#warren rojas fic

[una-hopeless-romantic1118]

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

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

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

This chapter: Part 1 

Part 2  

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

(maybe??) epilogue

NO COPYING THANK YEW

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

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

disclaimer: THE READER AND WARREN MEET DURING THE BAND’S HIATUS. I HAVE NOT READ THE BOOK (BUT I AM PLANNING TO). I HAVE NO IDEA HOW THE STORY IS GOING TO GO. THIS IS JUST A CUTE LITTLE IMAGINE I VIVIDLY CAME UP W BC IM WATCHING THE SHOW AND I AM THIRSTY FOR THIS MAN + BC I AM MENTALLY ILL <3.   

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

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

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

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

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────• 

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

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

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

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

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

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

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

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

What the fuck did I do?

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

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

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

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

Or in his pants, Y/N shivered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That‘s not even his intention with her. But looking deep into her deep V halter top, he almost changed his mind.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” She teased.

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

Y/N’s eyebrows shoot up. 

This man doesn’t know who she is.

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

Maybe she could make something out of this weird interaction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He notices. “...What?”

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

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

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

Warren nods frantically. “Yes! Again, please, before I let this buddy of mine control me, only to end up catching a disease as a consequence.”

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

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

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

Warren erupts laughing at the joke.

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

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

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

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

interviewer: In what way?

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

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

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

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

“Nah.”

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

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

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

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

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

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

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

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

“What’s your name?”

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

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

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

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

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

So, I just kinda left them alone.

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

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

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

Warren’s grin only grows. “Do you?”

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

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

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

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

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

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

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

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

She can’t leave it like this.

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

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

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

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

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

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

THIS WAS SO FUN LOL

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

[reasonsmandy]

Señorita

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

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

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

✧.* warnings — anxiety symptoms and description

✧.* word count — 2.2k

✧.* 🥁 — warren's masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You really don't have to.”

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It's great to meet you Y/N”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don't understand what you mean.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don't care.”

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

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

...

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[i-hate-people-1]

My Warren Rojas fic

Complete!

Part one—

Part two—

Part three—

Part four—

[viranellee]

i know our mornings (were as good as it ever could be)

synopsis: eddie thinks he's doing a pretty good job at hiding his relationship with the youngest dunne sister. until he isn't.

warnings: smut, dirty talk, usage of alcohol & drugs, billy dunne

a/n: thank you so much for the love on the previous eddie post! this is shit but it's eddie smut and that's all that matters

⁠♡

It all happens so fast you think you’ve imagined it - one minute you’re snorting your (fourth, maybe fifth) line of coke and reaching for another glass of beer, and the next you’re being pulled by your belt loops until you can breathe in the fresh evening air through your slightly powdery nostrils. You’re still looking down at your feet, hands outstretched and trying to regain your balance, which is a surprisingly hard thing to do using a coked-up brain, when the mystery assailant, probably Billy, starts speaking. You sigh and brace yourself for yet another lecture.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Welp, that’s definitely not Billy. You don’t know if you should be happy about it or not.

You look up and meet Eddie’s eyes, his eyebrows so furrowed that the annoyed wrinkle between them is especially pronounced - you want to reach out and smooth it out with your fingers, you want to tell him that as hot as he looks when he’s pissed off, he shouldn’t be getting wrinkles this early on. You don’t do any of that.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You respond instead, putting a hand on your hip with such force that you make yourself stumble a little bit. In the blink of an eye, Eddie is holding you by the waist, concerned, and you pray to every single entity out there to just make the goddamn sequin dress separating your bodies disappear into thin air, simply to feel his large hands against your skin. “I’m having fun.”

Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh and tilts your head upward, cleaning up the cocaine residue around your nose. A part of you finds it weirdly cute.

“Too much fun.” He tells you and you shake your head.

“I’ve seen you do, like, six lines one after another. You can’t just lecture me when you do the exact same thi-”

“That’s because I’m used to it, I can handle it.” Eddie interrupts, grabbing you by the chin gently. He’s looking at you right in the eyes, wanting to drive his point home, but all you can focus on is his lips. “You could barely handle a shot of whiskey before and now you’re drinking and doing lines like you’ve done it all your life.”

You roll your eyes, although you understand what he’s trying to say.

“Eds, just leave me alone. I’m not going to die or somethin’. I’m just having fun.” You defend yourself, but the hiccups in-between your words do absolutely nothing to convince the man in front of you.

In fact, something flashes in his eyes. It’s a look you see rarely, but one you recognize as the look he gets when he sets his mind to something. You don’t get to dwell too much on it, because he’s crouching and picking you up, and before you know it, you’re thrown over his shoulder with such ease it makes something at the bottom of your stomach flutter.

“Eddie, put me down, now! What are you doing!?” You protest and hit his back with your fists as hard as you can, waving your legs in the air. He doesn’t even flinch and instead places a hand on your calf and squeezes, a gesture you can only interpret as “calm the fuck down” - and something in you listens, despite the drugs and liquors in your system screaming at you to keep acting bratty.

You vaguely recognize Warren’s wolf-whistling at the pair of you, but you don’t pay him any attention - by the time he’s asked for your room key at the reception desk in that deep voice that drives you crazy and you’re in the luxurious elevator, you’re already half-asleep but still have enough leftover energy to complain.

"Can you put me down now? You’ve proved your point.”

In response, Eddie’s hand moves higher up your leg, slipping underneath your dress. You can feel yourself blushing as he starts drawing circles on your inner thigh.

“Hm, I really don’t think I have, sweetheart.” He tells you and you want to strangle him for knowing exactly what buttons to push to make you speechless.

The rest of the elevator ride is spent in torturous silence, as he absentmindedly drags his fingers across your skin and you stubbornly hold in your whimpers and gasps, because you’d rather die on the spot than have him know how sensitive his touch makes you.

Only he can make me feel like this, you think to yourself in a striking moment of clarity.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally arrive at your floor. Eddie confidently walks towards your room and opens it - as soon as the door closes, he strides over to the bed and gently drops you onto it. You’re looking at the ceiling, thinking about nothing and everything at the same time, as he removes your heels. When he stands up and kisses your forehead, ready to leave so you could get some sleep, you grab him by the collar.

Sleep is the last thing on your mind right now.

You kiss him hard, and he responds immediately - you feel his heart thumping when your chests press against each other, and you’re pretty sure he can feel yours too. He moans into your mouth when you tug on his hair and you feel like you’re on the brink of getting what you want - except, he pulls away from you. You look at him, confused, and when you reach out to try and bring his face towards you, he grabs your wrists in one hand.

“You’re drunk, sweetheart. We can’t.” He explains and you want to cry. Why did he have to be so thoughtful?

“But I want you.” You try and he just smiles at you, wide and toothy, as he stands up. You catch his hand. “Can you…can you at least sleep next to me? We don’t have to do anything, I just..."

He turns to look at you and you see surprise painted across his features. You open your mouth to take it back, tell him you don’t know what you’re talking about, play it off as the drugs talking, but he’s already dropping his jacket on the ground and getting into bed with you before you get the chance to say anything.

He opens his arms, inviting you to come closer and you gladly take the invitation.

"You're cold." You tell him when you lay your head on his chest and feel him wrapping his arms around you. He smells like cigarettes and citrus. It’s your favorite smell in the world.

“You’re hot.” He responds, grinning as he kisses the top of your head, and you giggle.

It’s the last thing you remember before you fall asleep.

—

You wake up horny. Not unusual by any means, considering you fell asleep horny and next to Eddie. Still, you know you can't ignore it for long.

As your eyes adjust to the sunlight pouring in through the windows, you feel Eddie, still asleep, wrapping a long arm around your waist and pulling you towards his chest. His gentle hums do nothing except fuel the growing need in you to have him. You decide to do just that.

Careful not to wake him, you slowly move down his body and when you reach the part you're craving the most, you greedily undo his belt like you're opening a Christmas present. You pull his jeans and boxers down at the same time, impatient, and immediately get to work.

You run your tongue from the tip to the base, savoring the shiver you receive in response. You do that a couple of times but as soon as you take him in your mouth, Eddie gasps and you know you've woken him up, because you feel a hand in your hair.

"Shit, baby, good mornin' to you too." He laughs and the rasp in his voice makes you throb.

You take him in deeper, tracing the vein in his shaft with your tongue and Eddie practically howls. Biting his lip, he buries his other hand in your hair too as the sounds of your gagging and his moaning overlap.

"I love this fucking mouth on my cock." He breathes out. "God, I can't get enough of you. Come 'ere."

You shake your head as you press open-mouthed kisses down the shaft.

"No, I want you to cum in my mouth." You declare stubbornly and he swears out loud at your words.

"I'll cum in that pretty little mouth as much as you want me to, but I need to be inside of you right now, baby, please." He almost begs and you look at him beneath your eyelashes.

He's panting heavily, his bottom lip slightly bloody because he bit it too hard, brown eyes glazed over and hair splayed out on the pillow beneath his head like a halo. He looks like a mess and it's the prettiest thing you've ever seen.

Well, how can you say no to that?

You crawl towards him and he grabs the dress you've slept in from yesterday and pushes it up your body, hastily trying to remove it. You help him and soon, the dress is a mere clothing item on the floor. Left in only your underwear, he licks his lips as his eyes look you over. If it was anyone else, you would have felt like a piece of meat being ogled at, but his look only turns you on even more.

You tug on his shirt, wanting it off, and he complies immediately.

As you climb into his lap and undo your bra, Eddie watches, mesmerized, when you start grinding on his cock like a woman starved, your tits bouncing along with every movement. In an attempt to tease him, you reach out to play with your nipples, but he smacks your hands away, shoves his face in your chest and starts worshiping your tits with such vigor you think you can cum from this alone.

"Eddie! Oh!" You mewl and he groans in response, tugging your underwear down your thighs. He rubs a finger against your folds and your head gently knocks against his when his finger glides right inside of you.

"So fuckin' warm and tight and all for me. Only for me." Eddie whispers, kissing your neck. You nod, burying your fingers in his tangled hair.

"Only for you. Always for you." You whisper in his ear and he exhales sharply, relieved, like he's being told something he never once thought would be true.

You don't even notice when one finger has become two, and two has become three in your haze of pleasure until Eddie pushes you down onto the bed, looking at you like you've hung the moon and stars. You smile at him and pull his face down to kiss him, and you can feel him chuckling against your lips. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you melt in his embrace. In response, Eddie grabs your hips, something you've noticed he really likes doing, and carefully enters you. You open your mouth in a silent scream, and he groans loudly, squeezing you so hard you're sure he'll give you yet another pair of bruises. You don't mind though, not at all.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

"Very much am, Roundtree."

---

"What did you just say?"

Warren laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"Look man, I don't fuckin' know, all I'm saying is that I saw them leaving together."

It's quiet in the breakfast hall as Billy ponders on what to do.

"I get that she's our little sister, but she's grown up now. Even if she is, y'know, sleeping with him, why should that matter? I mean, it's Eddie, do you really think he'd do anything to hurt her?" Graham argues, gesturing with the utensils in his hands as he speaks.

Daisy and Karen nod in agreement.

"He's got a point, you know. I really don't think it's that big of a deal. They've got the hots for each other for a while now, too, it's only natural." Karen adds and Billy's mouth turns into a tight line as he death glares the uneaten toast on his plate.

"Good morning everyone!" Eddie greets his band members when you and him enter, suspiciously cheerful. Billy's glare only becomes more hateful.

"Morning." He greets with gritted teeth, carefully observing the way Eddie gallantly pulls out your chair first, before sitting on his own. Everyone else around him also seems to notice, if Daisy and Karen's quiet giggles and Warren and Graham clearing their throats were any indication.

"Aren't you going to get breakfast?" Graham questions and you smile innocently back at him.

"Nope, I've already eaten." You respond and Eddie adds a "I'm very full, actually."

Awkward silence descends on the table for a moment before Roy arrives as well.

"Hey, Roundtree." He starts, an accusatory finger pointed at the bassist's neck. "What kind of vampire were you fooling around with? Jesus Christ, son, look at the size of that thing."

A beat passes as Graham chokes on his water.

"Roundtree, you fucking son of a bitch, I'll kill you."

---

BILLY DUNNE: The prick was fucking my sister behind my back. Of course I decked him.

KAREN SIRKO: And people call women the emotional ones.

WARREN ROJAS: Dude, I thought I was hallucinating, for real.

DAISY JONES: So overdramatic.

GRAHAM DUNNE: [sighs]

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Worth it. [smiles]

[its-vannah]

Rojas | Warren Rojas x Reader

A/N: This is TV storyline, not book storyline.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs and alcohol

Eddie: As much as we'd all like to think that Warren was this laid-back, freespirit, there's a part of him that had been broken and taped back together so many times that he never really showed anybody. He just hid it with drugs.

Graham: It really hurt him when Y/N stayed back.

Warren: God, I haven't heard that name in years. Y/N? Y/N L/N? 28 Birchwood avenue, Pittsburg, Pennsylvania? Yeah, I remember her.

Graham: He was infatuated with her.

Eddie: He meant everything to her.

Warren: She meant a lot to me. I mean, of course she did, I almost married her.

Camila: Warren made me stand in the bushes by his house with a camcorder in my hand so I could get the proposal on tape. It turned out good, except for the part when he forgot I was there and started making out with her.

Warren: I picked out a ring and everything. The band didn't know this, but I worked odd jobs on the side. One week I was cleaning someone's gutters and the next I was mowing a lawn, another I was dog sitting. It took me months to save up for a decent ring.

Y/N L/N: Of course I remember Warren. He was the first man I ever loved. I still love him.

Warren: She came to every gig we ever played. Every single one. That is, until we left for LA. I asked her to come with me, but she was still in school.

Graham: We were so proud of her for getting into college. We still are, honestly. Look, I'm happy that I pursued music. Nothing will ever change that. But there's something about going to college that just... I don't know, it sounds right.

Warren: She said she'd meet up with me after she graduated. That was another three years away. But I was willing to wait, and so was she. I promised to call every day and visit when I could.

Y/N: Warren knew how to say all of the right things. And it's not like he was lying, he believed what he was saying. He just didn't always follow through, even if he intended to.

Warren: I called her at the same time every day. Four o'clock. Before we had a gig and after she had school.

Y/N: Everything was fine at first. Then he started going a day or two without calling. That was okay, I knew he was busy. But those days turned into four, then six, then a week. The longest it went was two, three weeks without a single call.

Eddie: I answered the phone one time. She called at the same time every day, so I knew who it was. Warren was on his ass, high and drunk. He couldn't make it to the phone.

Y/N: I asked Eddie to tell Warren to call me when he got the chance. That I needed to talk to him.

Warren: I did call the next day, with a bad hangover. I had a lot of explaining to do.

Y/N: I was not happy when I found out how he had been spending his time.

Warren: She wasn't happy when she found out I was getting high and drinking myself to sleep every night.

Y/N: Drugs, alcohol, you name it, he probably did it or tried it. He knew better than to get into another woman's pants. I would've come up there myself.

Warren: Never cheated though. Point for Warren, I never stooped that low.

Y/N: I told him to get his shit together. Just because two people are apart doesn't mean they can make reckless decisions.

Warren: I thought she hated me. I felt like shit. She was the love of my life.

Y/N: I told him that if he didn't watch it, he'd lose himself, the band, and me.

Warren: I cut back on everything after that. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoyed weed. I just did it in moderation. Same with the beer.

Y/N: I was proud of him.

Warren: I finally got to see her again when we started going on tour.

Y/N: He got to see me and a positive pregnancy test.

Warren: Turns out, we weren't as careful as we thought.

Y/N: You would've thought he had won the lottery when I told him.

Warren: Warren Rojas Jr...

Y/N: I chose the name. And it was a girl.

Warren: Emilia Warren Rojas...

Y/N: Emilia Lynn Rojas. Everyone called her Em, except for Graham, Eddie, and Warren. Graham and Eddie called her Emi, and Warren called her Warren. My dumbass of a fiance.

Warren: We went everywhere together. The store, backstage, front row of concerts, up the stairs to Y/N's house. She was my little best friend.

Y/N: It was love at first sight. But by the time I moved to LA, the band had split up.

Warren: I missed the music, but I spent my time on boats. It's where I was happy. With my wife and my daughter.

Y/N: We did get married, eventually. I just kept my last name for business reasons, and for privacy. But I guess that's all out the window now. Marry a hall of Fame inductee and your privacy is a window. You have none.

Warren: Warren Jr loved being the center of attention.

Y/N: Em was her father's daughter, she still is. Took up the drums. Back in the day, it wasn't common to see a woman on the drums. They usually stuck to vocals or the keyboard, sometimes the guitar. But not our Em.

Warren: Our son was born a few years later.

Y/N: I was high on pain killers when Warren named our son Theodore Graham. I had agreed to the names separately, not together. Because I knew what was going to happen.

Warren: My little Teddy Graham. She liked the names, just hated the fact that everyone called him the nickname I picked out. Said it reminded her of the cracker. That was the point, though.

Y/N: "C'mon, hot stuff, I want to honor my friends legacies" my ass. It was for that damn nickname.

Warren: She loves it, she just doesn't admit it.

Y/N: Horrible taste in names, but he's all mine.

Warren: Teddy Graham wound up being just like his mama.

Y/N: He likes to try and make me feel better by saying that Teddy is just like me. But I'm an honest person. Both of them are their father made over. It made vacations fun.

Warren: I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Y/N: He's a good husband, always has been. He's an even better dad.

Theodore "Teddy Graham" Rojas, son of Warren and Y/N Rojas: My parents made me into who I am today. My mom definitely did the disciplining and made sure we stayed in school, while dad was letting us sneak into the kitchen at two in the morning to make cookies.

Y/N: I knew everything they did. Playing guitar at midnight when I was in bed on a school night, baking at two, eating junk while I was away on business trips. I just let it slide. They were kids, they deserved to have fun and let loose. It just blows my mind to think I have one out of the house and another a year away from graduating high school.

Emilia Rojas, daughter of Warren and Y/N Rojas and lead drummer of Shortcircut: I was a daddy's girl growing up, still am. But the older I get, the more I appreciate my mom. I've always loved her, but being in her shoes today, I'm unbelievably grateful for her. We talk almost every day now.

Y/N: I'm proud of Warren and the kids. They pushed the limits. I realize they that were privileged to have a father who was in the industry, but they really did this all on their own. We got them lessons, they put themselves out there. Em is touring right now, and Teddy is at home playing his heart out. I'm telling you, just like their father.

Warren: Em and Teddy both have that fire in them like their mother, something I don't think she realizes. They're a lot more like her than she knows.

Y/N: Oh, to be with a Rojas.

Warren: I'll be kissing the ground she walks on for as long as I live—I'm never letting that one go.

[a-asterias]

— micaela's march recs

ty to all these amazing writers who have left me with butterflies in my stomach and/or tears rolling down my face, much appreciated <3

LOCKWOOD AND CO.

— anthony lockwood.

the language of longing by @fleetingvow

midnight talks by @websterss

↳ cuddle comfort

AVATAR

— neteyam.

tell me it's not true by @sullybby

MARVEL

— matt murdock.

paper rings by @sunflowerdjarin

i broke my heart for you by @atlaese

— bucky barnes.

little lion man by @wkemeup

↳ graveyard

— druig.

love me harder by @fireinmoonshot

GRISHAVERSE

— nikolai lantsov.

it looks better on you by @goldengoddess

pretty privateer by @magpiencrow

loving you is the antidote by @sumsebien

unbearable by @holden-caulfield

↳ a special occasion

speechless by @fishley

i'd choose you by @xsamsharons

↳ come here often?

↳ moi tsarevich

— kaz brekker.

inflicted desire by @meadowscarlet

DAISY JONES AND THE SIX

— warren rojas/rhodes.

rhythm of our love by @mlwriting5

pretty lady by @hellogeegee

HARRY POTTER

— fred weasley.

please don't touch the artwork by @writesowhatnext

— george weasley.

pretending is a gateway drug by @writesowhatnext

↳ it's so mysterious to me

↳ we're only getting older, baby

— theodore nott.

our secrets are burried shallow by @acosmis-t

MARAUDERS

— james potter.

saudade by @embrassemoi

a moment in the library by @heloisedaphnebrightmore

— sirius black.

the worst wingman by @theweasleysredhair

— remus lupin.

if it wasn't for you meddling kids by @writesowhatnext

the girl with the books by @solemnarration

BRIDGERTON

— benedict bridgerton.

spare me a moment? by @iliveiloveiwrite

— anthony bridgerton.

brilliant plan by @heloisedaphnebrightmore

OUTER BANKS

— rafe cameron.

plastic plants by @pogueszn

i need a favor by @magpiencrow

[creepycrawliesanonymous]

a/n this is way too long, it started as a blurb and then the spirit of the reader-insert goddess possessed me and this is what I have to show for it, totally could've been longer but I restrained myself, so if the masses want a part two just shoot the message my way

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had a feeling most people your age would be more excited about the prospect of sharing a house with an up-and-coming rock band in Los Angeles. Perhaps you yourself were more excited leading up to your move, packing up your bare essentials and your typewriter, sipping a cocktail in the smoking section of the plane, listening to David Bowie in the taxi over to the house. And what a house it was! You were given the run-down over the phone by the woman who put the listing out, Camila Something (never great with the last names, you were), not put off by the alleged haunted-ness of the house. If anything, the various ghosts and ghouls would serve as inspiration for your screenplay. There was not much that could dampen your spirits at this point, lugging your bags towards the front door and rapping your knuckles on the wood.

Except, of course, the obvious.

Moving from your parents' house to a college dorm had been, as you recall, a bit of a shock to the system. If that was the case then, it was nothing compared to moving into the closet-like space that was the remaining bedroom. You had gotten an apologetic smile from Camila... Alv- shit, Alvaro? It was leaving your head already. You felt bad, she had been nice enough to welcome you into the house and shown you to your shoebox of a living space.

"None of the boys wanted this room, so you should be left alone most of the time. Warren swears it's the epicenter for all the ghosts...," she nervously chuckled, "and whatnot." You took a nibble of the chocolate-chip cookie she gave you. "So just, take all the time you need to settle in, the group is out rehearsing for a gig tonight so you'll be on your own for dinner." She paused. "Unless you'd like to come see them, which would be more than fine! They're all so excited to meet you, especially Karen I think. She's been dying for some more estrogen in the house, me as well."

You swallowed. "I think I'll just stay in tonight, thank you." You cringed at yourself as she visibly faltered.

"No problem, uh, there's some leftover beer and pizza in the fridge if you get hungry, just help yourself to whatever you need." She was a saint, you thought, taking whatever awkwardness you possessed in stride. She even helped carry in your bag, setting it carefully on your twin bed. You insisted on taking in your typewriter yourself. It now lived on one of the cardboard boxes in the corner of your room, presumably left over from the group's initial move. "I'll get Billy to move those."

"It's fine." You had no desk. This was actually preferable to writing on the floor.

Camila gave you one last warm smile before returning back to the living room. You waited until she was out of earshot, stood up, and closed the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were on your own late into the night, into the small hours of the morning. Camila had left the house at around 8:30, after which you snuck out of your room to rummage through the fridge. True to her word, there was a box of pizza within the fridge, with two slices remaining. Considering you were now sharing a place with four boys, this seemed like a small miracle to you. You ate both of them cold, sitting at the dining room table. While you ate, you took the time to take in your surroundings.

The kitchen, frankly, was not in the best shape. Pots and dishes piled up in the sink and the counters looked like they needed a serious scrubbing. The living room had beer bottles littering the floor, and the couch looked distinctly tread on.

You took another bite of your frozen pizza. This would do just nicely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tired from your day of travel (and the handful of plane cocktails you had ingested) you retired to your bed relatively early. It would seem in this house, early meant any time before 2 a.m., and on-time would be closer to 4, which was around the time you were startled awake by a car pulling up and a small crowd of people piling through the backdoor into the kitchen.

"I swear there was pizza left over this morning."

"Eddie, we have a new roommate." That was Camila. "She needs to eat, too."

"Yeah, where is she?" A British voice piped up, moving from the kitchen roughly towards the living room. "Don't tell me she's in bed already."

"Just because you rock-and-rollers like to stay up doesn't mean everybody does," Camila laughed out. "Speaking of which, I'm beat. I'll see you all tomorrow."

"Right behind you." A deeper voice sounded, and two sets of footsteps walked off presumably to their bedroom. You suspected that was Billy.

"Should we go find her?" You felt as if your spine had been doused in cold water.

"Don't be stupid." British again. Someone moved around the living room, a record needle scratched and the quiet sounds of Credence Clearwater Revival started playing throughout the room.

The house started to mellow out after that; you expected the rest of them went to bed, and the ones that stayed out were smoking. It was at that moment that your bladder started to call for your attention in earnest. Weighing your options, you decided venturing out of your bedroom would be less treacherous than pissing your bed on your first night.

The journey to the bathroom you managed to avoid other people, it was the journey back that you slipped up. There was only one person in the living room, and there was only one of you in the hallway, so there was no mistaking that when he was waving, he was waving at you. To make matters worse, he was strikingly handsome, and you were deeply sleepy. Before you could stop yourself, you waved back. He held up the joint he was smoking in your direction. You shook your head. He gave you an exaggerated pout, wiping an invisible tear off his cheek. Not totally convinced that what was happening to you was real, you quietly slunk off back to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a small window in your room, the sill lined with small potted plants. The morning sun beamed through that window, casting a glowing light onto your bed. You reached your hand around looking for your pillow to throw over your head, prying your eyes open to see it lying on the floor next to your headboard. Groaning, you sat up, resigning yourself to the morning.

The house was quiet. 9 a.m. was evidently too early for anybody except you to be awake. You tiptoed your way into the kitchen, searching for a loaf of bread or an oatmeal pack. What didn't escape your notice, was the man sleeping soundly on the coach in the living room. The same man, you saw, that your had encountered last night. In the morning light you were able to get a better look at him. You were right to see that he was handsome, with his curly brown hair and his strong nose. Taking a bite of your buttered bread, you let yourself stare at him for just a few moments. Too many moments, in fact. You realized this when suddenly the boy on the couch was staring back at you.

"You didn't come smoke with me last night."

At that moment, you felt more empathy for deers in headlights than any other living soul on the planet.

"Good morning."

"Is it?" He looked over to the windows streaming in light. He beamed. "It is."

You hurried back to your room, the piece of bread squished within your clenched fist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your first few weeks you spent writing. It was very clear that you kept a very different schedule from everyone else in the house, except for maybe Camila. By virtue of being the only two in the house for long stretches of the day, she was the one in the house that you became the closest to the fastest. In the afternoons she would encourage you to bring your typewriter out into the dining room to keep her company while she poured over photographs from the night before. You would both slip into a comfortable silence, save for the clacking of your keys.

When you weren't writing you were watching TV. Camila had gotten Billy to drive you downtown along with a list of groceries, where you purchased for yourself the smallest television set you could find. While Billy and you said the equivalent of about three sentences to each other that trip, he had carried it into the house for you and even helped set it up in your room. The tiny screen sat in the corner on top of one of the cardboard boxes, consistently tuned to CBS so you could watch re-runs of Scooby Doo.

There was another television set in the living room. It was slightly bigger than yours, too. Maybe it even got more channels. You didn't use it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Camila greatly appreciated your company. She adored the band that she lived with, and she loved Billy with all her heart, but she couldn't deny that uprooting herself from Pittsburgh and moving across the country wasn’t an easy change. Putting out ads looking for a roommate, while being somewhat financially motivated (only so much pocket toast could be eaten by one household), was, perhaps subconsciously, a yearning for companionship, for a friend to fill the hours where the house would otherwise be empty.

And she adored you. You may have been a tough nut to crack, she slowly but surely got you to open up, got you talking about films coming out that you wanted to see, your childhood dog that would puke all over your room, your favorite classes in high school. The little things that were once guarded under layers of uncertainty and self-isolation. She would ask for your opinions on the photos she took, and you would ask her about your word choice. Before heading out for the night, she would always ask you if you wanted to come with, and she was sure she was getting closer and closer to the day you would say yes.

She was also pretty sure you had a thing for Warren. Like, 99.8% sure.

You never brought him up. She started dropping his name in your daily conversation, and would watch as your fingers would still on the keys of your typewriter. You would stutter for a few seconds before taking a breath and composing yourself, nervously glancing over at her to make sure she didn't notice. She never gave you any indication that she did, but of course she noticed.

She also noticed how Warren would scan the audience every night from behind his drum kit, and how his face would subtly fall when he couldn't spot you. Or how he started nagging the group to go home earlier than usual, and would drag his feet a little more in the early afternoons before leaving for rehearsals. The final straw on the camel's back came when he had bought a tiny ceramic kitten and asked her to give it to you.

"She likes cats, right?" It was close to three in the morning when he had cornered her in the kitchen, holding up the small black cat in the light of the oven lamp. "It seemed like something she'd like."

"You know, you can be asking her these questions yourself."

"I don't wanna spook her." He shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Playing the long game, huh?"

"I've got time." He froze, eyes slowly widening. "I mean, I don't know what you're talking about."

She plucked the cat from his hands, patting him on the shoulder. "Go to bed, Rojas."

She slid the cat over to you the next morning while you were eating your cereal.

"What is this?" You gingerly picked it up.

"It's from Warren." You quickly set it back down. "It's for you."

You don't think your face has ever been hotter than it was that day. The cat lived on you windowsill, next to the potted plants. Every time you watered you felt a warmness blooming in your chest, running a finger delicately over its head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, you know what channel M*A*S*H airs on, right?"

On a rare day off, the band had settled in around the television in the living room; Camila and Billy sharing the chair in the corner, Graham and Karen lying over each other on the floor, with Eddie perched on the stool in front of the set, his hand on the dial. Warren had spread himself out on the couch, lying down comfortably smoking a joint.

"Uh, yeah." You paused in the doorway. "Yeah, sorry, uh, it's on CBS."

"Great, thanks." Eddie fiddled around with the set before standing up. "Are you gonna join us? I mean, you can join us if you want to."

"Oh, um," you're eyes wildly scanned the room for any hint of disapproval. They landed on Warren, who was hazily looking at you with an easy smile on his face. "Yeah, sure."

"Warren, move your legs," Camila spoke from across the room. Still looking at you, Warren lifted his legs off the couch, inviting you to sit down. As you took your seat, he lowered his legs back down on your lap. He held out the joint, in a movement reminiscent of your first encounter. Never not one for consistency, you shook your head. He shrugged and stuck the joint back between his lips, turning his attention to Alan Alda on the TV. Unsure of what to do with your hands, you tentatively rested them on his calves. You didn't notice, but right next to you the corners of Warren's mouth ever so subtly turned upwards.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

M*A*S*H, as groundbreaking of a show as it was, was not enough to hold the attention of 7 adults for an extended amount of time. Camila left the group first, but not before dropping you a wink as she left the room. Slowly but surely, the rest of the group left to go putter around in their respective corners of the house, before it was just you and Warren, who had finished his joint and transitioned to laying his head in your lap. His face was looking up towards you, but his eyes were closed, looking so relaxed he reminded you of a cat showing their belly. Not fully aware of yourself, you had rested one of your hands on the side of his waist, while the other was running through his hair. The scene was so intimate you were practically choking on it.

"Will you come to our show this weekend?"

Your hand stilled.

"Hmm?"

"I'd like you to, if you want to." He reached his hand up to yours, nudging it to get you to resume your petting. "I'll buy you dinner afterwards."

"You don't need to do that."

He cracked open his eyes, his face splitting into a grin.

"Girlie, I'll take you to dinner any night that you let me."

You barked out a laugh despite yourself. You felt like you were dreaming. He started giggling, too.

"I will!" His thumb was rubbing the meat of your forearm, drawing small circles on your skin. "I'll get you another little cat, too. My finances aren't robust but I'll find a way." The heart eyes he was sending your way were overwhelming.

"I- okay!"

"Really?" Warren sat up, eyes scanning your face, grinning wildly. Not trusting your voice, you nodded emphatically. Looking slightly awestruck, he reached over and cupped your face. "You won't regret this, honey. I'm gonna treat you so well." Someone called him from another room, and reluctantly he let go of you. Subconsciously you started reaching for him. As he stood up, he leaned over and took your hands in his, kissing your knuckles.

"I'm gonna name a boat after you!"

After he left the room, you breathed out a holy cow, and then another quiet chuckle.

Warren Rojas was gonna be the death of you, and you were counting on it.

[ladystardust-thinks]

soul of a woman was created below - w.r.

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

[thisuserlovesyou]

you have to appreciate that The Six is not a modern band. Billy would have laid his eyes upon one (1) daisy/billy fanfic and it would have sent him over the edge.

[accidrainonme]

i just want an eddie roundtree x reader fanfic inspired by gold dust woman (fleetwood mac) please i’m begging 🙏

[harrie-fic-center]

warren rojas

i'd have you anytime by coneyislandbabey

rhythm of our love by mlwriting5

rule breaker by mlwriting5

you're the hottest girl alive by reasonsmandy

[una-hopeless-romantic1118]

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐕: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬?—𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐨𝐣𝐚𝐬/𝐑𝐡𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬

a/n: thank you THANK YOU guys for so much for the love lately. writing abt warren for yall and reading your guys' comments has been such a serotonin boost. I LOVE YOU ALL <333

timeline: ep. 3 + Christmas scene (kinda...)

-> Part 1

-> Part 2  

-> Part 3

This chapter: Part 4

Part 5

Epilogue (cancelled)

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

warnings: not proofread as always <3, cursing, first Billy mention, angst (turned to fluff calm down), drinking, confusing time progression, implied sex teehee

summary (of this chapter): a visit to Laurel Canyon simply to talk to a friend and drop off a personally made outfit to a special costumer, ended in confessions and closures.

(if that didn't make sense, dammit just read the chapter)

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Warren's either on something, or..." Eddie snickered at the offended Warren, "...yeah. Heh."

"I'm telling the truth, man!" Warren threw his hands up in frustration. "Guys, seriously."

"Warren, man, how do you expect us to react?" Graham took a swig of his beer. "It's just not...believable."

"We want proof." Eddie challenged him.

"Like what?" Warren scoffed. "What-What do you want me to show you guys?"

"You're creative man, I dunno, her bra?"

Warren leaned forward like he wasn't sure he heard his friend correctly. "Her bra?" He repeated. It triggered a nerve he didn't know could be triggered.

"There," Graham pointed at Warren's visible provoked tone. "That was enough proof. If he doesn't have it, then he never did it."

"Or!" Warren scoffed at both of his friends. "This is something I don't want to mess up. This is something new to me, and so far I think I have a good chance of getting something real. We kissed. We hung out. We laugh about things. I get her. I didn't have to do it."

A moment of silence and unsure glances were shared between the two friends, until the image of the woman and Warren talking to one another at that yacht party submerged from Graham's drunken and sluggish thoughts.

"Woah woah woah," He pushed himself to sit up. "What about Flora, the girl from the yacht party? You were just hooked on her."

Warren's lips immediately spread into a prideful grin. "That is her."

"Y/N Augustine...is Flora...?" Eddie frowned into space.

"Yeah!"

Only laughter erupted from the two drunk men, in turn making Warren grow more impatient with them.

"Fuck you guys, where's Karen?"

"Oh okay." Eddie shook his hands mockingly. "As if Karen will believe you any better."

Warren enters the house, almost tumbling over Camilla crouched down to the babbling Julia.

She noticed his tensed up presence. "Hey, War," she smiled up at him, "something wrong?"

"Nah, don't worry about it," he waved her off, clearly distracted. "Where's Karen? I need her to back me up for something."

"She's out by the front, I think," she squints through the sunlight seeping through the window. “She said not to bother her, though.”

A figure comes in through the front door, but it was just Billy, much to Warren's disappointment.

"Hey man, is Karen talking to somebody out there?"

Billy furrows his eyebrows at him. "Yeah, but I wouldn't...want to interrupt."

"I just need to steal her for a minute."

"Warren, she's kind of important." He warned. "I wouldn't-"

Warren took it as a further indicator that the guest was Y/N. Karen couldn't possibly know anyone else as famous. He marches past him to the door, and when he swings it open to find Karen gathered on a table with the familiar woman sipping tea together, he instantly rushes to them.

Karen sees the black-haired figure she feared would eventually come and interrupt her time with her friend, and she couldn't help but groan out.

"Will anyone just give be a bloody minute to have things to myself? I mean, fuck!"

"Hello ladies," Warren greeted anyways as he stood in front of them. He waves at Y/N peering up at him through her pink-tinted sunglasses. His hands twitched at the sight of her in a purple see-through kind of cloth for her puffy long sleeves, her white bra visible. "Hey."

Karen took note of the way Warren's usual composure to be nonchalant suddenly sloughed off at the sight of Y/N. He actually seemed tense, and clammy, and giddy all at the same time.

"Hi."

And Karen took note of Y/N's. Her normal response to push away any means of flirting was suddenly forgotten at the sight of Warren's cheeky smile. Her "migraine" from having to work with a well-known celebrity who turned out to be a complete bitch from a few hours ago suddenly disappeared, seeing as now she was grinning up at him.

 •─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Karen: There was this...excruciatingly flirty tone in their voices. It was annoying for me to be the one to witness it.

But it was adorable how vulnerable they made each other, even from that simple greeting. Mind you, I didn't know what was going on between the pair. And everything about the way they looked at each other that day seemed...innocent. Pure, if you will.

Well, yes, I sent Warren to her condo so that I didn't have to explain to the poor guy that Y/N Augustine was messing with him the whole time. I sent him there because I knew she needed someone like him, and I knew he needed her too, in the best way.

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

"You sound like you're in a rush, War," Karen faked a smile. "Why don't you get on with it so you're not wasting our time?"

Warren frowns down at her. "I mean, I was going to ask to borrow here politely, but I think I'm just going to take her now."

"Mm," Y/N hummed. "I love being objectified."

"Sorry baby," Warren apologized, squeezing her bare shoulders. "I got some stubborn friends who don't believe I've gone more than 6 feet of you. Gotta humiliate them. You like humiliating people, why don't we make this a date?"

"I'm sorry, did I miss something?" Karen gagged, pointing to the both of them. "I don't like this."

"Too bad, Sirko-"

"No, she's right." Y/N retorted. "I didn't agree to anything. I only came here for this." She reached below her seat for the red, shiny box, and Warren's eyes widen like saucers.

He lets out what sounded like a high-pitched scream, and a gasp at the same time. "For me? Aw, baby..." His eyes set on her admiringly. "You shouldn't have!"

Warren should've seen the incoming sarcastic remark a mile away. "Are you kidding me?! Of course I had to! I mean, I lost a total of 5 hours of sleep for this, and I have more pricks on my hand than a local cactus...but who cares?"

So Warren decides to play along. "I love me a tough woman."

But his swagger was immediately washed down with humiliation when Y/N stopped herself from continuing it.

"What the hell, Augustine? That's what that was?" Karen scoffed, taking into her hands a white tag attached to the strings of a ribbon tied to complete the look of the present. The tag was titled Serenity by Y/N Augustine. "Is that what I think it is?"

Y/N smiles awkwardly, and all Karen could do was sit with an agape mouth, trying to restrain herself from strangling her friend.

"I want to wear your work!" She whines. "I've been begging you to make me something for ages! What's his reason for one?"

Warren pulls up a chair and starts ripping the red wrapper. "Pretty privilege." He shrugged.

"Oh!" Karen moved her head back in offense. "Do you want to go, Rojas? I knew Y/N way before you even thought about snagging her!"

"Karen, can we calm down?!" Y/N yelled at her, laughing. "What's in a few weeks?"

She thinks about it for a minute. "Christmas-oh. Oh!"

Meanwhile, Warren had stood up from his seat to try on the his new light brown leather vest, embroidered with flowers on the bottom, and then-

“There they are.” Warren chuckled as he pointed out the bejeweled part of the vest. The jewels were tiny and silver, and acted as borders of the flowers, and went to border the rest of the vest.

From far away, Warren noticed that they were made to stand out. Not too glamorous, but definitely not too basic that can be found at a lame, store at the mall.

No, this was designer. This was by Y/N Augustine, the fashion icon.

“I did what you suggested,” Y/N squinted up at him. “I’m still getting used to how I want to use them on clothes. I don't want the to look to over the top."

“Not bad, baby. I like it.” He chuckles as he lifts his shirt off.

“This is the part where I leave.” Karen whispered to her, a disturbed look on her face, before walking off inside with her tea.

And maybe it was a good idea Karen left.

Y/N stares openly at his bare body. His bare chest.

Holy cow.

“You take your shirt off for every girl?” She mused. But at the same time, she was serious, with a hint of suspicion.

“Nah, just you.” He remarked before swinging his arms through the vest. It slid fit into his body easily. “Such fine art is reserved for the finer art.”

“Geeze, Rojas.” Was all she could muster up, out of complete flattery. Normally she would find these pick-up lines completely overused that it’s lost meaning, or that it’s meaningless as it is.

But she was believing this so easily. Way too easily.

The weird thing is, she likes it. She actually looks forward to them, and at the same time she's disgusted by her own smittenness.

Is that even a word?

Warren pats the vest against his chest and dusts off invisible dust. “How’d you know my size?”

“Called you to ask." She sipped her tea. "Woman named Camilla answered, though."

"That's why she snuck in my room to grab a vest. Could've just asked me to take over, though."

Y/N laughed. "The conversation went on for hours. She's lovely to talk to. I want to meet her in person today."

Warren couldn't help but get ticked off. She's touched every nerve he had, it felt like, but she was avoiding anything that had to do with him.

He was right in front of her, and all she could do was avoid him every possible way.

It was like every step Warren took, with Y/N's coldness, he'd have to take a way more steps back than he did forward. Approaching her kept hurting him.

And the only way she's approached him? It was a kiss, the best and most sensual kiss he's ever felt, one that seemed to keep him breathless and despite it, left her wanting for more. It was a kiss he's been wanting more of at every thought, every mention of her name.

And while the kiss was a moment he'd never forget, it seemed like for Y/N she had forgotten it as soon as it was over.

Y/N senses his change of demeanor just by the way he slipped out of the vest. "What's wrong?"

"Can we talk about it?" His voice wavered. Asking about it physically pained Warren, but he pushed through. "Alright? It's the least you could do."

Y/N swallows thickly, her eyes darting off to her shoes. "About what?"

"Y'know exactly what." Warren inhaled sharply as he slipped back into his t-shirt. "What is this, even? What do you expect out of this?" He motioned to the two of them. "Because I'll tell you what I want it to be. Y/N I barely know you, but I've already picked up enough about you to know that you are just about the only person I know that's stuck on me. You're different, and it's so comforting and-and nice to see someone stick to their own thing and not feel the need to conform to be part of the crowd. Do you know how refreshing that is? And, fuck, that kiss-"

Warren saw a slight tremble in her bottom lip, and he wasn't sure if he should stop or not.

"I'm not..." she clenched her jaw, surprisingly, not out of anger. "I'm not the happiest right now."

"Well that's fucking perfect, Y/N." He pointed at his chest. "I'm. Right. Here."

She shook her head, her eyes shut. "Don't-"

"I can do it." He reassured her in a low, husky voice. He took the risk of placing a hand on hers. "I doubted it for a second, that I'm holding you back or something, but nothing does. Nothing can hold you back. You do your own shit, and everyone just follows along, because you're such a force. For fighting about women's rights, donating to charities even I've never heard about-"

Y/N's heart only jammed against her ribcage violently. "How'd you know about that?" She whispered under her breath in disbelief.

He shrugged with a smile. "A man's gotta do his research."

She can't possibly give in, and it wasn't about her career now.

She's scared if she gives in, that she's just using him to fill in the emptiness of her life. A good—the best man she's probably met for noticing what others couldn't about her, for noticing what she herself couldn't notice.

She had just submitted a few of her bejeweled and other unique and risky clothing projects like Warren encouraged her to, and her team loved them.

When no answer came out of her, Warren continued, swiping his thumb over and over on her hand. "I've done all the research I can do, now I really want to see you behind the camera, behind the press."

It easily hit every doubt Y/N had in her heart down and dead. "Dammit, Warren-" she choked out, a hand over her eyes.

"Hey, look." He chuckled out. "I'm asking for a lot, but we can take this as slow as you want-"

"You're so fucking stubborn." She sniffed, slapping his hand away out of flattery. "Fuck you."

"Is that a yes? I don't have to go on one knee right now though, right?"

Y/N only shook her head and brought his lips to hers hungrily.

No, he didn't have to go down on one knee right now.

•─────⋅(cut to documentary)⋅─────•

Warren: Y'know, there were a lot of things I wish I could go back and experience again, but nothing beats the shocked look on those motherfuckers' faces that day when I came back with my sweet babe of a girlfriend wrapped around my arm *chuckles*

Eh, well,*he ticks* they actually haven't met her until Christmas day, which wasn't until a few weeks later. And I had some making up to do, which was perfect.

•─────⋅(cut back)⋅─────•

"You promised me a drum lesson." Y/N panted out a laugh. Even after the high, she was able to push herself up on her elbows on the lofty bed. "To brush off my drumming skills because the drummer from the Six said I needed 'some help."

The said drummer followed her up and smiled against the corner of her lips. "Look who's gullible now." He teased.

He makes a trail of kisses from the neck and up, and with his mustache, earned him a few squeals and screams.

"One of these days I'm going have to elbow you or break your nose," she giggled out. "Warren, stop!"

He doesn't, and the sound of her giggling and laughing only encouraged him to kiss her harder on her neck, and with every pursing of his lips his mustache followed, tickling her. "You love my nose and my mustache."

"Warren, fuck!" Y/N moved away and grabbed her bedside alarm. "The dinner was supposed to start 2 hours ago."

"Well shit," Warren shrugged, clearly ignoring his lover's panic. "Too late for anything now. I think we should just stay here, on this bed, making lo-"

"Oy vey," she muttered under her breath, staring at the clock in dismay once again.

"Baby," he stifled a moan against her shoulder. "What did I say about speaking French to me? Fuck..."

"That wasn't even-I'm getting dressed." Y/N stumbles out of her entangled formation with her boyfriend to get to her closet.

When no movement followed her, Y/N threatened, "Warren, if you don't get up I'm dragging you out by your mustache."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

taglist (aka beautiful people): @pinkdaiisies @mlwriting5 @teletubbysteroids @linatells @stanzie @arsonkween @rexorangecouny @lisbeth122605 @cultsanrio @thatoneawesomechicka @magicalmiserybore @sourholland @sunfairyy. @lilyhw1 @viridianflowers​  @goldenjasssy @eonnyx @coldlamaspersonspy

[reasonsmandy]

It's just me, you and the sea.

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — Hey there love! I got this idea: The reader is a director, especially music videoclips, she is Billy and Graham's sister (or not, your choice). When she's working, she is very professional, very confident too, but outside of work, she's a little more insecure, shy, and quiet, and Warren just loses his mind for her. He loves to make her nervous, especially because when he tries to flirt with her on sets, she just doesn't play along, you know. BUT, she thinks he's only messing with her. I also got this "vision" in mind of them talking at a party while she writes (because of course she kind of wants to be a movie director one day too). You can use it if you like😊 You can choose how it ends (hopefully a happy ending...? 😂)

✧.* summary — Your work has always been something that made you proud and happy and when you joined to serve the most famous band of the moment it was no different. The difference was the look he made you have over everything in just one rainy afternoon.

✧.* warnings — none.

✧.* word count — 3.3k

✧.* 🥁 — warren's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I promised I'd come back and here I am, how are you? So, I know you suggested a party but I wanted to change the scene a bit, I hope you like it. Good reading 🫶🏾

The red lights adorned you along with the heat, you would hang the still-soaked revealed images on the strings while you thought about the next projects to come and how you would do them. The bedroom door opens catching your attention, you turn to see the figure of a brunette woman with her own series of images to reveal, you greet her with a smile and she takes a stand by your side.

Despite being an implicit rule in those environments where the art of photography should be admired, and that's what she did by looking at your photos hanging there.

“They are really beautiful.” You can hear the sincerity in her voice and it brings you comfort that pushes away your shyness.

“Thanks…” You release the last clip, and look at all the pictures with pride. “I'm more into filming but…for the first time with photos it wasn't bad, was it?”

“Not bad at all, they are amazing.” She points out. “You said you work with filming?” She asks the question expecting you to craft a conversation with her.

“Yeah, yes I've been working with filming for a while now. I started with some short films but now I'm making video clips. But I want something bigger, maybe to be a movie director someday.” You explain and she looks genuinely interested, you deduce this is a gift from her just from the minutes you spend together.

“Oh that sounds amazing.” She says now putting her pictures next to yours. “My husband is in a band, you know?”

“Really? Is it him in this picture?”

Camila nods, you tap your forehead turning to her.

“I'm sorry for being rude, my name is Y/N and yours?”

“I'm Camila.” She says, opening a majestic smile. “You should stop by the house sometime, I'd love to see your work. I'm sure my husband's band would love to have you record something for them.”

…

Warren was the last to sit down at the table, which automatically made him take everyone's subject in half. He bites the chicken wing while watching each of his friends trying to understand, effortlessly he lets himself be carried away in the observation.

“Cami, you can’t make compromises for us like that.” Billy says through a sigh, leaning his body back against the chair. “And it's even more complicated now that Daisy has to agree to everything before we do anything as a band.”

Camila tries not to show how the comment had upset her.

“Look, I know it can be tricky, but I understand that. Her work is really cool, it suits you. And who better to know that than me?” She jokes, eliciting a genuine smile from Eddie and Karen.

“I think it's worth a try” Karen says.

“It won't hurt anyone if we give it a chance." Eddie shrugs, with a smile. “And I trust your gut.”

“Sorry if I'm too high, but what the fuck are we talking about?” Warren interrupts, capturing everyone's attention.

Camila explains to him how he met you and her idea to make a music video for the band with her ideas and her direction, he instantly gets excited with the thought and volunteers to help Camila with whatever she needed and to help Billy convince Daisy too.

It wasn't difficult to get Jones to agree with the idea, the label also thought it was wonderful and soon the idea of the clip being released along with the tour dates was their great marketing strategy. The chosen song was 'Let Me Down Easy' by everyone's vote and the final touch was to look for you again to adjust the creative ideas and the budget of the project.

You knock three times on the door of Billy and Camila's house and wait for someone to answer you. The things in your bag were hanging while you felt the cool breeze against your body. The door is opened and your gaze lifts to see Rojas' curls and his eyes that smile at you, you straighten your body looking professional waiting for him to say something.

“You must be Y/N” His warm voice says, opening the door for you to enter. “Make yourself at home, if you want a beer or a cigarette we have everything outside.” He approaches you, as if to tell you a secret. “We don't keep any of that around Jules.”

You laugh at how excited he was, following him out of the house where everyone was gathered. Everyone's eyes on you make you a little uncomfortable but the drummer's hand on your shoulder brings you minimal comfort.

“The little star has arrived.” Warren makes sure to announce you, You frown at the nickname but smile small at the same time.

“It's so good to see you.” Camila comes to hug you tight. “Guys, this is Y/N… Y/N, This is Graham, Karen, Daisy, Billy and of course Warren that you met already. I'll let you guys talk about the clip and stay with Jules inside, if you need me just call.”

She approaches Billy and kisses him before walking through the doors of the house.

“So, do you have requirements for this project?” You say opening your notepad, ready to write whatever they were going to suggest.

They look at each other, you can see out of the corner of their eyes that they're waiting for someone to say something.

“Would you rather it be a clip of you performing with a story told through the music?” You drop another question, seeing that no one has said anything.

“Us playing is a pretty cool idea.” Billy seemed inclined to this suggestion but at the same time as his agreement was said Daisy's expression is one of denial.

“You know this is a song full of history, it would be perfect for us to show a story to our audience in it. After all, to see us playing they go to the show. We should do something new.”

“I kinda agree.” Eddie says, leaning his body back. “We can innovate with some storytelling.”

Billy frowned, you could see he didn't like to be crossed.

“Maybe we can mix the two ideas?” Graham suggests, you write it down.

“Don't worry Cariño, you'll get used to it eventually.”

You turn to him smiling a little embarrassed by the nickname, you close your notebook, leaning in to observe the band better.

“Well, I think we could mix the two ideas but... If my opinion as a professional is relevant, Daisy has a point.” You looked more at Warren while he spoke, for some reason he gave you confidence. “Nobody watches a clip with just the band playing, not the whole clip at least, you know?”

“So what do you suggest?” Billy says grumpy.

“I think we can use you as characters, telling the story of the song, so the audience gets to know the band members and focus on the lyrics through that story.”

“You're awesome.” Warren whispers in your ear, you open a small smile.

“You want us to act?” Graham asks.

“If it's not difficult for you, we can leave it enigmatic too. Obviously there will be no lines, what do you think of us doing a script?”

“Mi Alma, Maybe I'm being a little dumb but why script it if we don't have lines?” Warren asks.

“It would be a script for us to align what we are going to do, who will be the role, what story we will tell. This kind of thing.”

“Got It, keep going hermosa.”

“I like you!" Daisy utters, giving you a captivating smile. “I think we can start working on that, everyone agrees?”

Everyone agrees, even Billy, which is surprising.

“I can start working then, amazing, call me in two days.” You pack your things in your bag, looking at them one more time as a second check. “Any other requirements?”

Nobody answers you, so you take your work there for granted. Getting up to leave.

“Wait, I'll walk you to the door.” Warren is quick to follow you.

Upon entering the house again, her body warms up more because it is abandoned by the breeze outside, Camila, who was in the living room playing with Julia, is quick to get up with the toddler in her arms to say goodbye.

“How was it? Everything worked out?” She asks, Julia playing with her hair.

“Yeah, I'm full of ideas.” You answer excitedly, unconsciously sticking your purse to your body.

“She is a genius, Cami.” Warren says.

“You haven’t even seen my ideas yet.” You laugh, watching him with a smirk on your face.

“Tell me then.” You are taken aback by his answer, you didn't expect his interest to be so lasting. “I really want to know.”

You don't know how to respond, you look at Camila as a question, a request for help perhaps. She opens a smirk, you regret your choice instantly.

“There's a quiet beach nearby, I think you might like it.” Camila suggests, you arch your eyebrows. The corner of your eye going to Warren. “Maybe Warren is free to…”

“I am, I'm totally free.” He responds so fast that you can't help but laugh a little. “Are you up for it, tesoro?”

Camila nods, as if asking you to trust her.

“Okay, take me there.”

…

Warren's van stops a little away from the sand, on a cloudy day you knew the beach would be empty or at least with few people. You open the passenger seat window on the way in, aiming to feel the breeze on your face as a way to let go of the anxiety of the moment. Warren drove there, watching your movements in detail, just amazed by you.

The engine cuts off and then he turns to you, waiting for what you were going to do next. You after a while turn from the window to observe the curly haired man.

“So, tell me more about yourself, nena.” He says, you lean closer to him but not too much.

“Well, it's been a while since I moved here.I'm passionate about filming and directing, I've been producing my own thing but.” You give up talking, ashamed, few were the people who saw that potential in you.

“Really?” His eyes sparkle with excitement, you feel your heart race. “Damn it mami, is there anything you don’t do?”

“Lots of things actually Rojas, what's up with the nicknames, uh?” Your body leaning back against the bench was what he admired.

“They suit you.” He shrugs, adjusting his curls. “Now come on, let's go for a swim.”

He expected you to deny the suggestion, but you just open the van door and run across the sand. He flashes a gigantic smile and is quick to chase after you.

The closer you got to the sand, the more adrenaline was the essential boost to give you the courage to enter the icy waters. But that didn't seem to bother you at the time, you take your shirt off and leave it on the nearest rock before letting the water wet your skin.

“Come on, did you give up?” You yell at him, and he hurries to meet you there.

“Never, princesa.”

After a while in the water, you return to the sand, walking together to the most comfortable rocks to sit together. He helps you up, and you sit watching the clouds darken as the wind picks up, you hug your body trying to avoid the cold but the idea is without purpose and conclusion.

“That was so fun.” He says a little breathless.

“Yeah it was.” You agree, smiling at him. “But it's getting so cold…” Her voice came out shaky from the weather.

“Let's go to the van.” He helps you get up and guides you to the vehicle, and as the weather is waiting for you to leave, the rain starts to fall.

When you get into the van the adrenaline is still in you, Warren closes the windows so he can make the environment warmer for you, while the silence was comfort for both of you. He turns to you.

“I can drop you home now if you want.” he says, wishing your response was the opposite.

“I actually don't.” You say, taking your notebook off your bag. “I had so many ideas for your clip.”

“Meaning?” He asks, feeling happy to witness your explosion of creativity.

“Meaning I'll stay in your car until I finish my script.” You say poking the tip of his nose with the pencil. “I'm sorry… I don't want to take up your whole night.”

“Are you kidding me?” He speaks excitedly, turning completely towards you to see you better. “I'm so ready for this!”

“You want to participate?” Surprised, you question, unable to contain your smile.

“Of course I want, tell me, what do you need?” He says, ready to start the van engine.

“I mean, I could eat” You shrug, very happy to have more time with him.

“So that's it cariño, We're getting food and then spending the rest of the necessary time in this van working together!”

He drives for as long as he can on the road near the waterfront, a request from you, that you keep your creativity. The rain was still falling, making a steady pattern against the window, which strangely helped you to concentrate which he quickly notes, finding it adorable. After getting your food he brings you back to the same beach, you can't stop thinking about how much gas he was wasting, which made you laugh.

“You know, now I can say with absolute certainty that you are amazing.” Warren says after a long silence, the water droplets are now falling unevenly. You turn to him, closing the notebook.

“Again Rojas, you haven't seen anything yet.” You sigh, laying your head on his shoulder. “I don't know if I'm doing a good job anyway.”

“Can I see what you have ready?” He asks gently, reaching out to take his notebook.

Every second he read it was more torturous for you, so you focus on the water for a bit hoping his calmness will help your heart to do the same.

“This is amazing, really, you are a volcano of creativity.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “No need to exaggerate, but that was the funniest compliment I've ever received.”

“I'm not exaggerating, I'm great with it. They will love it, trust me.” He strokes her hair, kissing the top of her head. “I've known them forever, and I know this is going to turn out spectacular.

“I don't know why I'm being insecure about this job…” You whisper, still lying on his shoulder.

“I don't want to screw this up or let Cami down

...”

You don't finish the sentence, you leave what you were thinking in the air

“Look mi cielo, the sun is rising... How about we walk along the shore together? While we think about the end of this script?”

You break into a huge smile “Did you by any chance come out of a romantic comedy?”

“That's where you go wrong, I'm a mix of all kinds of movies.” He takes turns when he notices that the rain was now just more water in the distant sea. He opens the door going to the beach again, you notice that this time he leaves his shoes in the van, his vest still wet was there too.

You shake your head at the person he is, how he made everything seem simple and light, you see him waiting for you on the sand and open the door without hesitation. Going towards him little by little, for Rojas it was like watching a work in motion, beauty and calm was what you meant to him every minute more together with you.

He brings his hands to your waist, and you automatically tuck yours around his neck, closely watching his every expression.He smiles, pulling you close in a hug, you feel welcomed like you haven't felt in a long time, he pulls away to guide you along the shore as promised.

“Hermosa…” He calls you, and you notice only now that you got so used to all the nicknames he gave you. “I would like to know more about that project of yours that you mentioned earlier.”

Your body freezes, you turn to him looking for any hint of irony or joke, there is none. He just smiled, happy and curious about everything that his person was involved in.

“I don't have a lot ready, but I wanted something more thought out before starting any recordings.” You talk by walking with your feet dragging instead of lifting them when you step. “But basically it's the story of an incomplete romance, which never worked out in the past, but due to a certain event they meet again.But there's a reason why this romance didn't work out, and I want to show that as my story goes on, making my audience figure it out at the climax and ultimately resolve the conflict. Of course it's not just about the romance, there are supporting characters and other characters I want to elaborate on, but this is what I have ready.”

“I would watch this for sure.” You knew that Golden retriever impersonation wasn't lying to you. “I would love to see everything you're doing, like, see the things you have ready and maybe inspire you to put a beautiful drummer character in it.”

“Do you want to be my muse Rojas?” You speak with a smirk on your face, he licks his lips and then smiles at you, the tension between you two growing.

“Maybe I want to cariño.” He whisper, getting closer to you, the light was still weak because the sun was rising slowly, your clothes were still relatively cold due to the adventure they had in diving the waters earlier, when his hands slowly go to your waist over the shorts you were wearing, your body shivers visibly.

Warren notices, and pulls away a little afraid he's crossed a line with you. You take his hands as he pulls away, placing them back on your waist. Slowly you lift your hands from his neck to the nape of his neck, stroking the wet curls tenderly.

“I want you to be, but not only that…” You say shyly, your gaze momentarily going to waves. “Whatever this is here, this connection, I want us to continue. Like, seeing each other even after the clip is done.”

“You can be sure this will happen.” He reassures you, kissing your forehead.

You pull back after the cuddle to look him in the eyes, and stare at the drummer's lips. You take a deep breath and pull him close to you, kissing his lips gently and slowly. Feeling the fireworks in his stomach explode with each touch, he pulls you closer to feel his body more, caressing your waist as he feels your fingers play with his locks. You've never had such an incredible work experience.

He wraps his arms around your waist tighter and lifts you up, you start laughing as you ask him over and over again what he was doing, he guides you once again to the waters where you watch together as the sun takes over the sun and gradually warms your skin, you play and have fun for a time that you don't see go by and you didn't want to.

“Won’t the others be worried about your disappearance?” You ask, hugging him like the waters hugged you. The crystal clear water showed you how beautiful your bodies were together.

“I don't care, I want to stay with you a little longer." He confesses, making you roll your eyes with a smile. He kisses you one more time, not caring about anything around her. “Don't worry about anything else, it's just me, you and the sea.”

...

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

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[i-hate-people-1]

are you still writing your warren fic?

I haven’t worked on it in a minute but yes I’m working on a fourth and final part I’ve just been struggling with how to end it but it’ll hopefully happen soon sorry if you’ve been waiting

[viranellee]

you'd never guess (i'd never know)

synopsis: the only thing eddie roundtree likes about billy dunne is his younger sister.

warnings: smut, dirty talk, swearing, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill, but it's never mentioned)

a/n: the lack of eddie smut on here is appalling

⁠ ♡

“Where are you going?”

Frozen in your tracks, you slowly turn around and meet Eddie’s still sleepy but inquisitive gaze, and as his eyes look you over from head to toe, it morphs into a distinctive shade of lustful. You allow yourself the liberty to admire him as he does the same to you - unguarded and vulnerable in his half-awake state, the nest of tangled light brown hair on top of his head, his naked body painted with love bites underneath the white hotel sheets.

You want to kiss him.

“Sweetheart, c’mon. Come ‘ere.” He tries coaxing you, but you know the rules by now. No matter how sweet the temptation is, no matter the things his deep, husky morning voice does to your insides, no matter the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest everytime you lay eyes on him, you need to be unfailingly secretive about this, whatever it is, between you two. Otherwise the deadly tornado of a man your brother Billy is will turn it into ruin with a single flick of his hand.

Even still, it seems that you’re the only one rightfully worried.

"Eds, I have to leave, you know this.”

Something hardens in his gaze for a moment, but it quickly slips away. It pains you to watch it. You lean down to kiss his cheek in an attempt to make him feel better, but he turns his head around, capturing your lips with his. You gasp and instinctively fist your hands into his hair as he rearranges you to sit on his lap. There’s something desperate about the way he holds you and kisses you this particular morning and it sets everything in you on fire. You moan into his kiss despite your brain screaming at you to get the fuck up and leave before anybody finds out you’re not in your room. Eddie seems to sense your overthinking, as he usually does, and slips his cold hands underneath your blouse, letting his long fingers trace your spine, trying to soothe you.

"Focus on me. Don’t think about anything else.” Eddie instructs and you suddenly feel lighter.

You kiss him again, a silent thanks for bringing you back to the present, and it’s his turn to moan as he presses you down on his hard-on.

"A couple of kisses and I’m already rock hard like a fuckin’ teenager. Jesus, the things you do to me.” He mutters, more to himself than you, but the words still manage to leave their impact on your nether regions.

“Eddie, Eddie…” you pant as his mouth begins to place greedy kisses down your neck. “We’re…we’re going to be late for breakfast.”

He laughs against your skin and you swear you’ve never felt something so good.

“I’m already having my breakfast, sweetheart, and it’s much better than the shit they serve down there.”

Fuck.

---

“Anyone got any idea where Eddie and my sister are?” Graham asks his friends, in the midst of swallowing his piece of omelet.   

Warren shrugs.

“Eddie’s probably still sleeping. I mean, when has he ever shown up for breakfast on time? Let the guy get some sleep, man.” 

Graham nods a couple of times, deeming the explanation logical. It doesn't stop him from thinking about the person left out from it.

"Yeah, sure," he starts "but my sister always shows up. I...I don't know, maybe she slept in this time, but maybe I should go up and check." 

Karen suddenly pipes in from her place next to Graham, putting her hand on his thigh. 

"Don't. For we all know, she's just sleeping in." She says, looking at Warren from across the table pointedly, who takes the hint and nods reassuringly at Graham. "And you know how she gets when someone wakes her up. Let her rest." 

"But what if she's hungry when she wakes up?" 

Karen sighs, closing her eyes for a couple of seconds. Warren inhales sharply, a tell-tale sign of him holding in his laughter. 

"Graham. She isn't an infant. I'm sure your sister is fully capable of getting breakfast for herself." She says, but he still doesn't look entirely convinced.

"Yeah, but I don't want her to be alone." Graham pauses. "I don't want her to feel lonely, y'know." 

"Hey, chill man. She and Eddie wake up around the same time anyway, they usually get breakfast together, don't they? I really don't think there's anything to worry about." Warren adds, as he takes the last bite of his P&J sandwich. 

Graham silently leans back in his chair and Karen takes the opportunity to change the subject.

"Anyway, uh, how's Lisa, Warren?" 

KAREN SIRKO: I knew she and Eddie were fucking from the moment I saw them together. 

WARREN ROJAS: For the record, I had no idea they were fucking. 

GRAHAM DUNNE: [sighs] Can we not talk about this, please? 

---

"Yeah, just like that. Fuck, you look so good bouncing on my cock like that." 

You don't know how long you two have been going at it. What you do know, however, is that Eddie Roundtree, the insatiable sex maniac, has already put you through five different positions and this is the sixth one.

"Eddie, I…I don't think I can..." You start saying as you feel your strength leaving your body, but he knows. He always knows. 

He tightens his hold on your hips and drags you up and down his cock and you have to physically put a hand over your mouth when he hits that spot inside of you. 

"Found it, huh?" He comments, with that goddamn cocky glint in his eye and you would have normally rolled your eyes at him if it weren't for the fact that they were already rolling towards the back of your head. 

"Shut...up!" You pant, and he smirks. As soon as you see that smirk, you involuntarily tighten around him. Eddie groans when he feels it and you lean down to kiss his Adam's apple, and then - him. He cups the back of your neck with one large hand and you shiver.

"I'm, I'm close. Eddie, fuck!" You barely manage to stutter out and he goes even faster, the sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room. He presses a sweet kiss to your collarbone and immediately goes back to whispering filthy things into your ear.

"Cum for me, love. Cum on my cock." He urges, breathless, something swimming in his eyes you've never seen before, and you do just that. 

You think you might have screamed. You don't know. All you remember is Eddie.

You hide your face in his shoulder, sensitive and exhausted - he cums shortly after, your name on his lips like a prayer. You sigh when you feel him soften inside of you. He falls back on the pillows and you fall along with him, head on his chest and his hand playing with your hair. 

It's comfortably silent after that, so silent in fact, that for a second you think Eddie might have fallen asleep. You tilt your head upwards to place a kiss on his jawline, but you find him already staring back at you, an uncharacteristically contemplative look on his gorgeous face. 

"What?" You question, growing increasingly worried. 

This is it, you think, this is when he ends things. 

My worst fear is coming true.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Y'know, I've played in front of hundreds of thousands of people. I know what anxiety feels like. But laying in that bed with her, looking at her, was the most nervous I'd ever felt in my entire life. 

"I…" He begins and closes his mouth, as if carefully choosing his words, but doing nothing to ease the pit in your stomach. "Well..." 

You stand up upright, a typical "Dunne frown", as he liked calling it, on your face. 

He should look me in the eyes, at the very fucking least. 

"Oh, is this what you're doing now? Fucking me one last time before you reject me? You've had your fun, is that it?" 

Y/N ROUNDTREE: I do admit that I... misjudged the situation. But when you've been with assholes in the past, sometimes you come to conclusions a bit too quickly. 

Eddie's face scrunches up into a mixture of shock, confusion and slight sadness.

"What?" He asks so loudly that it makes you feel embarrassed. "What in the actual fuck are you on about? Why would you even think that? Sweetheart, I was going to say I love you."  

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: I'll never forget the look on her face, swear to God. [laughs] 

"What?" You parrot back, just as loudly. It takes a beat or two for the words to sink in.  When they do, you start laughing like you've never heard anything funnier. 

Eddie simply looks at you like you've grown two heads. 

"Oh, Eds. Please don't lie to me like this." You cover your face with your hands.

Suddenly, your hands are being gently pulled away - he's staring at you so softly you think you might die. You might have actually died and this is your heaven. It certainly feels like it. 

He whispers your name and you whisper his back. 

"I love you." He says, cupping your cheeks,  and keeps repeating it as if trying to get it through your head. 

"Eddie…" you breathe against his lips. He pulls your bottom lip down with his thumb, pupils dilated like you're his new favorite drug. You might actually be. "Eddie, I lo-"

"SOUNDCHECK IS IN 30 MINUTES, ROUNDTREE, GET YOUR ASS OUT OF THE DAMN BED!"  

Fuck.

---

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: She might not have told me she loved me that day, but - [shows wedding ring] - I know. I know.

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