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meropegaaunt · 1 year

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WEST COAST

Billy Dunne x reader

Implied eventual Graham Dunne x reader

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

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

Word Count: 2,359 words

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

ੈ✩‧₊˚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─── ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ───

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ੈ✩‧₊˚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─── ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ───

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

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

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

#daisy jones and the six #djats #djats spoilers #billy dunne #graham dunne #warren rhodes #daisy jones headers #x reader #sam claflin #writing #writing requests #open requests #angst #rockband #camila dunne

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madiisixx · 1 year

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Pregnancy Scare │Nikki Sixx x Reader

♡ After one night during the Girls Girls Girls tour you start to feel uneasy and you have a feeling why, the only problem is will he accept it?

Oh god.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

you thought you'd been taking your birth control while on tour with Nikki and the guys as you decided to come along with them but you must've missed a few days and forgot to take them.

Which now led you to wallow in your own pity because you've been feeling under the weather for the past couple of weeks.

you had some suspicion and so did the guys, Especially Tommy and Mick because you'd been more irritable lately than you usually were. While they didn't think it was pregnancy because you hadn't had any signs, they thought you were on that time of the month.

Sitting down with your head in your hands, you decided to make a phone call to tommy to get what you think would solve the problem because you were afraid to do it yourself.

Picking up the phone you dialed his number, 'Come on pick up pick up!'

After a few rings you heard Tommy pick up the phone, 'Oh hey dude! what's up everything okay? You usually only call one of us when you're like in a bad situation man and that's even rare to call one of the guys from Motley so something must be up'

Rolling your eyes even though he can't see you, 'no tommy I need you to do something for me and I can't have you tell Nikki okay? I don't know how he'll react'

He furrows his brows at your statement and sits up while resting the phone between his ear and shoulder, 'are you okay? Do I need to take you to the hospital?'

Now getting irritated at his questioning, you snap.

'No tommy stop questioning me and go get me a damn pregnancy test'

His eyes practically bulge out of his head at your confession and freezes, 'You think you're pregnant? is it Nikki's?'

what a dumb question to ask when you're talking to a potentially pregnant person.

'Of course it's fucking Nikki's tommy! I haven't slept with anyone else, who do you think I am? Just go to the store, get me what I need and bring it to me' and with that you slammed the phone down back onto the receiver.

With your sudden outburst, he slammed the phone down on the receiver and rushed to get dressed and grabbed his keys.

Nikki, who had heard all of the commotion coming from Tommy's room, had come into his room while he was rushing to get out.

'Hey! hey! what's all the rush for? did someone die?'

He freezes when Nikki confronts him and struggles to come up with an excuse that's not what he was actually doing, 'I- uhm, I'm going to go check on uh- my sister yeah- because she just called and said she was sick- so- I'm gonna go see if she's okay'

And rushed out of their as soon as possible and left, slamming the door behind him.

Furrowing his brows, Nikki looks at the door Tommy just left out of and thought the whole entire encounter was weird. But what was it his business? It wasn't so he didn't question further.

Sitting there while waiting to see if those two pink lines would appear, made you finally realize how scared you were.

You were still so young to be a mom and Nikki? well he was no where near stable to take care of himself let alone a newborn baby.

Tommy had left, with reluctance, after he had given you the test and you snapped at him to go away.

You didn't mean to be so mean you were just so scared.

Finally having enough courage, you flipped the test over, and there were those two pink lines bold as day staring right back up at you.

'Fuck I'm terrified'

'what if he doesn't want to keep it?'

'I can't take care of a kid on my own'

'what the fuck am I gonna do?'

"FUCK", You screamed and threw the test by the door where it had landed with a thump.

all that you felt in that moment was scared.

'Holy shit I'm gonna be a mo-'

your thought's were interupted by Nikki barging into the room as he had heard the commotion yet again, just like he did with Tommy earlier that day.

With his hands on his hips he huffs, looking around the room, "seriously what is all the yelling? First Tommy and now you?"

You roll your eyes and turn your body away from him, as you were unable to tell him what was actually wrong.

Looking at you for a moment, he sighs at your silence and scans his eyes around the room until his eyes catch on something right by his feet.

He picks it up and stares at it, then back at you, then back at what he's holding again.

"What the fuck is this?"

Biting back tears in your eyes, you swallow your pity and get the courage to look into his eyes and with a voice the loudest you could muster, "I'm pregnant"

He goes silent for a moment and you wonder what is going on in his mind before he blurts out a sarcastic laugh and shakes his head in denial.

"So this is what Tommy was up to earlier. Is it mine?"

Nodding and quickly wiping the tears from your cheeks that were starting to fall at bay.

He nods and stands their in disbelief for a few moments, then without any warning throws the test back down by his feet and looks at you with such malice in his eyes.

"I don't have time for this", and with that he turns around and slams the door shut

leaving you to wallow with your pity alone.

It takes two to bring a child into this world, and your child will only ever know the love of you.

#nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx #nikki sixx fanfic #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx x reader #madiisixx #motley crue fanfiction #motley crue #80s bands #rockband

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