, the lump in your throat grows and you struggle not to think you're stupid for thinking you'd have something one day.

"Oh… you did?" You open a smile clearly forcing, hoping your acting was better.

"Yes, but that will go against what we agreed…" He looks you in the eyes and you feel intimidated, like he's reading your soul.

"What do you mean by that?"

"What if my special someone is you?" Your eyes widen at his statement, he slowly approaches you.

"Rojas, I swear to God if you're trying to make a joke here..." His heart was beating wildly, his hands were sweating, he broke into a smile wetting his lips.

"I would never do that, come on." He takes one of his hands to your cheek, you feel his electric touch on you. "I've liked you since fourth grade."

"Are you serious?" You had a huge smile on your face, he rolls his eyes playfully.

"Everyone knew but you, cutie!" He speaks, moving closer and closer to you. "I am yours."

"Fuck Rojas, you're going to be the death of me." You pull him by the vest, since he clearly wasn't wearing a shirt, sealing your lips in an anxious, desperate and needy kiss.

After that day, you started dating, and then you had the free pass to be the most unbearable couple in that house.

Every day, remembering your passion for flowers, Rojas would bring you a different flower and a bag of seeds for you to plant in your own garden.

Every day when Warren came home from a tiring day at work, you kissed his forehead assuring him you had done a good job, and put ice on his hands to help him get through the pain of calluses.

One day when you were upset, your boyfriend and best friend showed you a bunch of dandelions to give to you.

"Why on earth are you holding this baby?" You ask with a small smile, and he's quick to kiss your lips like he misses you every second of the day he spent away from you.

"When we were little I used to give them to you when you were sad, I figured it would help." He says shyly, holding the bouquet out to you.

"Fuck, I love you so much." You kiss him one more time, feeling like no one understands you as much as he does.

After Warren and you got together, you found out that both your fathers had made several big bets about how long it would take for you to get together (your dad won). And your mothers were already very sure that this would happen at some point, so they didn't even waste time with a bet.

When you guys went to Pittsburgh, you alternated between sleeping at his house and yours, to spend time with both families.

You and Rojas adopted a kitten, he gave her to you for your birthday and you named her snowflake.

When your relationship became public to fans of 'Daisy Jones and The Six' Warren couldn't stop bragging about you, because he was so fucking happy to have you as his girlfriend that he wanted the world to know. Every opportunity he had he mentioned you in interviews, for example.

Warren spent his days on tour missing you desperately, and every time he could send someone to pay for the tickets so you could meet them in the middle of the tour, it was horrible for him to go without you.

You guys often recreate traditions that you used to do as children.

Rojas loved to show affection to you in different ways. Sometimes he caught you by surprise cooking, kissing your shoulders. He started to learn the way you liked to relax, to massage you, to pamper you in different ways.

You surprised him several times at the studio when you found out he was going to have a busy day, taking food he loved and keeping him company on the days you could.

Warren loved to leave notes for you around the places he knew you would go.

"Te amo hermosa, it's you and me"

Forehead/temple/hand kisses all the time (he often says goodbye with a little peck on the lips and as always kissing your knuckles).

Warren calls you several times to find out how you are, if you're having a good day, if you ate well. Always very affectionate.

You went on the Aurora Tour with a "Drummer's Girl" T-shirt

Every time you saw Rojas interacting with Julia your heart warmed imagining you as parents.

Rojas tried to cook for you but since he wasn't the best at it, he started to buy you breakfast.

You have movie nights at home, complete with popcorn and your favorite films, and snuggle on the couch.

As your boyfriend is the most electric soul on the earth, you always engage in playful arguments or competitions, like who can build the tallest tower out of cards. You guys even keep a score on it.

You have a collection of inside jokes from your childhood that still make you laugh.

You explore and engage in shared hobbies or interests, like painting, hiking, or playing board games.

You create photo albums together, capturing your favorite moments and memories.

He gives you heartfelt compliments and always makes you feel appreciated.

Warren avoids leaving for work without saying goodbye, he always says goodbye with a kiss on your lips and one on your hand.

"Te amo hermosa, hasta luego".

You occasionally surprise each other with small thoughtful gifts, like a book, a favorite snack, or flowers.

You have a bedtime ritual, like reading to each other or sharing the highlights of their day before drifting off to sleep.

You plan regular date nights, going to the movies, having dinner at a new restaurant, or doing something fun and exciting together.

Rojas made you watch Rollerball uncountable times.

Warren always buys you records, as he loves to see you sing and listen to music.

Sometimes you help each other choose outfits for special occasions, offering fashion advice and compliments.

You volunteer together for a cause you care about, supporting your community and making a positive impact

Sometimes you and the rest of the band have impromptu karaoke sessions at home, singing duets and dancing around the living room.

On lazy afternoons, you take cozy naps together, snuggled up under a warm blanket.

Usually you always take a day for the two of you, where you escape on his boat for a weekend alone. And it was on one of those days that he asked you to marry him

The starry sky was above you, you watched in silence as you listened to the waves crash against Warren's boat. He pulls you closer to him, smelling you and kissing your hair from time to time, and you rested calmly on his chest.

"Remember when I put a ring pop on your finger when we were five? You know, as my way of proposing to you?" He asks between a yawn, you had your eyes closed, feeling the emotion of the moment, the cold breeze against the body covered only by the covers.

"…I do yeah, that was actually very cute, baby" You say kissing his lips for a moment, not noticing that one of his hands has gone into the pocket of his vest lying beside him.

"What would you do if, hypothetically, I were to get down on one knee and put a real ring on your finger?" He whispers with his forehead pressed against yours, you feel your body weaken at his words, your heart almost stopping in your mouth.

"Warren Rojas I swear to God—" You start to talk but he interrupts you.

"Would you say yes like you did all of those years ago, with no hesitation?" His smile was bigger with each word spoken, you feel the tears in your tear duct threatening to come out.

He takes the ring into view, waiting for your response with a nervousness in him. "Marry me?"

"Absolutely, my love." You kiss him, sealing your promise and the hope of the incredible life you will have from now on.

...

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one; a study in lake water and forest princesses. -> w.rojas

WARNINGS: None for this chapter!

SYNOPSIS: This is chapter one of the Camp Wawayanda Lake Series! (read the prologue here!) It's the first day of camp and Billy does something stupid that sets Daisy on a summer-long path toward revenge. word count: 3,620

NOTES: I'm super psyched that you guys loved the prologue! I hope this one lives up to your expectations <3 check out the official series playlist on spotify!

Dawn was barely breaking over camp when you awoke. Stretching, you observed your cabin mates in the gray morning light: Daisy in the bed next to you, sprawled on her stomach, her red hair a chaotic mess all around her; Simone on the other side of her, pink satin bonnet secured over her hair, ancient quilt tucked right up around her chin; across the room Karen, her sheets and blankets shoved to the floor in the night, laying flat on her back with her head hanging almost over the edge, messy blonde hair brushing the wooden floor; and Camila, curled in the fetal position and almost tucked entirely beneath her sheet, only the top of her dark head of hair visible. You couldn’t help but grin as you looked around at the four of them. There was no better feeling in the world than waking up back at camp, surrounded by your favorite people. Waking up even earlier than you had to for school didn’t even feel bad when it was at Wawayanda Lake. 

Slowly, you pulled yourself onto your feet and made your bed, laughing to yourself over the fact that none of your movement or noise made anyone else wake up. All of your girls were such heavy sleepers. Just then, you knew the kitchen crew was finishing breakfast, setting it out on the long buffet tables for the kids and staff. You were close friends with a lot of the kitchen boys– Mario and Pat and Benny especially, all boys whose mothers were friends with Rod and had been coming to camp with you practically since birth– and the thought of them getting breakfast ready already had you excited to get back to your usual nightly poker games with them and the girls. 

You change into a loose powder blue t-shirt and a pair of orange athletic shorts, sitting on the edge of your bed to tie your laces before heading to the cabin’s tiny bathroom– nothing more than a toilet and a sink with a rusted mirror above it, as the showers had a cabin of their own– to brush your teeth and fix your hair for the day. As you do so, you hear the others begin to stir in the other room, and by the time you emerge, Camila and Simone are up with their beds made, getting ready for the day. 

“How on Earth are you always up so damn early?” Simone grumbled as she caught sight of you coming out of the bathroom, chipper and ready to get started on the first day of camp. She was sitting on her made bed, her clothes for the day on her lap, though she made no move to actually get dressed. 

You laughed, shaking your head at the grumpy way her eyebrows drew together. “Some of us can function as morning people, Mone.” 

“I can’t believe you ever became a counselor in the first place,” Camila piped up from the other side of the room with a laugh. “It’s, like, a mix of so many things you hate. Getting up early, the outdoors, the heat, being surrounded by so many children.”

Simone rolled her eyes as Camila ticked off the reasons on her fingers. “Something about you people charmed me, but I honestly can’t remember what now.” 

“Oh, you don’t mean that,” you dismissed, wrapping your arms around Simone’s shoulders. “We’re your irresistibly favorite people.” Simone only grunted in response, finally standing and making a move to get dressed as you released her shoulders. 

“I’ll see you guys at breakfast, I’m gonna go visit Rod and Teddy first,” you said, opening the screen door and letting yourself out into the cool morning air. It was slightly foggy, though you could see the sun doing its damndest to break through and knew it would be blistering by noon. 

Teddy and Rod had a cabin up near the administrative buildings, a few minutes’ walk away from the counselor and camper cabins. It was one of the oldest structures on the property, an honest-to-god logger’s cabin that had been built sometime in the 1890s, a beautiful, cozy little place that you had spent as much time as possible in as a kid. It was about sixty years later that the rest of the camp began to spring up around it. 

You knew Uncle Rod would still be asleep when you got there– he’d always been terrible at waking up before eleven at the earliest, but Teddy was just as much of an early bird as you. Stepping up to the front porch, you caught sight of him through the window, sitting in one of the big armchairs in the living room with a cup of coffee and a book. You rapped your knuckles lightly against the glass, sending him a wave when he looked up. Smiling, he came over to open the door for you. 

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he greeted, moving aside to allow you in. 

“Morning, Teddy,” you grinned, dropping into the chair opposite his. “So, first day. How are you feeling about this season?”

“Tired just thinkin’ about it,” he chuckled. “The kids seem good, though. Our regulars are back, and the new kids don’t seem like they’ll be trouble.”

“Thankfully,” you agreed. “I’m just glad that little menace, Danny Kowalski, from last year didn’t come back.” 

“I told his mother our price was raised by seventy-five dollars just to get her not to send him back,” Teddy told you seriously, and you bursted into laughter. 

“Genius,” you said as you calmed down. 

“How are you feeling about this season?”

“Oh, relieved to be back,” you told him. “This is my place, you know? All of my favorite people are here, and I love looking after the kids. I couldn’t wait to get back.” 

“I don’t think you’ll ever know what it means to your uncle that you love it here so much,” Teddy told you, the smile on his face soft and fond. 

“Well, I don’t think he’ll ever know how much it means to me that he keeps inviting me back,” you responded earnestly. Teddy reached out and dropped his large hand over yours, patting it a few times. 

“You better get goin’ to breakfast before you miss all the good stuff,” Teddy told you and you laughed, standing from your seat. 

“See you later, tell Uncle Rod I dropped in,” you said with a wave as you exited back out onto the dirt path. The sun had broken through the morning mist a little more, cascading in golden beams through the trees. By now, the wake up call had gone out through the camp, and everyone was in varying states of consciousness, getting ready for the day and making their way to breakfast. You passed gaggles of little campers in matching Wawayanda Lake ringer tees, the white fabric standing against the dark green letters and collar and their already tanned skin. 

All of your friends were at your usual table as you entered the mess hall, raucous conversation emanating from your little corner. You laughed to yourself when you saw that Daisy was leaning her head against the wall, seemingly asleep again. If Simone was bad with mornings, Daisy was awful with them. You made your plate and joined them, easily falling into the conversation they were already in the middle of. That was something you loved so dearly about these friends, this place; you felt that you belonged in every way and with every person. Not once had you ever felt alone or isolated here, and you knew that you never would. 

After breakfast, you stopped in the break room of the mess hall with everyone else to see what your assignments for the day were. You each had two daily, one assignment for the morning, and one for the afternoon, after lunch. Finding the row with your name, you almost laughed out loud. You and Daisy were assigned to lead the morning hike. Should be fun, seeing how Daisy is still barely awake. You watched as Daisy, eyelids still drooping, found her assignment and groaned, collapsing into the desk chair behind her. 

“Hey, maybe the hike will help wake you up,” you said to Daisy, clapping her on the shoulder with a shit-eating grin. 

“Easy for you to say, you’ve got the arts and crafts cabin this afternoon,” Daisy grumbled. “I have to teach stupid tennis after traipsing through the woods.” 

“Oh, come on, Hazy, lace up your sneakers,” you said, amused. A few minutes later the two of you were standing at the head of the blue trail with a group of twenty campers, chatting eagerly with one another and amped up on a school year’s worth of pent up energy. 

Blue trail went about a third of the way around the edge of the large lake, emptying out at the docks before pivoting and returning back to the main camp deeper through the woods. It took about two hours to complete, leaving you all time to freshen up a bit before lunch and the afternoon activities. You loved leading the hike. You knew all the trails by heart; hell, you could find your way back to camp without any trail in the dark at this point, probably. You knew a lot about the local flora and fauna and loved to point out what you saw on the hike, watching the kids’ mesmerized faces as they trailed a pair of blue jays through the sky, or caught a glimpse of a deer through a copse of trees. 

Daisy, on the other hand, absolutely hated it. Leading the hike was probably her least favorite activity at camp, and Rod was probably being a little shit by assigning it to her on the very first day. Luckily, yours and the kids' excitement was eclipsing Daisy’s already stormy mood. 

“Alright, campers,” you announced, and suddenly twenty pairs of eyes were on you. “I have a prize for whoever can spot and correctly identify five different birds on our hike. How ‘bout we get this show on the road?” 

With a cheer the kids surged forward and you grinned, leading the way into the mouth of the trail. You breathed in the thick scent of pine, relishing in the warmth of the dappled sunlight filtering through the branches. You kept a list in your little field notes book of who had identified which bird, and led a few call and response songs that you knew off the top of your head from your Girl Scouts days, laughing as the kids screamed them back at you at the top of their lungs. Daisy trudged behind, bringing up the rear, slowly but surely waking up, her mood brightening by degrees. Even she was not impervious to the happiness that sunlight brings. 

Sooner than you expected, the path widened until it emptied into the small, sandy area that constituted a beach in front of the lake. The dock lay beyond it, a few rowboats tethered to one side and a group of campers splashing around in the designated swim area on the other side. You grinned as you caught sight of Warren standing at the edge of the dock in a white t-shirt and red lifeguard board shorts, bent over with his hands on his knees so that he could talk to two kids in the water. Billy, the other counselor assigned to morning lake duty, was taking his shirt off and threatening to get in the water after a few kids who weren’t following the rules. 

“Okay, guys! We’re at the halfway point, so how about we take a little break?” you said, turning around to face your small group. “Why don’t you all sit at the picnic tables and eat the snacks you brought.” 

At your words, the kids flew off in the direction of the clump of picnic tables, taking water bottles and granola bars out of their drawstring bags. Daisy came to stand next to you, and for the first time that morning, she had a smile on her face. 

“Not so bad, huh, Hazy?” you asked, nudging her in the ribs when she rolled her eyes. 

“Don’t push it, babe,” she warned you, and you threw your hands up in mock surrender. 

“C’mon, let’s go say hello to the boys,” you said, linking your arm through hers and dragging her towards the dock. Billy noticed the pair of you first, and stopped threatening the kids in the water long enough to come over to you. 

“Hey, how’s the hike?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of you and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Terrible. As usual,” Daisy said, and Billy rolled his eyes, smirking at her usual antics. 

“Oh, don’t listen to her,” you said, unlinking your arm from Daisy’s so that you could dig a few granola bars out of your own bag. Wordlessly, you passed one to the redhead. “The rest of us are having a great time.” 

Just as you were about to open your granola bar, someone slammed into your side full force. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist, steadying you so that you wouldn’t fall on your ass. Turning your head, you came nose to nose with Warren’s grinning face. 

“Hey, cariño, what are you doing out here?” Even after you were steadied, Warren’s arms stayed linked securely around your waist. Unconsciously, you felt yourself slightly leaning into the warmth of him, the clean cotton smell of his shirt and the coconut scent of his sunscreen. 

“Hiking,” you told him, gesturing to shore, where your group was sitting. “Taking our halfway point break.” 

“Well, aren’t I lucky that I was scheduled out here today, then,” he said cheekily, and you rolled your eyes, playfully pushing him away. “Did you see we’re working the arts and crafts cabin together later?” 

“Yup,” you nodded, “looks like you’re double lucky today.”

“Looks like,” Warren agreed. 

You hadn’t noticed that Daisy and Billy had moved down the dock during your conversation until Daisy started shouting. Whipping around, you spotted the pair of them on the other end of the dock. She seemed to be reprimanding him, and based on the shit-eating grin on his face, he was not absorbing a single thing she said. He made a move to poke her in the ribs, and as she jerked away from that, attempted to grab the granola bar out of her hand. As she tried to dodge him, she lost her footing. 

“Oh fuck,” you breathed, being able to see the disaster about to unfold, but unable to do anything to stop it. 

Daisy’s arms pinwheeled in the air, her light eyes going wide. The heel of her sneaker had gotten caught between two slats of wood, halting her movement and making her completely lose her balance. Billy was too caught up in screwing around to notice in time to help, and before anyone else could move, Daisy fell backward into the lake with a loud splash. 

“Shit. Daisy!” Billy shouted, kneeling down and holding on the dock with one hand, reaching down to try to grab the redhead and pull her out with the other. In seconds, he had a grip on her forearm, and blithely pulled her out of the water, helping her climb back onto the dock. 

Despite her dousing, Daisy’s whole face was bright red, made to look all the brighter by the fiery hair plastered to her face. You could practically see the steam coming out of her ears. 

“This is not good,” Warren muttered beside you, and you shook your head in agreement. It was like watching a car crash: horrible, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

“You better watch yourself, Dunne,” Daisy said, her voice dangerously low as she jabbed her pointer finger into his chest. “Because I will be getting payback.” 

Without another word, Daisy turned on her heel and trudged off the dock towards your group. She shouted something at them and started down the trail without checking to see if you or the children were following her. 

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” you told Warren, pulling him into a quick hug before running down the dock. You offered a quick wave to Billy, stifling a laugh at the expression of horror adorning his face. 

“Break time over, guys! Let’s go catch up with Daisy,” you called, harried, to the kids, who were doing their best to pack their snacks up and get back to the trail. You brought up the rear for the rest of the hike, keeping a worried eye on Daisy’s distant wet head. 

Daisy disappeared into your cabin during the break, and you filled in the rest of the girls on the morning’s events over lunch. Everyone was in agreement that Daisy was about to go nuclear, and nothing good could possibly come from it. Knowing Daisy meant knowing that there was absolutely no way to predict how she would react to anything, and you were all waiting with baited breath to see what form her payback would come in for this incident. 

You all parted at the end of lunch uneasily, heading into the afternoon with a wariness, keeping on high alert to see if Daisy would try to get her revenge immediately. However, as you walked past the tennis courts to get to the arts and crafts cabin, you saw Daisy standing near the fence, wearing a new, dry outfit and with her still-damp hair tied up in a ponytail. She sure as hell didn’t look happy, but she also didn’t look like she was about to find and kill Billy Dunne in the immediate future, either. That was the best you could hope for. 

You were a few minutes late to afternoon activities after taking the long way past the tennis courts, and when you arrived, Warren already had all the kids started on their art: macaroni necklaces for the little ones, string friendship bracelets for the older ones. Warren was sitting in one of the tiny plastic kid chairs, his knees practically up to his chest as he helped a little redheaded boy string macaroni onto some thread. Smiling, you grabbed a chair from a stack against the wall and sat across from him. 

“Oh, look who finally showed up to her post,” Warren said by way of greeting. 

“I decided to take pity on you and not leave you alone in a room full of children and gallons of glitter,” you responded, your voice as full of sarcastic faux-cheer as his. He rolled his eyes, handing the redheaded boy his necklace once he was done helping him. 

“So…” Warren started, glancing around the table to make sure all the kids were too busy with their projects to really be listening to your conversation. “This morning was interesting, huh?”

“That’s one word for it, for sure.” 

“What do you think Daisy means by ‘payback’?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Rojas,” you said honestly. “But whatever she settles on, it’s not gonna be pretty.” 

Warren laughed in agreement. “I feel sorry for Billy.”

“Eh, he’s got it coming,” you shrugged. “The two of them rib each other all summer every year. I can’t believe it took this long to escalate, honestly.” 

“Maybe if Daisy kicks his a–” Warren started, cutting himself off abruptly when he remembered he was surrounded by impressionable elementary schoolers. “His you know what, they’ll act normal next summer.” 

“Now that is some wishful thinking– I don’t think either of them are capable of acting normal.” 

As you spoke, you absentmindedly strung pieces of macaroni and chunky wooden beads onto a strand of summery orange thread. When you finished, you triumphantly tied it and slung it around your neck, showing it off to the table in a way that made all the kids giggle. 

“And Miss (y/n),” a tiny, curly-haired boy to your left started. “You’re pretty! Right, Mr. Warren?” 

“Oh, certainly,” Warren agreed, nodding his head in a theatrical manner. “She’s so pretty because she’s the forest princess of Wawayanda Lake.” The little boy turned to look at you with shocked, saucer eyes, and you stifled a laugh. 

“Well, thank you boys,” you said, smiling gently at them. 

The rest of the afternoon flew by in the blink of an eye, you and Warren passing most of the time catching up on what happened over the school year and occasionally helping kids finish their projects. At dinner, all nine of you sat together, though Daisy pointedly sat all the way on the other end of the table from Billy, eating quickly and leaving the mess hall early. 

She wasn’t at the cabin when you all got back after your showers, and the rest of you tried to go about your night as normal, pretending the thought of Daisy out there somewhere on the campgrounds plotting revenge wasn’t unsettling. 

You sat on the front steps of your cabin with Karen, Camila, and Simone, wearing a giant Philadelphia Eagles t-shirt that you stole from Warren last summer, your hair swept up in your towel, a contraband cigarette dangling from your lips. Karen was on the step below you, her hair up in big pink rollers as she shuffled a deck of cards for a quick game of poker before you all got ready for bed. Just as she was about to deal, Daisy rounded the side of the cabin, making her way over to you with a scary look of determination on her face. 

There was a devilish gleam in her eye when she opened her mouth. 

“I know how we’re getting Billy back.”

tag list: @iwantloveletterss @boredshit-shadow @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @lilyhw1 @graziellasnotes @nicostars @robinismywife @xxxlaura @hella-sirius @everyonesannoyedwithme

[pinkdaiisies]

prologue; bug spray and bonfires and booze. -> w.rojas

WARNINGS: alcohol, cursing

SYNOPSIS: This is the prologue to the Camp Wawayanda Lake series! You arrive at camp and reunite with old friends. There's a drunken bonfire, and Warren is suddenly, distractingly beautiful. word count: 2,079

NOTES: I'm so psyched for you guys to read this series! it feels like the perfect thing to write as summer comes in. I hope you love it! check out the official series playlist on spotify!

“Fuck! What did I do with my bug spray,” you muttered, sifting through the growing pile of random crap amassing on your bedroom floor. It was an amalgamation of stuff you had half-unpacked from college during the few days you’d been home, and stuff you’d been gathering to pack up for the summer. Daisy and Simone were due to pick you up any time now, and your duffel bag of summer camp essentials was still only half packed. 

“I can’t believe you’re already off again,” your mother said, suddenly materializing in the doorframe of your bedroom. She maneuvered through the mess to drop a can of bug spray in your open bag, and you shot her a grateful smile. 

“C’mon, mom, do you really want me moping around the house all summer, eating all your food?” you asked with a laugh. You spotted your sunscreen partially buried under a mound of sweatshirts from college, and tucked it away in your bag. 

“Actually, yes, I wouldn’t mind it,” she responded indignantly. 

“I know, mamma,” you said, standing up to press a kiss to her cheek. “But you know I wouldn’t miss a Wawayanda Lake summer for all the world.” 

“I know, I know. Don’t forget to say hi to Uncle Rod for me, alright?” 

“Of course,” you waved a hand dismissively. “And Teddy, too.”

“Very good,” she poked your nose. “Don’t forget to pack your shower stuff.”

“Shit! That’s what I’m missing,” you huffed, tottering through the mess in your room and out to the hall closet, where the bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and soap you had bought specifically to bring to camp were waiting for you. As you made your way back to your bag, a car horn sounded from the street below. You unceremoniously dropped the bottles in your hands, making a beeline for the window. A cherry red Firebird was parked at the curb, Daisy’s familiar flaming head emerging from the driver’s side door. 

“Gotta go,” you announced to your mom, hastily zipping up your still-open duffel and throwing both of your bags over your shoulder. 

“Did you pack everything you need?”

“Guess I’ll find out! Bye mom, love you,” you grinned, dragging her into a quick hug before shooting down the stairs and out the front door. 

“My girl!” Daisy called as you emerged, throwing her arms wide as you emerged. You trotted down the driveway, dropping your bags on the sidewalk to launch yourself at her. 

“My hazy Daisy,” you grinned, arms still locked around her neck. “I missed you so much.” 

“You don’t even know the half of it.” 

“Where’s my Simone?” 

“Asleep in the passenger seat,” Daisy rolled her eyes. “Better not wake her when you get in. She almost bit my head off when I picked her up earlier.”

You laughed, ducking down to glimpse Simone’s sleeping form in the car. “She’s always so grumpy when she’s tired.” 

Daisy hoisted up one of your bags and you took the other, opening the back door and shoving them across the bench seat before climbing inside yourself. Daisy resituated herself in the driver’s seat, shooting you a grin through the rearview mirror. 

“Ready for another Wawayanda summer?” she asked. 

“I always am.” 

The ride up to Camp Wawayanda Lake was several hours, and you spent every minute with your head leaning against the open window, feeling the wind rush across your skin, singing along to the music blaring out of the radio. You watched as crowded suburbia turned into rural towns, as flat stretches of field turned into the winding road up into the mountains straddling the border of New Jersey and New York. With each mile that you traversed, you grew more excited at the prospect of everything this summer would bring. 

Undoubtedly, your closest friends in the world were those you had met at Wawayanda Lake. Some, like Daisy and Simone, you had met when you were children, attending summer camp together. The others, like Karen and Eddie, you had only met once you had all started working as counselors together back when you were sixteen. After days, it had felt like you’d known each other for years; never in your life did you connect with anyone that fast– even your college friendships paled in comparison. A part of you thought that Wawayanda Lake had to be magic in some way, the perfect conditions of summer sun and woodland isolation leading to you forging the most important relationships of your life. 

“We’ve arrived!” Simone shouted, breaking you out of your reverie. You shifted to look through the front windshield, catching a glimpse of the ancient wooden sign bearing ‘WAWAYANDA’ in faded white letters. A few minutes later, Daisy parked alongside a small group of other cars in front of the welcome building. 

“Looks like we’re the last to arrive,” you noted as you climbed out of the car, pausing to stretch your stiff limbs. 

“Yeah, we’re technically a little late,” Simone said, glancing down at her watch. 

“We’ll be fine, Roddy never gets mad at his little niece,” Daisy said, pinching your cheek as she walked past. You rolled your eyes at the gesture, following her and Simone up the front steps of the welcome building. 

Sure enough, everyone else was already milling around the main room, catching up with one another. You spotted Uncle Rod close to the door, back turned to you as he chatted with Teddy, and bounded over, scaring the shit out of him when you tackled him from behind in a hug. 

“Jesus fuck, kid,” he said, after realizing who it was who had accosted him. 

“Hello to you, too, Uncle Rod,” you grinned, detaching yourself from him in order to hug Teddy as well. “Mom says hello to you both.” 

“How is she these days?” Teddy asked, while in the background Rod muttered something about you nearly giving him a genuine heart attack. 

“Jealous that you two get to spend so much time with me,” you answered. “I’m very much in demand, you see.” 

“Of course you are,” Teddy chuckled. 

“Speaking of which, I’ve got places to be and people to see. I’ll talk to you guys later,” you winked at Teddy, hugged a still-grumbling Rod, and turned to your friends. 

“There she is!” Eddie said, the first to see you making your way towards everyone. He maneuvered around Karen and Graham to squeeze you in a hug so tight that it lifted you off of your feet. 

“Roundtree, wonderful to see you again,” you grinned, patting his cheek when he finally placed you back down on the floor. The next to reach you was Camila, whose hair was impossibly longer than the last time you’d seen her. You were enveloped in her familiar, comforting vanilla scent when she hugged you, a scent that could rocket you right back into memories of every previous summer of your life spent in this little stretch of woods. You made your way through Karen, Graham, and Billy as well, before looking around the room in confusion. 

“Where’s–” you started to ask, turning in a circle. You were cut off by the curly-haired boy you were seeking coming around the corner, grinning and already making a beeline towards you. 

“Warren!” you shouted happily, closing the distance between the two of you and launching yourself at him for a hug, completely trusting that he would catch you. His strong arms encircled your waist, clinging tightly as he spun you around in a circle. 

“There you are, angel,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I was wondering when you’d get here.” 

“Manage to pass all your classes this year?” you asked, and Warren rolled his eyes fondly. You had teased him all of last summer for failing his writing requirement first semester because he slept through every class, having to retake the following semester. 

“Yes, mom,” he returned. “I learned my lesson and stopped scheduling classes before noon.” 

“I don’t understand you, Rojas. You wake up before eight in the morning every day when we’re here, but you couldn’t manage a ten-thirty class?” 

“Well, I don’t get to look forward to seeing you every day when I’m at Penn State, do I?” 

You rolled your eyes, smacking him on the chest and ducking your head to ward away the blush warming your cheeks. That only made it worse, when your hand made contact with the hard expanse of muscle that was Warren’s chest. You took a step back, taking him in as he told you about something stupid his college roommate had done. 

Warren had always been something to look at, even when you met at sixteen and he was scrawny and growing like a weed, but something had happened over the last year. It was like he turned twenty and his body said got it, we have to look ridiculously beautiful and grown up now. His hair was longer than usual, his curls deep black and shiny and unruly as usual. He must have started hitting the gym or something, too, because the way his t-shirt stretched tightly over his chest, arms bulging strong and tan from the sleeves, was almost lewd. 

Fuck, you thought. Every preceding summer, you had been able to convince yourself that you didn’t like Warren than anything more than a friend. Anyone can appreciate eye candy, right? At least, that’s what you told yourself when your gaze lingered too long on his bare chest when he was on lifeguard duty at the lake. You had a feeling you weren’t going to be able to lie to yourself like that this summer. And that meant you were totally fucked. 

Night came quickly after a long afternoon of running orientation for the crop of new, baby-faced sixteen year old counselors. As you walked them through the camp and explained their responsibilities, you marveled at how you possibly ever looked so young. 

Now was the time for fun. You all had exactly two days to yourself before the kids arrived: days that were meant for setting up the camp and making sure everything was in working order. But those nights, they were just for you. And like any adolescents alone in the middle of the woods, you spent them getting drunk around the bonfire. Rod and Teddy turned a blind eye to your antics, hoping you could get most of it out of your system before about a hundred children became your responsibility for the rest of the summer. 

The bonfire was already raging, reaching warm, orange fingers up toward the star-scattered sky. Counselors new and old (when did you get to be on the old end of things? Where had all the time gone?) gathered around, drinking a truly disgusting mix of whiskey and several other things that you didn’t want to know; Eddie’s invention, of course. 

You sat on one of the benches, at that giddy sweet spot of drunkenness where everything was warm and hilarious and you weren’t hammered yet. Camila was trying to teach Eddie and Graham an old Girl Scouts song– really, kind of morbid, about the Titanic– and you couldn’t stop laughing over the fact that they were so drunk they couldn’t sing a single note on key. 

“I would knock them both out of the water if I tried to sing it,” Warren said, dropping down to sit next to you. 

“Oh? So let’s hear it, then,” you said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Can’t embarrass them like that,” Warren shrugged faux-apologetically, sending you into another fit of drunken laughter. 

As you quieted down, Warren bumped his shoulder against yours. “I missed you a lot this year.” The soft, low tone of his voice had an instant calming, sobering effect on you. 

“I missed you, too, War,” you said, turning to smile at him. Your breath caught in your throat at the way the firelight danced across his face, reflecting brightly off the sheen of his curls and brightening his eyes so much that it looked like the light was spilling out of him, not the fire. For the second time that day, you were confronted with how incredibly beautiful he was. 

“We better make the most of this summer, then,” he said. 

You hummed your agreement. “If we do, maybe we won’t have to miss each other so much.” 

“Lost cause,” Warren said, waving a hand dismissively. “I always miss you if you’re not right next to me.”

tag list: @iwantloveletterss @boredshit-shadow @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @lilyhw1 @graziellasnotes @nicostars @robinismywife @xxxlaura @hella-sirius @everyonesannoyedwithme

[pinkdaiisies]

she's a rainbow. -> w.rojas

WARNINGS: profanities, pining lol

SYNOPSIS: Warren's got it bad for Camila's childhood best friend. word count: 2,008

NOTES: Written for this request!

You dragged your paintbrush across the canvas, a trail of plum purple in its wake. You were sitting on your deck, the sky a cloudless blue, the morning filled with birdsong and a soft breeze only making itself known through the occasional soft rustle of your hair and clothes. June was a ripe peach in your hands, pink, perfect, fleeting. 

“What are you painting today, Picasso?” Warren’s clear voice rang out through the morning air. He was standing on the deck of his own house next door, forearms resting lazily on the railing as he gazed over at you. You glanced up from your work to send a smile his way. 

“Shocked to see you up this early,” you called by way of greeting. “If you wanna see what I’m painting, come over and look.” 

At your words, he disappeared back into the house, and you knew that in a minute he would be opening the sliding door and stepping out onto your own deck. You did this almost every day, ever since you followed your childhood best friend Camila across the country, moving into the house next to hers and her boyfriend’s band in Laurel Canyon. 

In the months since you arrived, you’ve gotten incredibly close with all of Camila’s housemates. Whenever you weren’t doing a shift for your part-time job at a coffee shop or at your own place working on your art, you were at their house. You and Camila spent a lot of time one-on-one, getting together for wine or lunch or anything else while the band was working, but the band loved you so much that you found yourself hanging out with them almost even more than with her, especially since Warren started inviting you to their recording sessions down at the studio. 

You had become so absorbed in your painting that you didn’t realize Warren had arrived on your deck until his hands were on the back of your chair and he was leaning over your shoulder to get a good look at the canvas. 

“Oh, it’s our street at night,” he observed, taking in the deep purples and night blues that the familiar street was rendered in. “It’s beautiful. Looks like a place I’d wanna be.”

You rolled your eyes. “It already is a place you wanna be, Warren. You live there.” 

Though you couldn’t see it, Warren grinned, swooping down to press a kiss to your cheek. “I only wanna be here so much ‘cause it’s where you are, mama.” 

You scoffed, sending a rueful smile his way as he sat in the chair next to yours. He pulled a joint out of his pocket, lit it, and offered it. You took it between your lips and inhaled before sending it back his way. For a while, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, Warren merely observing you as you painted. He had told you once, the two of you high as kites while hanging out late one night, that he loved to watch you paint. He said watching you paint was as intricate a thing as watching a musician play their instrument, that it was captivating. You had hung onto his words even through the drug-induced haze, had thought about them for weeks on end. 

“You’ll come over for dinner tonight, right?” he asked after a while. “Camila saw me leaving to come over here and made me promise to get you to come.”

“Man, I don’t even buy groceries over here anymore ‘cause I’m always just eating at yours,” you laughed. “Course I’ll come. Can’t beat the company.”

“Good,” he said, standing. “I gotta get back to the house; shockingly, I actually have responsibilities to see to today.”

“Oh, well color me impressed,” you responded, happily accepting his parting kiss on the cheek. 

Eddie watched, amused, as Warren got up for the dozenth time in the last half hour, drifting back over to the windows and peering outside, toward your house. Dinner was set for twenty minutes from now, and you were expected to come. Though some, clearly, were expecting you more than others. 

“Man, can you chill the fuck out? You’re making me antsy,” he said, after watching Warren pace the room for a few minutes while still pretending to look casual. 

“I am chill! I’m totally chill!” Warren said, having the gall to look incensed at his best friend’s words. 

Eddie leveled him with an unimpressed look. “Do you think you’ll finally just tell her how you feel so you can stop being such a fuckin’ freak every time she comes over?” 

Warren sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall. “Don’t you think if she was into me she would’ve said something by now? I’m not going to embarrass myself or ruin our friendship. I know when I’m gonna strike out.”

“Clearly you don’t, idiot,” Eddie retorted. “First of all, she could say the same about you because you haven’t made any moves either, man. All of what you just said means nothing.” 

“She’s definitely into you, anyway,” Graham said, joining the conversation as he walked into the room. 

“What makes you think that?” Warren asked, ignoring Eddie’s comments, which were clearly too logical for him. 

“Why else do you think she hangs around here so often? I mean, don’t get me wrong, we’re all friends, but everyone knows it's different with you two. Most of the time she’s here for you,” Graham explained. 

“Yeah, and don’t forget that she comes to our recording sessions because you asked her to,” Eddie chimed in, a smirk growing on his face as Warren’s cheeks grew redder. He didn’t have the chance to answer before someone knocked on the door. 

“You wanna go get that?” Eddie asked, raising a teasing eyebrow. 

Warren made his way to the door, shaking his head as if to physically rid himself of the conversation that had just happened. He had never felt the way he did about you before, not about any woman he had ever met. When you first met, things had been flirty between you, at least more flirty than you were with any of the other guys, and he almost plucked up the courage to ask you out in the first week of knowing you. But then the two of you got high together one night, and you got him talking about his hopes for the band, and you told him about all of your ambitions when it comes to your art, and he could feel himself falling in love a little. He had real, undeniable feelings for you, and that made it all too scary. So, he’d convinced himself that there was no way you could have feelings for him too, because thinking he had no chance with you was easier, more comfortable, than pining after you. 

He put a valiant effort into feigning nonchalance when he opened the door, all of these thoughts still a monsoon in his mind. You stood on the other side of the threshold, a bottle of wine in one hand and a covered plate of chocolate chip cookies in the other. 

“I baked ‘em!” you said proudly, holding up the plate and smiling widely at him. For a minute, his mind blanked, and all he could think about was the way your eyes sparkled in the porchlight, the way your dress fell perfectly on your figure. You knocked him dead every time he set eyes on you. Snapping out of it, he unburdened you of the bottle of wine and the cookies, widening his arms so he could take you in a hug. 

“Are they cookies? Or are they cookies,” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and smacking him playfully on the shoulder. “They’re just cookies, Rojas. This is a family dinner, not a late night recording session.” 

“Family dinner?” 

“Yeah,” you shrugged as you walked through the door. “This is a family, isn’t it?” 

“Guess it is,” he responded, because you were right and because he would agree with any statement you made ever for the rest of your lives. 

“Honey, you made it!” Camila shouted, coming over to hug you as you walked in. You greeted her warmly, and then did the same for everyone else standing around the kitchen helping to make dinner (or, really, getting in the way of Camila and Graham, who were the only ones actually cooking). 

Dinner was, as usual, the highlight of Warren’s day. After listening to Billy get grouchy and boss everyone around in the studio all day, getting to come home and actually unwind was a godsend. Plus, he got to see you, warm and pliant with wine and good food and good company. You were so effortlessly funny and charismatic, easily commanding the attention of the room with your stories and jokes without ever trying to. He could listen to you talk for the rest of his life. He could stand to do a lot of things with you for the rest of his life. 

After dinner, the group of you took the cookies you made and moved to the living room, settling in to watch a movie. You snuggled with Warren under a blanket on the loveseat, Eddie, Karen, Graham, and Camila squished into the old couch. Billy had retired to his room prior to the movie, citing that he needed to get some writing done. Graham had already fallen asleep, and Karen and Eddie were providing a running commentary of how bad the movie was. 

Warren nudged your side, and when you turned to look at him, he took a joint out of his pocket and tilted his head toward the door to the deck, a silent question. You nodded and he stood, you following close behind after wrapping the blanket around your shoulders. You didn’t see the exaggerated wink Eddie shot Warren’s way as you left the room, or the way Warren mimed slitting his throat in response, sending Eddie into a fit of laughter that he desperately tried to stifle. 

Outside, you settled into your usual chair, Warren pulling one up close to you before sitting down. You turned your body towards him, leaning your head on the back of the chair and gazing at him affectionately as he lit up the joint, and, as usual, offered it to you before himself. You took a hit before handing it back to him, settling back into your position of observing him as the joint went to his own mouth. 

“What are you lookin’ at, mama?” he asked, a mixture of curiosity and amusement gracing his face. 

You hummed, shrugging your shoulders noncommittally. “You should let me paint you sometime.” 

“Paint me? Why?” he asked, brows raising. 

“Because you’re pretty,” you said bluntly, Warren’s heart stumbled over itself. “You’d make a good muse.” 

Warren laughed, trying to steady himself. “You think I’m pretty?” 

You leaned toward him a bit more, a small, private smile on your face. “Of course I do, Warren. I’m sure dozens of other people have told you as much.”

“Not like this, no,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “And it wouldn’t mean anything coming from any but you, anyway.” Your brows raised, mouth dropping into a small, understanding ‘o’. Then you were smiling at him again, the corners of your eyes crinkling in a way that made his heart overflow. 

“Are you finally going to kiss me now?” you asked, and Warren choked, smoke emitting from his nose and mouth. 

“I- uh, yeah. Yeah, I am,” he stammered, shaking his head as vigorously as he could in his buzzed state. 

“Good,” you said, leaning over the arm of your chair. Warren crossed the rest of the distance himself, connecting his lips to yours. You led the kiss, firm and gentle, your thumb stroking reassuringly against his cheek. 

“So, about me painting you,” you said breathlessly once you pulled away. 

“Anything for you.I’d be honored to be your muse,” he grinned.

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[pinkdaiisies]

Why is the Warren Rojas x Reader Tag filled with Eddie Roundtree x Reader content🫠🫠🫠 guys please stop for the love of god it’s hurting my soul

[pinkdaiisies]

hi guys!! i’m taking requests for eddie roundtree and warren rojas!!!

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