#daisy jones ( from daisy jones & the six ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

viranellee · 1 year

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freak out on me

synopsis: your feelings for eddie come to a head.

warnings: slight angst (can you believe i didn't write porn without plot this time, me neither!), light smut, mention of drugs & alcohol

a/n: to the wonderful @atrimmunson!

~~~

In a world, a life and a band full of uncertainty, you knew at least one undeniably true fact about yourself - one-night stands are absolutely not your thing.

On the rare drunken evenings when you did welcome a stranger into your bed, you were quick to find out that the shitty, uncomfortable feeling in the middle of your chest the morning after overpowered any sense of pleasure you might have felt during the night. It varied from guilt to sadness to dissatisfaction to even anger. You weren't exactly sure why it happened, or what it meant, but you didn't let yourself linger on it for too long anyway. Like a good, responsible citizen of society, you decided to simply stay away from what you knew made you feel bad.

Despite your fellow bandmates finding your decision fairly strange at first, you stuck to it with such determination that they couldn't help but get used to your "self-induced celibacy", as Daisy had so affectionately called it one time. Every evening you drank a bit, you did a few lines here and there, and made out with whoever took your fancy. Afterwards, you returned to your hotel room and either practiced a bit on your bass guitar or just climbed into bed immediately.

Was it boring for a rockstar? Definitely. But it was a safe and comforting routine, one which you so unfailingly followed that nobody dared to try and disrupt it.

Well, until this morning.

The first thing you notice when you open your eyes is that the colour of the bedsheets is different from the ones you're used to. The first thing you feel is the soreness between your legs. The first thing you hear is the quiet snoring from someone behind you.

Holy shit, you think to yourself as panic starts to creep in, this isn't real. There's no way this is real.

You allow yourself to realize that, despite your growing anxiety, you feel good in a specific way that you've only felt after having been well fucked. It's a sensation you've only felt once or twice in your entire life and something you had nearly forgotten as you grew accustomed to the sheer mediocrity that was your sex life.

You try to dispel those thoughts from your mind as you turn around, trying to see who the sleeping, apparently good at sex man beside you might possibly be and gasp when you see the mop of light brown hair you've fantasized about running your hands through.

He has his back turned to you, but you recognize him immediately. After all, you've had a massive crush on Eddie since the moment he convinced you to join The Dunne Brothers as a bassist when Chuck left.

As your breathing picks up, you try to recall something, anything about last night. You turn your head around, hoping to see clothing on the floor so you'd at least remember what you were wearing. When your eyes land on your dress, a nude mini, and shoes, a pair of beige stiletto heels, the only memory from last night that manages to emerge is Karen complimenting you and telling you something about how Eddie's been looking at you all night.

After a couple minutes of failing to remember anything else, you sigh and run a hand over your face, deciding it'd be better for you to just wash your face with cold water and choose where to go from there.

You walk towards the bathroom, grabbing Eddie's shirt and half-hazardly putting it on, all the while slightly limping, which you can only guess is the result of your more than satisfactory late-night shenanigans with Eddie. You look down when you step on clothing half-hidden under the bed. In particular, Eddie's blazer.

And it all comes flooding back.

---

"Hey, how are you doin'?" Warren greets you good-naturedly from his place on the couch as soon as you enter his incredibly big hotel room, full of people mingling. "Is it just me or do you look sexier than usual?"

Before you can respond, Karen appears and wraps an arm around your waist, eyebrow raised at Warren.

"Back off, Rojas. She's mine." She tells the drummer, who defensively raises his hands in the air.

You laugh at the interaction as Karen turns to look at you.

"Seriously though, you look incredible. That dress is stunning." She tells you, smiling, and you return it.

"Thank you! Almost didn't wear it, but I'm glad you like it."

"Oh, trust me, I'm not the only one." Karen replies, smirking, as she subtly nods her head towards the other end of the room. You turn around and see Eddie, whose eyes widen when your gazes meet. He promptly resumes his conversation with Graham, cheeks slightly flushed.

You look him over, taking note of his dark red velvet blazer that hugs him in just the right places and the unbuttoned white shirt underneath which reveals just the right amount of skin, and you start feeling a little warmer yourself.

"He's been looking at you since you arrived." Karen elaborates, adding fuel to the fire, and you smile to yourself. Ever so perceptive, the keyboardist notices that too, and links her arm with yours, leading you to the drinks table. You can feel Eddie staring at you as you walk away and you have to put in an embarrassing amount of effort just to not trip on your own feet.

When Karen hands you a shot, you drink it immediately, hoping that the taste distracts you from even thinking about Eddie. It doesn't. In fact, it only heightens your senses to the point where all you can focus on is him. You steal glances at him when he isn't looking, silently admiring him until you lose track of time. Various people come up to you, at one point Karen leaves you alone for a bit to go talk to an old friend, and you really, truly don't know if it's been minutes, hours or millennia since this damn party started, but when you look up from your whiskey and see a girl touching Eddie's arm, flirtatiously laughing at something he said, everything snaps back into place. Suddenly, your dress is too short, your heels too uncomfortable, makeup too sticky, hair too tangled, and you feel like you can't breathe. You're drunk and the room is closing in around you.

You're at homecoming again, watching as the homecoming queen leaves with your date. You're at graduation, looking at your boyfriend of two years through teary eyes, as he tells you that he "just isn't feeling it anymore". You're at Warren Rojas's party, loving someone who will never love you back.

You stumble towards the balcony, wiping a lone tear from your cheek. Karen calls out after you, and you really don't want to ignore her like this, but your mouth isn't even capable of forming the words to tell her that you just need some air. You shakily wave a hand towards the direction her voice came from, trying to dismiss her worries, as you step out onto the balcony and feel the cold evening air hit your face.

You inhale sharply, choking on the wave of tears that had threatened to drown you just a second ago, greedily gulping the freezing breeze in hopes that it would kill the poison inside your stomach. Wrapping your naked arms around yourself, you look up towards the starry sky.

"I look like a mess." You mutter to yourself, voice hoarse although you've barely said anything all night.

You hear the sliding doors open and close behind you, and just as you're about to turn around and politely tell the intruder to piss off, a velvet blazer is being wrapped around you.

"Never." A familiar voice responds and your sluggish brain can barely process that the whole reason for your mini-breakdown in the first place is now in the cramped balcony space with you.

"Eddie, what are you doing here?" You question as you slowly turn around to face him.

He looks beautiful, you think for a moment,

but he isn't yours, a second voice berates you a beat later.

Eddie looks at you like you've just asked him what colour the sky was.

"You're upset." He puts it bluntly, eyes frantically looking over every part of your face, as if you being upset and him coming to your rescue correlate to each other whatsoever. As if it's a given.

You blink up at him. He reaches and wipes off a tear that escaped from the corner of your eye. You can feel the calluses on his fingers, the ones only a guitarist could have, the ones you have as well.

"Are you..." He swallows and his nervousness almost makes you smile. "Are you okay?"

You're tempted to lie the way you usually do when you're asked something like that.

"It doesn't matter." You brush his inquiry off instead, looking down at your feet and starting to pull his blazer off your shoulders. "Here's your-"

In the blink of an eye, the sides of your neck are being enveloped by warm hands and your head tilted upwards. Empty eyes meet urgent ones.

"I don't buy that for a second, don't give me that bullshit!" He tells you, desperation laced within anger, helplessness hidden underneath fury. "Don't, don't fucking shut me out again, the way you always do. I'm sick of it."

The air itself hisses back, responding on your behalf with a sudden, unforgiving breeze. Eddie's panting like he's been waiting centuries to say that, while you shiver in his hands.

"Don't act like you give a shit, Roundtree, because I know you don't." You tell him and his mouth opens slightly in surprise. "Don't act like you care."

He's so close to you that your foreheads almost touch.

"Well, I do care. A fucking lot, actually." He fires back and you sigh, closing your eyes.

"Why?" You simply ask, exhausted by the turn the conversation has taken, but you still allow yourself the liberty to bury your head in his chest. You wouldn't have done so normally, but the alcohol in your system makes you braver. He puts his head on top of yours and you feel his heart beating rapidly as he opens his mouth to speak.

"Will you freak out on me if I told you I love you?"

Your head snaps up so fast it’s a miracle your neck doesn’t break. Eddie is looking at you, lips parted and anxiety swimming in his eyes. You open your mouth and close it, like a fish out of water, unable to think, say or do anything at all.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, forget I even said anything, I’m probably drunk.” Eddie apologizes needlessly, shaking his head, interpreting your reaction as rejection and turns to leave.

You grab him by the collar of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks. Before he has the chance to apologize again, which you know he will, you kiss him. His lips are soft, softer than yours, and you suddenly realize that there’s no drug, no food, no man better than this. He stands still for a moment, in shock, but when your hands press against his chest, he grasps the sides of your face, leaning into the kiss.

You don’t know how long you stand there, kissing each other, but when you have to break apart for air, you force yourself to ask him a question instead of continuing to kiss him the way you want to.

“Are you serious? About loving me?”

Eddie smiles at you so brightly that the stars above don’t even hold a candle to him.

“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

---

"You look good wearing my shirt." His sleepy voice behind you compliments and you turn around to face him.

Half of his face is buried in the pillow, but it still makes your heart flutter. He reaches out towards you, opening his hand and closing it and you can only interpret it as him wanting you to come back to bed.

You comply, anxiety gone, and he rolls on his back, letting you lay your head down on his chest. He wraps an arm around your waist and you can feel him kiss your forehead.

"Eddie..." You start, one last question on your mind. "How exactly did we end up here?"

He turns to look at you, fingertips brushing back and forth against your skin.

"Well, uh, Billy almost caught us making out, and I suggested...taking things back to my room." He sums up and you blush at his choice of words. He doesn't seem to be as affected as you, a smug smirk pulling up the corner of his mouth. "You enjoyed yourself. I made sure of that."

You almost scoff at him, but you know he's telling the truth. The evidence is all over your body.

"Really?" You say, on the verge of smiling as you climb into his lap. His hands grab your hips to balance you with such casualness, you almost forget you kissed him for the first time yesterday. "I don't remember much. I was hoping you could refresh my memory."

As soon as the words fall out of your mouth, Eddie's sleepiness vanishes comically fast - in an instant, he's grabbing and kissing you. You thought it'd take a bit longer to convince him, but you aren't complaining at all.

You return the kiss immediately, and you're happy to find out that the feel of his lips is so much better when you're sober. Soon enough you can feel him hardening beneath you. You start taking off your (his) shirt, but he stops you.

"Don't. I want to have you like this." Eddie explains and starts kissing down your neck, rushing like he might die if he isn't touching your skin.

You're about to moan out his name as his hands slip underneath the shirt, gently scraping the skin with short nails, when the door opens.

"Eddie, man, you won't believe who I sa- Holy shit, I'm so sorry, Jesus Christ!"

---

WARREN ROJAS: That shit left me scarred for life. Should I have knocked? Yeah, I mean, probably. But man, was it traumatizing. [silence] I'm happy for them, though.

#daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the six #eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree x reader #karen sirko #warren rojas #graham dunne #billy dunne #daisy jones #djats #djats fic #eddie loving #eddie's a rhythm guitarist in this because i said so!!!!! free him from bass #warren always at the scene of the crime i swear

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