Rockstar!daryl You Will Always Be Famous - Tumblr Posts

ok rockstar!daryl has my heart 😭

For You

rockstar!daryl au

word count: 1.4k

a/n: finally wrote another fic! my motivation was absolutely crushed by outside circumstances, but this au was too good to pass up. so sorry again for the unexpected hiatus, glad to be writing again 🥳

Your margarita sat empty on the counter before you, beads of condensation dripping down onto the stone below. 

Your friend had told you about this “cool bar downtown,” and, to their credit, it was pretty cool. The lighting was low, with only a few hanging lights illuminating the small space. The color scheme was dark and monotoned, but still tasteful and rugged, with splashes of red accenting the stools and tables. The atmosphere and energy were dark but still inviting to customers and passersby. The tiny bar was filled with the deep sounds of a Creed cover band that was currently playing on the small stage near the back half of the building.

You and the aforementioned friend had only been sat down at the bar for about 20 minutes until a woman came up and started flirting with them. One thing led to another and they both excused themselves to go to the family bathroom to “freshen up.” You and them both knew that wasn't what was happening in there.

Although you were certainly very happy for them, it left you sitting at the bar alone, and not really in a drinking mood anymore. 

The sound of applause snapped you out of your thoughts. The cover band had just gotten done playing their last song. They said their goodbyes and thank you's to the crowd, and even threw one of their guitar picks into the small but loud gathering of onlookers, and a scream rang out, presumably from the woman that had just caught it.

Concerts had always been a staple in your life, and you would go to one every week if you had the money for it. You always just felt at home in the loud and chaotic atmosphere, singing along to your favorite songs with thousands of other people. While, obviously this is not nearly on the same scale, you wanted to check it out anyway. One of the main things that sold you on coming to this bar in the first place was the Deftones cover band that was coincidentally coming up next after the brief intermission. So, you slid off of your stool and sauntered over to the stage area.

You stood at the back of the crowd and leaned on a nearby wooden support beam. Everyone was talking amongst themselves, eagerly waiting for the next band. A small projector was set up on one of the support beams that projected the Deftones logo onto the black curtains that covered the main stage, giving the members access to freely move and switch out their equipment. 

After a couple more minutes of leaning against the support beam and letting your eyes wander around the bar, your eyes snapped back to the stage, as the guitar riff for Shove It started playing behind the curtain. This got a lot of people's attention, some of them yelling and shouting a mixture of excited “yeah's!” The band drew the riff out for another minute until the curtain was abruptly pulled to the side, revealing the guitarist, bassist, drummer, and the lead singer. 

You immediately started lightly banging your head to the beat while scanning your eyes over the rugged group. Each of them had sort of the same look; The body and wardrobe of a divorced dad that didn't have custody of their kids. However, the contrasting guitarist certainly did halt your gaze.

Wavy, long, brunette hair drifted from side to side as his fingers danced across the fretboard. His broad shoulders could be seen tensing up, even through the faded Slayer shirt he had on. You only caught glimpses of his face with how often his hair was in the way, but you could clearly see his scruffy goatee and piercing blue eyes.

You stepped away from the support beam and wedged yourself into the small crowd. Yes, obviously, you wanted to hear the music better and enjoy the experience more thoroughly, but the way that the veins popped out on the guitarist's hands had you begging to get a closer look. 

You managed to squeeze your way into the front of the crowd as Mascara started to play, and your eyes were glued to the rugged guitarist's hands as he played the famous six note riff. But what you didn't realize is that he had started to notice your staring, considering that it was a small crowd. When you managed to rip your eyes away from his hands to his face, he was staring directly at you. Your eyes went wide as you were met with his slight smirk from the stage, followed by the man mouthing the words ‘You're staring, sweetheart.’ Your ears immediately felt hot as you ducked your gaze away and covered your mouth. Did that really just happen? The man was amused by your reaction, chuckling under his breath. 

After a minute of staring at the ground to keep your composure, you looked back up to the stage, only to see the man had moved closer to the front of the stage, biceps now fully in view. You stood stunned, barely bobbing your head to the music, eyes flicking back and forth from his face to his arms. He took a side glance to gauge your reaction, raised an eyebrow and smirked.

Through the next several songs, you two had the occasional interaction. From glances, to mouthing ‘You're so hot!’ which made the man roll his eyes in amusement.

It unfortunately had come to the final song of the set list, and the riff for Risk started playing. You screamed louder than you did for any of the other songs, because Risk was one of your favorites. The man took note of this, and hatched a plan. 

For most of the song, he played as normal, whipping the long hair out of his eyes to occasionally take glances at you.

But on the final chorus of the song, he walked to the front of the stage and began to sing into the microphone along with the lead singer, looking you in the eyes the entire time the verse was leaving his lips.

I know what to say to take you 

Higher, higher

No one else can take you higher

But I will try

I'll find a way

I'll confuse them

But I think I can try

I will save your life

I will save your life

I'll try

I'll find a way

I'll confuse them

But I think I can try

I will save your life

I will save your life

I'll try

For you

For you

You were so overwhelmed with shock and the warmth radiating off your face that you didn't register that the show was over and people were now yelling and applauding. You physically shook your head to break your trance that you were in and joined in on the applause, looking at one man on the stage. He spared you a side glance with his signature smirk, recognizing your high-pitched applause from the rest of the crowd. 

When the applause had died down to just chatter and people had begun to go back to the bar or their tables, he glanced at you again and held up his pointer finger, signaling you to wait. He went over to the opposite side of the stage and grabbed a fine print Sharpie.

Of course, you were still standing near the stage, definitely not still admiring the anonymous guitarist. You had let your gaze wander to the rest of the bar when you heard a raspy “Hey! Sweetheart!” It was him. He motioned with his pointer finger to come closer to the stage, and you moved without a second thought. 

“Hold out yer arm.” He said nonchalantly, with an unexpected southern drawl. You did what you were told, and he gently turned it palm side up, and you blushed even more at the sudden contact. He then took the cap of the pen off with his teeth and wrote his number on your forearm, keeping his hand loosely wrapped around your wrist.

Snapping the cap back on, he smirked once again.

“Yer hearts beatin’ pretty fast there, darlin’. Bet I know why.”

Still having a loose hold on your wrist, it brought it up to his mouth and gave it a deliberately slow kiss, eyes not leaving yours.

Finally letting go, he moved a stray hair out of his face and remarked, “Name’s Daryl, by the way. Glad ya enjoyed the show.” Followed by a wink.

You watched in flustered shock as he casually went back to his band members to chat and put away their gear. 

Emily was never going to believe this.