#john deacon x teen reader

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Title

Fandom: RPF, British RPF, Queen

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Characters: Roger Taylor, Brian May, John Deacon, Freddie Mercury, Reader, You

Word Count: 3139 // Rating: Teen & Up

Summary: I know you think I'm cool but I ain't one of the boys, No, don't be scared that I'm gon' tie you down, I need a little more

Tags/ Warnings: My Writing, Halloween Challenge, Writing Challenge, Songfics, Queen, Queen Band, Love, Friends To Lovers, Admitting Feelings, Hangover, Mild Swearing, Defining the Relationship, Hugging, Performing, Queen On Tour, Touring, Title // Meghan Trainor

Notes:  This is part of my writing Challenge for Halloween 2022. All fics are based off of songs I love. The aim is to write one fic a day for 15 days straight. I’m doing a similar thing for Christmas but they will all be headcanons [requests welcome for that] Enjoy x  

15 DAYS OF SONGFICS FOR HALLOWEEN (OCT 15TH - OCT 31ST)

The air was electric as the guys came off stage. The crowd was still screaming and clapping as they appeared around me each of them doused in sweat, congratulating one another on yet another successful show. As Freddie took the bottle of water I handed out to him and put it to his lips, chugging it down quickly, I offered Brian a towel so he could wipe his sweaty brow whilst the roadies took his and John’s guitars away from them.Then I held my hand out for Roger’s drumsticks and he handed them to me as he always did. 

‘What did you think?’ he asked as I took them out of his hand.  ‘Brilliant,’ I said with a smile. Since I was their personal assistant I had to be on the sidelines every night in case they needed anything. The bonus was that I was able to see them perform over and over again.  ‘I don’t know,’ Freddie said as we started to walk towards the dressing room.  ‘What Fred?’ Brian asked, his towel was wrapped around his neck now, though shrouded by the mass of black curls from above.  ‘I think I went a little pitchy in that last couple of songs,’ he said, ‘might be coming down with something.’ ‘Want me to pick you something up?’ I asked as we walked through the long narrow corridor that led us to a large dressing room. It wasn’t cosy. It was merely a room made of breezeblocks and a hard stone floor but the boys had made it their own despite only being there for a few hours. A large rack of eccentric outfits hung in the corner that was partitioned from the room by a thin curtain. A table stocked with all kinds of booze and glasses was in another corner and a couple of beat-up couches surrounded a coffee table full of snacks. 

‘No, it’s alright,’ Freddie said, ‘think I probably just need to rest a little.’ ‘So we’re not going out?’ Roger asked. He was standing by the mirror, now shirtless, running his fingers through his hair as he attempted to style it. Freddie flopped down onto one of the couches and sighed, ‘of course, we’re still going out.’ ‘What happened to resting?’ Brian said as he sat down opposite him. As Freddie and Brian started to discuss vocal rest Roger disappeared behind the curtain that separated the room from the ‘changing area’. Though as he disappeared I realised he had left his t-shirt on the dressing table. I had been hovering, perched on the arm of the couch so I stood up and wandered to the vanity, picking it up and slipping behind the curtain to where Roger was. He looked up as I entered, pulling the curtain back quietly, but then his focus went back to the pants he had been shimmying on. After a second or so he was just shirtless and I extended the t-shirt out to him which he took gratefully. Anyone else would blush or run out after seeing their boss half naked but my working life wasn’t exactly a normal one and over the past couple of months, Roger and I had fallen into something more than just friendship.

‘Hey,’ I said as I leaned against the wall, watching him.  ‘Hey,’ he said with a small smile.  ‘You played a good show today,’ I said. ‘Yeah it felt like a good one,’ he said as he slipped his t-shirt on. The chatter outside the curtains had gotten louder as more friends and family had come into the room and someone had put some music on and I could hear the sound of drinks being poured. So, feeling a little brave I pushed up off the wall and slid my arms around Roger’s waist. He smiled a little as I did but when I tried to lean up to kiss him he turned away. ‘People,’ he mumbled, pulling away from me. My arms dropped to my sides as embarrassment flooded through me. He looked away from me sheepishly though I doubted he was as embarrassed as I was at the rejection. Before I could beg for the ground to swallow me whole the curtain pulled back and John stood there, watching us. 

‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘I didn’t realise you were both in here.’ ‘Rog forgot his shirt,’ I said quickly. John nodded at the information though his gaze was laced with an air of suspicion, but before he could say anything else I slipped past him trying to ignore the heat in my cheeks. I took a seat next to Freddie and Roger came out a couple of seconds after me and slipped down onto the couch next to Brian, not meeting my gaze. Instead, he took a beer bottle off the table and cracked it open, chugging it down after a couple of seconds. 

My embarrassment quickly turned to irritation like it had been doing a lot recently. Roger and I weren’t a couple but we weren’t just friends either. Truth was I wasn’t really sure what we were. Our ‘relationship’ had occurred entirely by accident towards the start of this tour.

‘Jesus Fred you weigh a ton,’ Roger said as we shuffled a very pie-eyed Freddie through the hotel room door.  ‘Can barely hold him up,’ I panted as we stumbled into the room. As we neared the bed Roger pulled him off me and dumped him onto it ungracefully.  ‘Well at least we got him home for the night,’ he chuckled as we watched Freddie spread eagle on the mattress still fully clothed.  ‘I think we did more than enough don’t you?’ I giggled making im smile as he headed to the door. I leant down and slipped Freddie’s shoes off, dumping them by the foot of the bed and then I placed his key card on the nightstand and headed to where Roger was waiting for me. We slipped out of the room quietly as we walked down the hall to our rooms. Our rooms were directly opposite one another so we lingered in the hall to say goodbye.

‘Thanks for helping me,’ I said.  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said with a dismissive wave.  ‘Honestly, there’s no way I would’ve got him back here,’ I said but he cut me off. ‘Y/N honestly it’s not a problem,’ he said with a smile. He watched me closely, looking down at me with such intensity I felt my heart rate quicken. He looked good. His blonde shaggy locks were sticking out in all directions from where he’d been dancing or running his fingers through it and his eyes sparkled in the fluorescent hotel lighting. Then he murmured, ‘I had a good night tonight.’ ‘Me too,’ I said.  ‘You looked nice tonight,’ he said casually. I could feel my cheeks burning up at the compliment.  ‘Thanks,’ I mumbled before turning on my heel and mumbling a, ‘well night then.’

But as I reached for my door I felt his hand on my arm, spinning me around into his arms. He grabbed my face and pulled me to him kissing me with a ferocity I didn’t know he had. I could taste ale and cigarettes but I didn’t care. I melted into him, allowing him to kiss me as he wanted his hands all over as he pulled me to him and walked us into my room. 

Our relationship from then on had been pretty much that. Whenever we were alone it was like we couldn’t stop ourselves from tearing the other’s clothes off. Every night without fail one of us would succumb to getting up and going across the hall to slip into the other’s room. But then in front of people, it was entirely different. He was entirely different. He’d talk to me and laugh with me like we were nothing more than friends. 

As if he didn’t spend his nights fucking me senseless.

As if his mornings weren’t taken up by us lying in bed together, cuddling and talking about anything and everything. 

I was pulled out of my thoughts when I heard my name mentioned and looked up to find everyone looking at me.

‘Sorry?’ I asked looking for some clue as to what I was missing.

‘We were just wondering if you were coming out tonight?’ he asked. I looked between them, my gaze flicking to Roger for a split second. He was watching me carefully as if trying to figure out how his night was going to be impacted. I felt anger flood through me forcing my answer out my mouth, ‘yeah, count me in.’ 

✵✵✵

Ring….Ring….Ring

My hand fumbled around on the nightstand looking for the source of the noise. I knocked the receiver off of its holder clumsily though I managed to grab it and put it to my ear as I mumbled, ‘Hello?’  ‘Hi is this Miss Y/L/N?’ a sweet voice said on the other end of the line.  ‘Yeah,’ I yawned rolling onto my back as she continued.   ‘This is your wake-up call as requested,’ she said. ‘What time is it?’ I grumbled.  ‘8 am as you asked,’ she replied.  ‘Right, thanks,’ I said cursing my sober self for being so organised that now hungover me was suffering. ‘You’re welcome,’ she said and then the line disconnected. 

As I lay on my back and opened my eyes I tried to ignore just how beaten my body was feeling at this moment in time. Being so annoyed at Roger meant that I had gone a little overboard. Now I was feeling the brunt of my stupidity. My stomach churned as I climbed out of bed feeling sticky from the stale sweat I had been lying in. My head thumped as I rifled around my bag to find some painkillers. I threw them down, thankful that drunk me had been so kind as to leave out a glass of water, and then I headed to the bathroom to get ready. 

I spent a little longer than normal in the shower, allowing the warm water to try and make me feel human again. Then I climbed out, threw on some jeans and a T-shirt, and left my room. I woke the boys one by one, knocking on their doors to make sure they were up. Brian was already up and told me he’d be downstairs for breakfast in a minute. John took a knock or two but he opened his door and told me he too would be joining me soon. Freddie was awake but still in bed which meant I had to force my way inside to make sure. He was laying against the headboard watching TV.

‘Why didn’t you open the door?’ I grumbled throwing myself onto his bed.  ‘Because I knew you’d save me the trouble and come in,’ he chuckled taking a drag of his cigarette.  ‘At least I get to take a cat nap on your bed,’ I said with a sigh as I rested my head on my folded arms.  ‘Feeling a little delicate this morning huh?’ he said.  ‘You’re a bad influence,’ I grumbled.  ‘Oh last night was all you princess,’ he replied. I looked up at him with a scowl.  ‘Well I’m feeling it now,’ I said.  ‘I’m sure it’s nothing a spot of breakfast can’t fix,’ he said. My stomach churned again, ‘I think it’s just going to be toast for me.’  ‘Well I’m coming now,’ he said climbing out of bed, ‘am I your last wake-up call?’  ‘No,’ I said quietly as he started gathering some belongings so he could head to the bathroom. He didn’t seem to notice my hesitation I said, ‘just Rog left. Bri and John should be down there by now.’ 

‘Okay, well I’m just going to shower and I’ll meet you down there,’ he said as he lingered by the bathroom door. ‘Alright,’ I said peeling myself off of the bed.  ‘Probably a good job you left him till last,’ he said.  ‘Why?’ I asked my curiosity piquing.  ‘He only got back late,’ he said.  ‘Oh?’ I asked trying to remember if I knew the details of last night. Unfortunately, they weren’t there for me to remember.  ‘Yeah,’ he said with a smirk, ‘we came back together but he put you to bed. I left him trying to herd you up the stairs.’ ‘Oh,’ I grimaced, the embarrassment of last night returning.  ‘Looked about as easy as plaiting fog,’ he chuckled and then he ducked into the bathroom and shut the door. I walked out of the room and headed a door down. Roger’s room. 

I knocked gently and listened as I heard movement behind the door which opened a minute later revealing a tired-looking Roger. He was wearing pants but no shirt and I had to admit he looked good. 

‘Hey,’ I mumbled. He nodded but didn’t speak as he ducked back into the room. I followed him, shutting the door quietly as I tried to keep the noise to a minimum so as to not aggravate my headache. I sat down on the bed as he put on his clothes, ignoring me.  ‘Freddie said you helped me get to bed last night,’ I said after a moment, ‘thank you.’ ‘Yeah well better that than you embarrassing yourself again,’ he said as he angrily pulled his T-shirt over his head.  ‘What?’ I asked.  ‘Last night,’ he said folding his arms across his chest, ‘you couldn’t have been more obvious.’ ‘And what exactly was I doing?’ I said folding my own arms across my chest as I stood up.  ‘You don’t remember?’ he scoffed.  ‘Please enlighten me,’ I said.  ‘Throwing yourself at that guy right in front of everyone,’ he said loudly. His words hit me like a ton of bricks as I tried to remember my own actions but found myself coming up short, but my lack of recall didn’t mean his words hadn’t sparked anger in me. 

‘And?’ I said huffily.  ‘And?’ he repeated, ‘it’s embarrassing. Trying to get me to bite because I wouldn’t kiss you.’  ‘Maybe I’m just sick of being your sort of girlfriend. Of being someone who’s good enough for a quick shag but you daren’t be seen out in public with,’ I sneered, ‘did you ever think about that?’  ‘Y/N,’ he sighed, ‘we’ve talked about it-’ ‘Have we?’ I spat, ‘because all I ever remember is you acting like we’re the only two people in the world until there’s actually other people around then it’s like you can’t stand to be with me-’ ‘That’s not how it is?’  ‘Tell me then,’ I said.  ‘Tell you what?’ he asked angrily.  ‘Tell me how it is. Do you even like me? Or am I just someone who’s there when you want to get your leg over?’ I shouted standing up. I panicked for a second. The irony that we were arguing about us not going exclusive when everyone important to us was within earshot wasn’t lost on me.  ‘Of course, I do,’ he sighed, ‘I’m just not ready.’ ‘For what?’ I said, ‘I’m not asking you to marry me, Roger. I’m just asking that we at least acknowledge there’s something between us.’ ‘But we work together you’re part of the team what if I fuck it up?’ he asked quietly sinking down onto his bed. I sighed and took a seat next to him though I didn’t look at him. My gaze fixed on the wall, ‘people split up and still work together Rog. It’s not the end of the world.’ ‘It might be,’ he said quietly. That got my attention, I looked to my right and found him watching me with a worried look. 

‘Why?’ I asked quietly.  ‘Because…’ he mumbled dropping his gaze to his lap, ‘because I think I might sorta really like you.’ ‘Really?’ I asked cursing myself at the amount of hope my voice dripped with.  ‘Yeah,’ he said glancing up at me, ‘so why do we have to label it?’  ‘What just be friends who fuck on occasion?’ I smirked. He looked up at me with a bashful expression, ‘is that what you want?’ ‘Maybe,’ he said.  ‘And what happens if I wanna see someone else huh? Or if you meet some pretty fan on this tour? Do we just pretend that it’s not bothering us?’ I said, ‘because I don’t think I could be okay about that. And I don’t think you are either…if you were I’d have woken up in that guy’s bed this morning.’ ‘Yeah I guess you’re right,’ he said, ‘I just worry that if we…you know become a couple and it doesn’t work out I’ll lose you completely…at least this way we get all those moments together…no pressure. Why can’t we just enjoy it?’ ‘Because it’s not enough for me Rog,’ I whispered, ‘I can’t hang on hoping one day you’ll want to be with me completely. Because if I do I’ll always be stuck. I either need you to take the chance on us or let me go.’

He nodded and I stood up not looking at him. I wandered to the door and opened it, closing it gently behind me. I could feel tears in my eyes but I blinked them away as I headed downstairs to breakfast. The boys were sitting around a dining table, members of the crew dotted at various other tables. I sat down beside Freddie. 

‘How are you feeling darling?’ he asked as he poured me a cup of tea.  ‘Alright,’ I lied.  ‘Well you look less grey now,’ Brian chuckled, ‘so I guess that’s a good sign.’ ‘Well I’m never drinking again,’ I smiled though it felt stiff and forced on my face.  ‘Oh I bet,’ John chuckled.  ‘Yeah a tenner she breaks the bet by the end of the week,’ Freddie said.  ‘There’s what? Three shows this week?’ Brian said calculating the odds in his head, ‘I bet by Wednesday.’  ‘Deal,’ Freddie said offering his hand out to Brian who shook it gracefully.  ‘My life is not a thing to be gambled on,’ I pouted as the waitress put toast on my table.  ‘I beg to differ,’ Freddie said.  ‘You know you’re really underestimating the spite factor in this,’ I said sipping my tea, ‘I’ll hold out all damn year if I have to.’ 

There were some chuckles around the table but as they started planning my downfall Roger appeared at the table sitting down beside me. As they greeted him he threw his arm around my shoulder and pressed a kiss to my temple. I was stunned. The boys shared a glance but they carried on talking as if nothing had happened. I looked at him and he shrugged as he took a piece of toast off my plate. 

I smiled. 

I guess that was my answer. 

[jjtheresidentbaby]

♡ Headcanon Masterlist ♡

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I think my masterlists have been getting crowded so I decided to put all my headcanons here

Stranger Things:

Stranger things characters as Encanto powers 

Steve x little!sister reader headcanons 

Max x Mike friendship headcanons 

Eddie x short little!reader headcanons 

Cg!argyle x little!eddie headcanons 

stranger things classification headcanons 

Rating stranger things relationships 

Steve x Eddie Caregiver Rules headcanons 

Little Mike headcanons 

Caregiver Johnathan headcanons 

Little Steve Harrington headcanons 

Little Eddie Munson headcanons 

Autistic Wheeler Sibling headcanons

Caregiver Nancy Wheeler headcanons 

Little Nancy Wheeler headcanons

Little Lucas Sinclair Headcanons

Caregiver Stancy adopting Little Johnny headcanons

Criminal Minds:

criminal minds classification headcanons 

Little Jj headcanons 

More Little Jj headcanons 

Even More Little Jj headcanons 

Caregiver Penelope headcanons 

Caregiver Alex headcanons 

More Caregiver Alex headcanons 

Little Reid headcanons 

More Little Reid headcanons

Little Jj x Caregiver Emily headcanons

Caregiver Hotchniss x Little Jj headcanons

Little Jj Security Item headcanons

Little Jj workplace headcanons

Little Jj staying home headcanons

Little Jj x Caregiver Em nickname headcanons

Caregiver Jj x Will headcanons

Caregiver Reid headcanons

Flip Emily Prentiss headcanons

Caregiver Luke Alvez headcanons

Little Jj x Caregiver Hotchniss living together headcanons

Little Jj age range with Caregiver Hotchniss headcanons

Caregiver Jj x Will headcanons .2

S.W.A.T:

s.w.a.t classification headcanons 

Caregiver Hondo headcanons 

Caregiver Deacon Kay headcanons 

Comfort Deacon Kay Caregiver headcanons 

Bedtime Routine s.w.a.t Caregiver headcanons 

Jessica Cortez Caregiver headcanons

Marvel:

Caregiver Steve Rogers headcanons

Caregiver (general) Peter Parker headcanons

Caregiver Bruce Banner headcanons

Caregiver Tony Stark headcanons

Little Kate Bishop headcanons

Supernatural:

Caregiver Castiel headcanons

Caregiver Dean & Part Monster Little headcanons

Caregiver Dean & Little Sam headcanons

Caregiver Sam Winchester headcanons

Caregiver Gabriel headcanons

Teen Wolf:

Hale Pack Classification headcanons

McCall Pack Classification headcanons

Puppy Pack Classification headcanons

Caregiver Melissa McCall headcanons

Caregiver Peter Hale headcanons

FNAF:

Little Vanessa x Caregiver Mike headcanons - attached to day 3 moodboard of fictionalagerechallange

Euphoria:

Flip Lexi Howard headcanons

Caregiver Elliot headcanons

School Bus Graveyard:

Little Aiden Clark headcanons

Heartbreak High:

Flip Quinni Gallagher-Jones headcanons

Flip Amerie Wadia headcanons - attached to day 5 moodboard of fictionalagerechallange

Little Spencer ‘Spider’ White headcanons - attached to day 6 moodboard of fictionalagerechallange

Little Ant Vaughn headcanons

Little Harper McLean headcanons

Little Missy Beckett headcanons

Flip Ca$h Piggott headcanons

Little Quinni Gallagher-Jones headcanons

Little Malakai Mitchell headcanons

More Little Quinni Gallagher-Jones headcanons

Little Spencer ‘Spider’ White headcanons [little gear specific]

Ant & Spider Regression Friendship headcanons

Caregiver Malakai Mitchell headcanons

Caregiver Spencer ‘Spider’ White headcanons

Outer Banks:

Little John B headcanons

Little Jj Maybank headcanons [water specific]

The Umbrella Academy:

Little Five Hargreeves headcanons

Little Luther Hargreeves headcanons

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Whispers Among Roses

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/vX8d1Jg by starryeyeddreamerr You knew a thing or two about love and you promised to show the deacon Dick Grayson every single thing you think you know. (or after being sent to the nunnery with a broken heart, you fall for Dick Grayson over time) I don't really know I haven't planned really far ahead just read it, please. I promise its good. Words: 2794, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Teen Titans (Animated Series), Nightwing (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Categories: F/M Characters: Dick Grayson, John Constantine, Reader, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne Relationships: John Constantine/Reader, Dick Grayson/You, Dick Grayson/Reader Additional Tags: Underage Kissing, Teacher-Student Relationship, Alternate Universe - Regency, getting sent to the nunnery, John Constantine Has Issues, John Constantine is a teacher, Priest Dick Grayson, Dick x reader should be the main relationship, I messed up and made the constantine really interesting he was supposed to be a minor character, priest x nun, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'll add more tags, Naive Reader, First Kiss, First Love, First Time read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/vX8d1Jg

[mirkwoodshewolf]

You’re still the smartest girl I know; John Deacon x daughter teen reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys wow my final crunch time at college has kept me REALLY busy with all these final projects that I need to do, so my thanksgiving break is gonna be INSANE with doing all this work that I need to do BUT the good news is is that I had this request done in my downtime that I had, so to the anon who requested this awhile back, I’m SOOO SORRY for getting it to you so late but I hope you love it either way.

I also have updates on a few of my series so I may end up making a post about my writing updates and what all I plan to work on to try and get more organized with all that I have to do. So I’ve got two updates for you guys so I hope you all like this fic.

Warnings: school, mild angst, failing school, FLUFF, Dad!Deacy (cause let’s face it its a warning because he’s FREAKIN ADORABLE!!!) and my unknown knowledge of how Catholic schools work, so if I’m wrong about something, PLEASE send me a comment or an inbox to correct it. 

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@waddles03​

@queendeakyy​

@platawnic​

@kairosfreddie​

___________________________________________________________

I just don’t get it.  My dad graduated with 8 GCE O level and 3 A level in electronics, he’s designed his own amp, and helps with not only the family finances but the band finances too. He’s the smartest guy I know and I share half of his genius, or at least I should.  

I needed to sustain at least a 3.50 average to stay in my current Catholic secondary school but with my failing classes I’m barely at a 2.50.  It’s not that I don’t try to do the work I do the homework and attend the lectures, it’s just that some of my classes like Geometry and Ancient religions, the teachers make the assignments so confusing.

Even when I would write the papers, they always found something to pick at and I end up with either C’s or even D’s on my papers, even when I would stay up all night skimming through book after book to get the required aspects they ask for. Also their quizzes and exams are so unfair, they would tell us this or that would be on the test, but by the time the test came around, absolutely NONE of the stuff they said would be on it, is on it. Hell they’ve put things down that we haven’t even learned yet.

It was currently Fall break and I spending some time with my family for the holiday trying to get my mind off of school.  I was watching over my brothers rough house in the backyard.  God they were so lucky they don’t have to deal with the harsh school life just yet.

“So (y/n) how’s school going love?” I heard my mum say.  I quickly looked up at her and said quickly.

“School’s fine.” She looked at me skeptically.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yeah mum, everything’s fine.” Then fortunately saved by the bell, the doorbell rang and I immediately shot up and said. “I’ll get it!” I quickly raced to the front door and cracked it open.  And there at the door was the mail carrier.  He took out of his bag our mail for the day and he said.

“Here’s your mail ma’am.”

“Thanks Gardner, have a good day.” I said.  He nodded and walked off the curb and continued down the road with his route. I closed the door and skimmed through the mail.  Most of it was bills, some Queen stuff for dad to sign and look over, but then there was a letter from the school sent to me.  At this point my heart was racing.

“Who was that?” Oh shit dad.  I turned around to see him coming down the stairs holding my baby sister who had probably just woken up from her nap.

“Oh just the mail. Mostly bills this time, but then again what else is new. And there’s some Queen stuff for you to look over dad.” I handed him most of the mail but kept the letter from London University for me.

“Well what’s that?”

“What? Oh this oh it’s just junk mail. Something about 20% interest rate on life insurance from a different company. Damn things are just scams anyway. I’ll shred it dad.” I walked up and kissed his cheek then my baby sister before racing upstairs.

As soon as I reached my room, I closed the door and locked it and leaned against it in a panic.  Nervously I opened up the envelope and it read the worst thing I could imagine.

To Miss (Y/n) (M/n) Deacon,

It has come to our attention of your low grades. It is required that your parents come in for a meeting with the Headmaster in regards to your low grades.

At that point my mind went blank as I ignored all that the letter said.  Tears formed in my eyes.  Goddamnit why did they send this letter? Cause first comes the letter, then the phone calls will follow.  I’ve tried so hard to keep my struggles in school away from my parents because I didn’t want them to get involved, that all I needed to do was try better since that’s all teachers seem to push onto me, if not then I’ll make it up in summer school.  

I just wanted to prove that I was as smart as my dad is.

So I hide the letter in the folds of my diary knowing that my parents don’t go snooping around it and putting it in the secret place where I know my snoopy brothers can’t get to it (thank god I change places every week) and tried to forget about it.  It was then a knock was heard at my door.

“(Y/n)? Poppet is everything okay in there?”

“Uhh—yeah dad everything’s fine.”

“Then why is your door locked?”

“I’m changing clothes dad, I’m meeting Stacy and Courtney for a movie later tonight.” There was a brief moment of silence before he said.

“Alright but at least unlock it. We’ve talked about this before, plus your brothers think girls are gross so I doubt they’d pop in on their sister changing.”

“Okay dad sorry.” Thank god he bought it.  I then went over to my phone and tried to make my lie seem real as I called both Stacy and Courtney to meet me at the theater in 15min.

Thankfully since it was the weekend, my parents let me go out later than usual so long as I was back before ten.  My dad gave me some money for the tickets and food and we kissed each other goodbye and I drove off to the theater.

I soon met my two best friends and we decided to just walk around the mall instead going to see a movie.  It was there I told the girls everything.  As they were trying on new stuff from a new store called The Gap, I said to them.

“What am I gonna do girls?”

“Well you know me girl, if I were you I’d just come clean.” Said Courtney.

“Are you crazy?! No way can she tell them about this. Okay chick this is what you do. You answer any calls the school makes and come up with any and every excuse you’ve got.” Stacy said as she peeked over her changing room into Courtney’s.

“Stace, no offense but your parents may buy into that but I’ve met her mum and dad and they aren’t stupid like yours are.”

“Yeah you got a point. Hell I could go to prison for murder and my parents wouldn’t care.”

“Guys hello! Back to me.” I begged.

“Sorry. Well looks like your screwed chickadee.”

“Oh gee thanks Stace.”

“Look (y/n). All I can tell you is that you won’t be able to hide this forever. Just—show them the note and tell them the truth. I’m sure they’ll understand if you explain it to them. And I can back you up about Mr. Crowley. Guy’s a right up arsehole if you ask me. Gave me -20 points because I used the wrong citation for the Bibliography page. And it was only one source that was labeled wrong” Said Courtney.

“Yeah and our Geometry teacher Miss. Ringo, I can barely understand what she’s saying with that thick Dutch accent of hers. Gave me a 30% on our last exam.”

“That’s because all you did was doodle and call her an old bat.” I said bluntly.

“Oh yeah. But oh man you should’ve seen the look on her face on the last homework assignment we had.”

“I don’t even wanna know.” Said Courtney.

“Trust me you don’t.” I vouched.

“Hey come on, let’s forget about school, get you to try on some clothes. We’ll go to the food court and get your mind off of things. Sound good?” Stacy said as she came out wearing a new jean jacket with suspenders underneath.  I nodded and said with a smile.

“Thanks guys, you’re the best friends I could ask for.”

“Hey divas in diapers remember? The three musketeers. The triple threat angelz.”

“With a Z because…..”

“We’re bad bitches!” we all exclaimed as we held our right hands out in a fist touching each other’s in a triangle shape.  And so that’s how it was, the girls helped me get my mind off of the letter and the stress of school with a good Girl’s day out.

A couple days later I was back in school in my Ancient Religions class. Mr. Crowley of course barely allowed any time for me to fully write down what he had on the board because he immediately went to the next thing.  He never once asked if anyone had any questions and if someone stopped him, he’d slam the ruler down on the student’s desk and either ask them to meet him after class, or just give them detention.

“Alright students; I’m going to give you your final assignment for the semester for you to do just before winter break.” Everyone groaned.  He had just give us a 10 page paper on how Christianity as a whole effected the Global conquest, and now he’s giving us another essay to do. “Hey, hey, hey, hey! No complaints you miscreants!”

But just before he could continue, the intercom beeped above us.

“Mr. Crowley?”

“Yes?” he said annoyedly.

“Will you please send Miss. Deacon into the office.”

“She’s on her way.”

“Thank you.”

“(Y/n) Deacon.” At that point everyone but Courtney all made the ‘oooo busted’ vocals. I flipped them off as Mr. Crowley made me my hall pass so that I wouldn’t get caught by a teacher patrolling the halls.  I grabbed my bag and left the classroom.

I walked down the second floor staircase, down to the main level and turned towards the entrance where the main office was.  I walked in and I said.

“I’m (Y/n) Deacon. I was told to come here from Mr. Crowley’s class.” The receptionist said.

“Ahh yes Miss. Deacon. The Headmaster would like to speak with you.” Oh shit. This is probably about that letter.  I swallowed nervously and hung my bag further up my shoulder and walked down the corridor towards the Headmaster’s office.  It felt like the walkway was getting longer as I walked towards that dreaded office room, that was until finally I arrived at it.

Slowly I reached up and knocked on it.  There was a brief period of silence before a low voice said.

“Come in.” I opened the door and there standing at the grand desk was Headmaster Byron.  He was a fairly older man (if I had to make a guess I’d say currently around Miami’s age). He was a bit—you now stout shape wise. He was going bald and he wore glasses over his hazel eyes. “Ahh Miss. Deacon please sit down.” I walked in and nervously sat down at the chair in front of me.

“You—wanted to see me sir?”

“Yes. I’ve called you down here regarding a letter I had sent over the fall break. I expected to hear a call from your parents but I hadn’t heard anything back from them. Is there a problem?” Oh god what do I say to him?

“Well I—I guess the mail service was just a little slow. Because we haven’t received the letter just yet.”

“Hmm well that’s unusual. Usually the mail service is properly on time. I mean at least we’re more organized than the American system at least to my knowledge.”

“Yeah guess they must’ve lost it.” I said nervously fiddling with my fingers, anxiously picking at my nails.

“In that case; I can send you with another copy of the letter. But if I don’t hear anything within 24hours expect the first phone call.” I nodded as he handed me the same letter that I had gotten in the mail over the break.  I thanked him and quickly headed out of the office. On my way back to class I ripped the letter up into as many pieces as I could before discarding it into the nearest bin and returned to class like nothing happened.

After school I was in my room trying to make sense of the math homework I had to deal with and that’s when a knock was heard at my open door.  I looked up and there stood my mum.

“Hey love. So you’re dad’s working late tonight with the band so I’m ordering a pizza for dinner. What would you like on yours?”

“Get me a full cheese and my toppings are sausage and pepperoni.”

“You got it. Doing homework?” I nodded solemnly. “Which class is it for?”

“Geometry.”

“Oh yeah, I remember taking that class. Hardest thing I ever knew. In fact all math was difficult for me. Thank god for your dad though, he was always better at finances than I was. That’s how we met as a matter of fact, I was struggling with my Algebra homework and he offered to help me since we were in the same class together.” Lucky her that she at least had dad to help her, meanwhile I on the other hand had absolutely no one to help me.

Everyone was in it for themselves, not even the teacher was willing to give us tutoring sessions if we didn’t get any of the stuff taught in class. He just expected us to memorize and do everything correctly.

“Say, speaking of geometry did you get the midterm results back yet?” Oh god that’s right. Dad actually skipped out on Queen rehearsals to help tutor me for the upcoming fall midterm exam.

Unfortunately for all that hard work, nothing we had practiced was on the midterm, half the stuff was gibberish to me so I just wrote random answers that I could and I ended up with an F.

“He uhh—he got super busy grading our other stuff that he didn’t have time to look over the midterms. But he said hopefully in the next week or two he’ll get to it.”

“Are you sure?” I nodded and she looked at me skeptically.

“Okay, if you say so. I’ll call you when dinner arrives okay?”

“Sounds good mum. Love you.”

“Love you too.” She kissed the top of my head and left my room.  I turned away and tossed my books and homework off my bed and buried my face into my bedsheets and softly began to cry.

Why? Why does this have to happen to me?! Why can’t I just get the damn work? Why do I have to be such a fucking idiot!?!?

Days passed and I still didn’t have the heart to tell my parents that I was failing school.  And when the phone started ringing I tried to make an effort to try and answer it before they did, fearing that it was the school.

Some calls it was to which I would make excuses for the school and then tell my mum and dad that it was just boring telemarketers trying to sell us stuff. Other times it’d be Uncle Freddie or uncle Roger calling for Deacy about some Queen business stuff (and of course I chatted with them, I’ve known them ever since I was a baby, plus Freddie was my godfather—or I should say fairy godmother).

But it wasn’t until one day when I came home from an afterschool football game Stacy and Courtney invited me to, that I would pay dearly for the lie that I had been trying to keep.

“Yeah I know and when Bobby finally scored the winning goal I swear it was a one and a million shot he got that!” Stacy exclaimed as we got out of her car and walked up my driveway before stopping at the gate.

“I tell you you’ve got one lucky man right there Stace. Your boy’s gonna go far in football.” Said Courtney.

“All I know is that for the first time in decades our school is finally in the playoffs and that we might have a shot of winning the district championship since 1971.” I said.

“Well we definitely have the best team to get us there. Not to mention the cutest.” Courtney said before snickering towards the end.

“I’ll drink to that.” I said taking a shot of my water.

“(Y/n). Can you come in here please?” I looked up to see my dad standing there by the door.  His arms crossed over his chest and I could tell something was wrong.

“Yeah dad I’ll be right there. See you girls Monday then?”

“We’ll save you a seat at the cafeteria before homeroom.” The girls then walked back to the car and they drove off.  I opened the gate and trotted up the stairs before standing in front of him.

“Is something wrong dad?”

“Come in the house and let’s talk.” He placed a hand on my shoulder and guided me inside.  As we walked through the house towards the kitchen, I could feel the tension in the air. It was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.  My mum sat there at the kitchen table looking distraught almost. “Have a seat.” Okay now I was getting a little freaked out.

I sat down and that’s when dad stood behind mum placing his hands on her shoulders.

“(Y/n), has something been going on at school that you’re not telling us?” asked my mum concerned.

“No—why do you ask?”

“Well we caught Robert and Michael reading your diary and—”

“They what!? MICHAEL! ROBERT GET YOUR ARSES DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW YOU LITTLE BUGGERS!!!”

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Language and lower that tone in your voice!” dad snapped at me. “We handled the boys, but it was then we found this.” He took something out of his pocket before unfolding it and placing it down right in front of me on the table.  My heart sunk and my throat grew dry.

It was the first letter sent in by my school.

“So we called the school and they said they’ve been trying to get in touch with us. And that you said we didn’t receive any letter the first time around so the Headmaster gave you a second letter.” Mum stated more in an interrogating tone than the concerned tone she had earlier.

“Have you really been failing your classes? And this time don’t. Lie. To us.”

“No!” I exclaimed.

“They said you’re barely holding a 2.50 GPA.”

“Well I—I just….I don’t mean to I-I-I-I….the teachers they’re…..” I kept rambling as I felt tears in my eyes and my throat clenched. “I don’t get why I’m being target.”

“The better question is why did you lie to us!? You’ve known about your grades for what weeks? And you lied to us every time a grade was mentioned! Do you have any idea the level of betrayal you’ve given to me and your mother!?” my dad’s voice slowly raised up in anger.

I tucked away in fear at his intimidating voice.  He rarely and I say this with a big emphasis that my dad rarely gets mad, but when he does—oh god help us all.  I didn’t answer.  Couldn’t answer him.

“(Y/n) (m/n) Deacon answer me when I’m talking to you!” he snapped.  I looked up fearfully and ashamed and I did the only thing that was running through my mind.

Run.

I got up and as quick as I could I raced out of the house and down the street.  I fucked up. I know, but at this point it was too late. Just seeing my dad get angry with me, I knew he hated me now.

I ran all the way down the street and turned left and ran towards old widow Johannsson’s back garden.  I opened the gate that stood around her AC vent and locked the door so that no one could open it.  I leaned against the corner of the gate and just sobbed as hard as I could.

All of my fears and sorrow came out as I wept hysterically and choked on my sobs, that’s when I heard my dad’s voice calling out my name.  I held my hand over my mouth to try and keep quiet as his voice got louder and louder.  I soon saw him through the cracks in the fence as he looked around.  Unfortunately a sniffle just had to come out and soon dad turned towards the fence.

“(Y/n)?”

“Please just go away and let me cry in peace.” I choked out.

“That’s not going to happen, now c’mon open the gate.”

“No you—you already hate me.” He scoffed out a sigh.

“Wha—what makes you think I hate you?” he asked in disbelief.

“You only yell when you hate someone. And now you hate me. You hate me that I lied to you. You hate me for keeping secrets. And you hate me because I’m stupid.”

“Hello? What—what is going on out here?” widow Johansson came out on top of her deck and looked down towards us.

“I’m sorry Valarie but—could you give us a few minutes?” she must’ve looked down and saw me because that’s when she slowly backed off and allowed my dad to talk to me again. “(Y/n), love I—I don’t hate you. Yeah I’m upset because you lied to your mum and I but I could never, ever hate you.”

“But you do dad don’t deny it. I kept this from you and you’ll never forgive me. You’ll never love me again because I’m a stupid bitch who can’t understand anything!”

“First of all you are not a stupid bitch. You are a brilliant, smart, beautiful young girl. And I will always love you no matter what.”

“Stop saying that. Please just go away please…..” I trailed off before pleading out one last time. “Please.” With that I didn’t hear another response from him as I continued to softly weep.  I could hear footsteps walking up widow Johansson’s back deck and then the back door closed.  I looked up and saw my dad as well as widow Johansson gone.  I wiped my tears and just curled myself into a ball.

I don’t know how much time passed but I knew it wasn’t long, maybe 5-7 minutes because the next thing I hear are footsteps walking back down the deck and my dad sitting himself down against the gate.  It was then I heard a guitar being strummed before a familiar tune was being played.

It was strange to hear it on guitar instead of an electric piano like it was on the record but the tune was easily recognizable, especially when my dad softly began singing the lyrics.  And sure he didn’t have as good a voice as my uncles did but—he still made the song count.

Oh, you're the best friend that I ever had I've been with you such a long time You're my sunshine and I want you to know That my feelings are true I really love you Oh, you're my best friend

While it is true that my dad wrote this song for my mum back when a Night at the Opera came out, he also written it for me as well.  Because when he first played it for us, he said he wanted a song dedicated to his favorite girls.  

So taking the electric piano he practiced and practiced till he knew how to play the tune and since then the song’s been like a comforting lullaby to me.  And he’s played and sung it to me ever since.

Ooh, you make me live Whenever this world is cruel to me I got you to help me forgive Ooh, you make me live now honey Ooh, you make me live

You're the first one When things turn out bad You know I'll never be lonely You're my only one And I love the things I really love the things that you do Oh, you're my best friend

Ooh, you make me live

I'm happy at home You're my best friend

He stopped playing and slightly turned towards me.  I wiped away my tears and just like it always did, it made me stop crying.

“Guess I still got it huh?”

“Shut up.” I muttered which made him softly chuckle.

“Can you please open the gate love? Let me see my best friend.” He asked.  I slowly scooted towards the gate and slowly reached for the handle.  I held onto it for a while and I pulled one side down which caused the other side to lift up.  The gate slowly opened and there sitting a few feet away from me was my dad.  “There she is.”

I sniffled and wiped away the tearstains but I was still afraid to look him in the eye for more than a second.  I felt his hand cup the side of my face wiping away the tears.

“Do you think you can talk to me now?�� I nodded. “Okay. Now (y/n) please explain to me why you lied to us about your grades?”

“Because I—I wanted to prove myself.”

“Prove yourself about what?”

“That I could be as smart as you. You’re the smartest man I know and you never seem to get stumped about anything. You graduates college with the highest in your major, you’ve built your own amps from old junk, and you handle both our finances as well as the bands. But—the schoolwork I’m given is so beyond hard. I tried my best dad it’s not that I don’t do the homework because I do. I really do, it’s just that…..”

“Hey, hey poppet. Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay.” I sniffled and harshly wiped my tears away but my dad stopped me and replaced my thick sleeve with his gentle but calloused fingers.  “I know you do the homework. I’ve seen you do it and so has your mum.”

“But the teachers make it so unfair to learn. They say this or that will be on the test but then something we haven’t even learned yet is what ends up as majority of the questions. Or they’re not consistent with what they want on the papers before giving us a bigger paper the next day after the previous one. Dad I—I’m a failure. And I didn’t want you to be ashamed of having a stupid daughter like me.”

“Oh (y/n),” he scooted closer to me and cupped both sides of my face forcing me to look up at him with teary eyes. “I am in no way, nor will I ever be ashamed to have you as my daughter. You’re my first baby girl and I love you soo much. You don’t have to be a genius like me to be my daughter, because you are smart in your own clever way.”

“But I—I’m failing my classes, how can I be smart when I’m failing?”

“You’re still trying, are you not?” I shrugged.

“I guess.”

“Then that proves your smart. Oh my sweet girl I wish you had come to me about this sooner instead of feeling like you had to hide this from me.”

“I’m sorry daddy.” I softly choked out.

“It’s okay love. Now come here, you deserve cuddles and kisses right now.” I immediately fell into his arms and buried myself into his shoulder.  He rubbed my back in soothing circles and stroked through my hair. “We’ll get this sorted out okay? But promise me that you’ll never lie to us about school again, okay?”

“I promise…..never again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And they did just that.  I showed my parents everything regarding exams, homework and showed just how unfair the work was for me.  I showed them my notes and told them what my teachers were really like.

The next day they scheduled a meeting with the headmaster and they talked about how the teachers are treating me and my fellow classmates unfairly with too much work and not unfair teachings of not asking for help.

Now one would think after telling you this I got off scot-free right? Wrong. I was grounded for the same amount of time that I had lied to my parents about school, so that meant over a week and a half of no TV, no after school activities and no phone privileges.

But after getting the teachers fired and currently dealing with substitutes for the rest of the year, whenever dad wasn’t busy with Queen; he made a promise to sit down with me and if there was anything I was stuck on, he’d help me with it. No matter how long it took.

[rovewritesit]

Angel Of My Dreams (Chapter 5) John Deacon x Reader Series

GIF: @johndeac​

Apologies for the delay! Work has been an absolute shit fest. The big show I’m on got canceled, but we still have to finish the season at some point so oof. Also, my boss is moving to Italy? Pray for my sanity, folks.

Series Summary: After reluctantly joining a band with your childhood best friends, you are thrust into oncoming stardom with no sea legs and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. But you just might find your way, thanks to some seasoned pros by your side. And the interest of one particular bassist.

This series is a work of fiction and is loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Strong language. Feelings of anxiety. Angst (oooo!)

Chapter Notes: I've rewritten this chapter so many times that I don't even know what it is anymore. Angst is hard, my dudes! Why can't it all be flirty glances and quick banter?!

Song/Title Inspiration: Angel - Fleetwood Mac

Songs Mentioned:

Moonlight in Vermont - Frank Sinatra

Blues Run The Game - Jackson C. Frank

Taglist: @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @brianmays-hair @deacyblues @squishy-geckboye @hae-bee @aprilaady @theresalexis @uglipotata72829

- - - - - - -

September 1982 - The Music Inn, New York City

“Bri, get a load of all these fucking maracas!”

Brian makes his way over to where Roger is gazing at a massive wall adorned with shaker-filled shelves, dipping his head low to avoid the sea of guitars hanging from the ceiling above his long frame. 

Queen was back in New York for their first-ever appearance on Saturday Night Live. Finding time in between the intensive rehearsals during the week had been hard, but Freddie insisted they would make the time for his favorite New Yorkers. When the time was finally found, he, of course, was unavailable, off antiquing at some of Manhattan’s luxury spots but promised to meet up with the group later on. 

The Limbs managed to snag the other three men for a trip to the historic Music Inn. Nestled in the heart of Greenwich Village, the dingy treasure trove was located a stone’s throw away from the city’s most prominent folk clubs that boasted discovering the talents of Bob Dylan and Simon & Garfunkel. 

You were quite confident that your newfound English friends would love it. Every visible space was stuffed or covered with an abundance of musical paraphernalia. So much so that you had been in the store dozens of times without ever finding out what color the walls were. Its layout was always changing to fit the ever-growing amount of items displayed, the familiar specks of dust that sparkled in the sunlight being the only constants.

“Hey, Jeff!” Steve calls out to the eccentric owner. “Where are these from?” 

The aging hippie shuffles over. “Mostly South America,” he explains in his usual gravelly drawl. “A customer brought back some new shekeres from West Africa last week that have a nice sound to them.” Jeff motions up the sprawling wall. Roger immediately grabs a few, testing the sounds out against the ones Steve is already playing with - the two of them like kids in a candy store.

Jeff had been a good friend to The Limbs since their early teen years, having let the group spend hours on end attempting to learn every exotic instrument they could get their hands on. Anyone who entered the shop could count on him as a spirit guide of sorts to a wealth of worldly music. And while The Limbs had kept their first album fairly plain in context, they were already itching, particularly Steve, to experiment on the next album. Whenever that would be.

Now that a few more of their singles were moderately successful hits, Columbia Records was focused on milking it for all that it was worth. The execs were currently setting up an extensive American tour of the Mid - West Coast part of the country, all the major cities they hadn’t hit on their first tour. 

“Y/N,” Jeff gestures for you to follow him, probably excited to show you a new find seeing as you were always eager and willing to give them a test run. You make your way down the staircase lined with large balalaikas to the musty lower level filled with various sound equipment and electronic instruments. 

“What on god’s green earth would you use that for?” you hear Rich’s deep voice implore. He rolls his eyes as Eddie moons over an ornately engraved mandolin.

“It worked for Rod Stewart, didn’t it? That mandolin solo in Maggie May shredded,” he retorts. “Plus, look how pretty she is!”

You watch your feet as you carefully maneuver around the amps and pedals haphazardly strewn around the floor, following Jeff to the back of the room - taking special care to step around John, who is crouched low looking over the wiring of a particularly grody-looking amp.

Upon entering the store, he had taken off on his own right away, immediately entranced by the sprawling selection all about him. But you had caught the worn, far-off look in his eyes when he greeted you with a short wave earlier. You try not to let the lack of attention bother you as you pass him without so much as a glance up. The heartfelt conversation you had the last time they were in town had rooted itself in your memory. Spilling your guts like you did that night wasn't a common occurrence for you- figuring you were already easy enough to read due to the panicked expression often etched onto your face. 

Why him? Even your bandmates weren’t privy to the babblings of your intimate thoughts. It couldn’t just be his boyish tooth-gap or the pleasing line of his straight nose. Maybe it was the confusing mix of nerves and comfort you felt whenever in his presence. It was unlike the persistent butterflies you were used to when around attractive humans. Feeling instead like a gentle humming that you somehow sensed everywhere at once.

You’re brought out of your swimming thoughts as Jeff clears his throat loudly to get your attention. You must’ve been staring blankly at the floor for quite a while. He gestures to a bulky item draped in a tarp, as you give him a small apologetic smile.

“Oh yes, very pretty,” you smirk at him.

He rolls his eyes as he attempts to sweep the tarp off in a dramatic reveal, but in reality, it gets stuck. The man scrambles to uncover it, and as soon as it peeks out, you gasp.

“A theremin!”

You gaze at the ordinary-looking wooden cabinet in awe. It must be old, seeing as they were mostly compact now.

“You haven’t had one in ages,” you marvel, locking eyes with Jeff.

“Which means it’s been a while since I’ve heard your ambient screeches plaguing these walls.”

Your finger points to him in protest. “Hey, I was getting better until you sold the last one on me!”

“Well, I didn’t see you making a bid for it,” he playfully shrugs.

“Let’s hear those screeches!” Eddie yells out. Rich claps his hands excitedly beside him. You poke your tongue out at them, but your eyes catch John’s, and you quickly close your mouth. Still crouched, he looks on with mild curiosity wrinkled on his brow. He lightly raises them at you in silent encouragement.

You slowly make your way behind the instrument as Jeff plugs it into the wall. Turning one of the knobs, it hums to life as you check the metal attachments protruding from the wood frame. It really is old. You have no idea how to even begin to calibrate it. Taking a deep breath, you timidly bring your hands up in position.

It lets out a high pitched wail that burns your ears from being so close, and you yank your hands away from the field of current. Eddie and Rich erupt into cheers while John slowly stands, moving a bit closer to see the mechanism properly.

Jeff lightly pushes you back towards it in a gentle coax. This time you slowly bring your curled hand a reasonable distance away from the pitch antenna, keeping your other low on the one for volume. Squeezing your eyes shut to focus on the tone, you slowly move until you find your starting note. It was all about sense memory and your ears to fill the gaps with nothing to physically touch. 

Uncurling your fingers, you begin the opening notes of Moonlight in Vermont - the one song you had somewhat taught yourself through hours of painstaking practice. You fumble a bit, eliciting a squeak or two while trying to remember the hand placements that produce the proper notes. While you might “play” many instruments, you were middling at many, master of none. You make it through the first verse before your head starts to pound from your jaw-clenched concentration.

“Fuck the mandolin, let’s get that for the next album!” you hear Rich tell Eddie.

“Ah, yes, you’ve heard Pet Sounds. Now prepare your ears for The Limb’s sophomore attempt, Ghost Sounds,” 

Their banter is drowned out as John chimes in. “How on earth did you learn that?” You meet his struck expression and shrug lightly.

“Don’t downplay it, Bun. It’s pretty fucking cool,” Rich assures you. “And her knowing ASL also helps,” he explains to John.

“Sign language?”

“Oh yeah, Y/N’s mom is deaf,” Eddie reveals bluntly. You shoot him a look.

“Sorry, hard of hearing,” he holds his hands out in defense.

John is silent for a moment as he mulls the information over, causing a speck of tension in the room.

“Your mother’s never heard you sing?” he asks incredulously as if he can’t possibly imagine it.

You give a small smile. “No, I guess she hasn’t. But I was in the car with her the first time I heard us on the radio. I turned the treble down and the bass all the way up and she bopped along to the beat pretty well.”

Rich chuckles lightly at the story. “She’s always been hoot, hasn’t she?”

You nod gently. “Aptly put. That’s how she describes herself as a matter of fact.”

John shoves his hands deep in his pockets as he takes a look around the room, his cheeks a light pink. You're unsure of why.

“I’m gonna head out for a quick smoke,” you decide, patting Jeff on the shoulder. “I know how you hate it.”

He gives your hand a light squeeze before you make your way upstairs, hoping to catch John’s eyes, but he avoids yours yet again. 

A pleasing blend of harmonies can be heard as you hit the landing. You peek your head around a large assortment of bongos to find Brian strumming a small acoustic on the other side of the store. Roger, Steve, and Lawrence all crammed around, the four of them singing a rendition of Blues Run the Game. 

Your heart warms at the sight, remembering the times when you and the boys would sit around a campfire and croon out the same sad tune. Eddie and Rich will be pissed they missed this. Steve notices your presence and silently ticks his head for you to come join. You hold up your pack of Marlborough’s in response to him before finally slipping out the front, trying your best to not jingle the adorned bells too much.

A cool breeze promptly passes through the knit of your sweater. It’s late September, and New York has begun to really cool off. You pull down the sleeves to cover your hands as you light your cigarette, wincing a bit on the first inhale. It was a leftover habit from your college days- scarcely used, only in social situations, or to get out of awkward ones.

Taking in the familiar street, you can’t help but giggle at the day you were having. To be showing Queen around your old hangout still felt absurd. No matter how genuinely they seemed to like the company of your band, you couldn’t fathom them wanting to spend the day with you all. Weren’t there bigger and better musicians in this city to be hanging out with? 

The sound of a lighter flicking to life comes from your left, and you turn. John leans against the faded wall as he takes a drag, his eyes trained on the dirty sidewalk. 

“I’m sorry, i- if I offended you with my comment about your mother,” he professes quietly. 

Your brows shoot up in confusion. “What?”

“We have a friend whose father is deaf. A lovely man. I shouldn’t have been so insensitive.” He sighs, finally turning to face you. “It’s just that the memory of hearing your voice for the first time isn’t something one can easily shake. I mean that in a way that- it’s just a shame really. For her to not be able to share in it when it’s something so...” he looks as if he’s racking his brain for an appropriate word. “Well, singular.”

You suck in a breath at his words. In all your years, you had never gotten that as a response to your mother’s disability. It was mostly a polite, “Oh, really? I’m so sorry to hear that.” His honesty and consideration for your feelings knock the present hum of your body up to 100. 

You flinch as gentle burning hits your fingers, and you look down at your forgotten cigarette, quickly flicking it to the ground before crushing it under your heel. John shifts his weight from side to side, never taking his eyes off of you while he waits for you to collect your thoughts.

“I write out my lyrics for her so she can read them as poems,” you state simply, smiling up at him. “Sometimes she makes up her own melodies and sings them around the house. It’s not the easiest on the ears, but she’s pretty inventive.” His eyes crinkle as he returns your grin - his first genuine one of the day.

“So she’s heard music before?”

“Oh yeah. She has nerve deafness, which didn’t start till her late twenties. She actually spent a lot of time around here when she was younger. Bitter End and The Gaslight are just a few blocks away.”

He hums lightly as he stares at you- like you’re a puzzle whose pieces are just beginning to fit together.

“Can you teach me something in sign language?”

Once again, your brows shoot up, shocked by his response. You blink a few times, trying to think of what to say. Going with the only thing that pops to mind, you sign out a phrase as he watches your hands intently.

“And what does that mean?”

You smirk, “You are a cheesy cow.”

“I’m sorry?” he laughs out.

You repeat it back slowly while signing along. “You. Are. A. Cheesy. Cow. It’s the first thing my mother taught me how to sign.”

He runs his hand over his jaw as he chuckles. “Rich was right. A hoot she must be.”

“I’m pretty shit, to be honest, and she read lips, so it’s mostly used for snide comments during extended family gatherings.”

You watch as he puts out his cigarette and carefully takes a step closer to you. “I’m assuming your colourful vocabulary extends to those instances as well.”

“Right you are.”

“Freddie will love that,” he snickers. “He always seems to collect vulgarities in other languages wherever we go.”

Your attention is torn away as a sleek black car rolls up to a stop at the curb. It’s out of place in the middle of the street filled with old and worn buildings, which can similarly describe the people who mill about.

“Speak of the Queen herself,” you laugh as a sunglass-clad Freddie steps onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, isn’t this quaint!” he exclaims, peering into the shop window. He straightens as he turns to you, hands-on-hips.

“Deacy. Thumper. Are we fans of freezing our tits off, or shall we go inside?”

You give John a small smile and push yourself off the wall, making your way over to Freddie, who immediately pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. The bells against the door ring out as you all enter the shop.

“Ah, Deacy,” Brian pokes his head out from one of the narrow aisles, still in a constant crouch to avoid the instruments above his head. “I was looking for you. Found these adorable teeny guitars I thought might be good to bring back for the kids. What do you think?”

“Kids?” you mumble to yourself as John makes his way over to inspect them.

“Brian has two, and John’s already up to 3. Maybe we should’ve nicknamed him Bunny.” Freddie laughs, nudging your arm. “You know… fucking like rabbits,” he expands due to your lack of chuckling.

He leans into your field of vision as he studies your statue-like expression, eyebrows knit in confusion. His eyes take in your ashen face and your lifeless expression. You weren’t even sure if you were breathing. When you lock your eyes with his, you know he understands from the sheer size of how big they become. He straightens up, glancing around quickly as if looking for something to put out a fire.

“Freddie!” Steven dances over, clicking a pair of castanets in his hands. “I wanted to show you thi-”

“So sorry, love, we can’t. Y/N promised to come to a fitting with me, and we’re already late," he announces loudly, pulling you by the arm and out the door before anyone can react.

- - - - - - -

You blankly stare at your reflection in the long mirror. Freddie had instructed his stylist to pull some outfits for you to parade around in as he tried on a bevy of metallic coats.

“You’re an idiot,” you tell the girl staring back at you.

Freddie sashays over, a shag jacket swaying with him as he places his hands on your shoulders, surveying the strappy dress you were currently squeezed into.

“Oh yes, this will do for the after-party,” he instructs.

“I’m not going.”

He heaves a deep sigh. “Darling, you already refused the ticket I got you for the show. You’re coming to the party,” he declares, turning away to look at more options.

“This isn’t really me…” you mumble, gesturing to the dress.

He regards you with a small smile. “Exactly. I say this with love, but you need a look, Y/N. Something that makes you feel unstoppable,” he gestures to his body as he twirls towards you. “Don’t you want to shock them?”

You chew your lip as you ponder that sentiment. Dawn usually just shoved you into whatever ensemble she had picked for you - leather jackets, monochromatic sets, tight jumpsuits. She kept hoping you’d find a style you fancied, but you had yet to find anything remotely likable under the lights of the stage.

“To be honest, I just want to be able to feel comfortable out there," you sigh. "But I can’t strut around in flashy outfits or conduct a whole crowd like you do." Huffing as you collapse onto one of the white couches around you. He perches beside you, throwing an arm around the back of the sofa.

“Then don’t,” he says simply.

You snort a response as you cross your arms over your chest.

“I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but have you tried showing them a bit more of yourself?”

“I can’t do that.”

He turns to you now, grabbing your attention with his eyes.

“And why not?” he questions.

You gaze down at your hands, which you’re now wringing together in your lap. “What if it’s nothing spectacular?” you whisper out the criticism that you'd drilled into your mind for the past year.

Freddie laughs lightly as he stands. “Let’s not start lying to ourselves, shall we?” He moves in front of you and kneels, now at eye level, making so you can’t look away.

“Sometimes people go to a concert for an escape. A big bloody show with dazzling lights and petite men galavanting around a stage in spandex tights,” he smiles. 

“But most of the time they just want to find a piece of themselves in it, don’t they? Commonality. They want to hear you, see you, and feel just a little less alone than we all know we are. I saw just a slice of it at your concert, and it was indeed something spectacular. So take that as you will.”

You’re not one to cry much, but your eyes soften as you take in the icon of a man in front of you. A man loved by millions, who was currently filling in as your personal rock n’ roll fairy godmother.

“You’re a fantastic person, you know that?” you tell him genuinely.

“Yes,” he quips as he gets to his feet. “Now, are we done scurrying around the real problem at hand?”

You sigh as you look away, firmly willing yourself not to break the dam of bottled emotions threatening to spill out. Why couldn't you just feel numb? It would be better than the wave of childish self-pity you found yourself in.

Freddie huffs at your reaction. “Oh, you brat. Sorry to tell you, but you’re an open book, my dear. And not one of those big pompous things Brian reads. A bloody children’s book. One filled with pictures.”

You're sure you’ve now bitten through the entire top layer of your lip as you contemplate how to even begin.

“I’m an idiot,” you shrug to yourself yet again.

“No,” he points a finger at you. “You’re decidedly not. Though I am curious as to how someone who’s as big of a fan as your friends say you are, missed out on that detail.”

“I’m not sure either. I mean, I listen to your albums and go to your show, but I guess I didn’t pour over the tabloids or press interviews or anything like that.”

Freddie nods along as he sifts through another rack of jackets, choosing an incredibly tight white leather number.

“I assumed you knew,” he answers while glancing at his reflection. “And I would say Deacy should know better, but he’s not quite himself at the moment.”

“What do you mean?” you press, suddenly much more interested in the conversation.

He turns to you, palms up in explanation. “It’s not that he wouldn’t normally be charmed by your shy presence and occasionally crass mouth… But I’m a bit worried he’s finding comfort in your smiles for the wrong reasons.”

“Huh?”

Sighing heavily as if debating if he should keep skirting around his words, he holds your gaze. “An impending divorce is crippling lonely, even if it is somewhat amicable.”

His mouth is brought into a pout as you suck in a sharp breath. 

Divorce. All your previous interactions play through your head from a different angle. Pity sneaks up on you as you remember John’s advice he’d given you. The concept of home is a funny thing. You scoff out loud at how your childlike crush had skewed your interpretation of your relationship with the man.

“I’m usually the one singing his praises,” Freddie muses, breaking you out of your inner monologue of resentment towards yourself. “But he seems more lost than usual at the moment.” 

He gently lifts your chin. “I don’t normally meddle in- well, actually I do. Just don’t want to see you get hurt, Bunny. Not when the world is soon to be at your feet.”

"I'm fine," you lie, gently brush away his gesture. "I barely even know the guy. I was just shocked to have my silly fascination with him interrupted. Stupid, really."

"Don't do that," he exhales. "Don't put it on yourself. You'd have to be blind to ignore the fact that he's quite taken with you."

"I'm fine," you repeat, making your way into the back to change out of the ridiculous dress that suddenly felt even tighter now.

Shutting the door slowly, you let out a deep breath. It's all good, you tell yourself. Of course you got caught up in the attention of a world-renown musician. Who wouldn't? It's nothing special. As Freddie said, he's not even acting like himself. Although you were indeed in true form- getting caught up by the slightest of interactions. Unconsciously playing them as a loop in your head. You can't help but cringe at your own escalation of the situation.

Squaring your shoulders, you take in the image of yourself in the dress again. Perhaps it was time for you to shock them all.

- - - - - - -

“And so my grandfather goes out to the alley and sees her just wailing on this scrawny man. I mean, really going to town. So he pulls her off him, and the dude’s got a black eye and a bloody nose. And he’s like, “Thanks mate, thought she was gonna kill me there.”

Roger ruffles your hair in response to your poor attempt at a British accent. The group of cast and crew around you chuckle at the gesture. 

You had decided that if you were going to be forcibly dragged to this after-party by your bandmates, you would at least aim to make it worthwhile. A debut of your new mentality.  One where you weren't just acting the part of a rising rock star, but living it. 

Which is why at the moment, you found yourself the center of attention, surrounded by the cast and crew of SNL laughing along to your amusing story. But this was all hinged on you carefully, avoiding the presence of John Deacon at all costs. Which, in reality, wasn't very hard to do- you had yet to see him since arriving an hour ago.

“Oh my god, who was it?!” the young cast member beside you presses. You think her name is Julia, but the sheer amount of people you'd been introduced to was dizzying.

"That's exactly what we asked him when he told us. All he said was that it was some man with big lips who was in a fur coat and looked like he hadn't eaten in a month..."

The cam op across from you gasps, "It was MICK JAGGER? God bless your grandfather, I would've wept if she murdered him."

"So would my mom AND grandmother," you laugh. "Give us each a glass of wine, and it's basically a Mick fan club."

"Who else?" Brian taps your leg, surprisingly urging you to divulge more gossip.

You can't help but smirk as the group leans forward intently.

"Robin Williams?" you tease as their eyebrows all raise.

"Horrible tipper, but he makes up for it by performing dirty puppet shows with the napkins."

"Sounds about right," funnyman Brad Hall confirms, offering you another drink.

You politely decline, determined to keep your wits about you this evening. "I'm gonna go grab some water. Anyone want anything?"

The group shakes their heads, but Lawrence jumps up to join you on your trek to the crowded bar.

"Wouldn't it be insane if this was us one day?" he exclaims as you weave your way through the mass of bodies littering the Capitol Grill. 

You smile up at him, "Dream big, buddy."

"Oh, I intend to," he confirms you as you spot Eddie and Rich waving you over from a spot at the bar. 

Rich promptly wraps his arm around your shoulders as you join them. He always had a stoic way of letting you know he saw through the cracks in your poorly constructed armor. Taking the role of a caring older brother, more so than your own.

"Have we lost Steve again?" Lawrence asks the group.

Eddie nods across the room. "He's exactly where you think he'd be," he scoffs as you catch a glimpse of Steve, trailing Freddie like a lost puppy.

"Um, excuse me?" a short girl mumbles from behind Eddies' denim-clad shoulder. He turns, glancing down.

"Hiya," he regards her casually, causing her a deep blush to creep across her cheeks. She shoves a napkin and pen at him.

"C-could I get an autograph? Please?"

Eddie smirks at her flustered appearance, making sure to brush her fingers as he grabs the items out of her trembling hand.

"And what beautiful name should I be making this out to?"

She lets out a jarring high pitched giggle as she stumbles over her words. "Oh, uh, Shelley."

"Well, here ya go, Shelley," he hands the napkin back to her, now adorned with his messy scrawl. "Maybe I'll see you later."

She squeaks as she hurries back to her shrieking friends who are huddled conspicuously off to the side.

"Gross," you state. "She's a child. Probably one of the executive's kids." 

He rolls his eyes dramatically. "Gotta keep em' interested, Bun. As the heartthrob of the group, it's my sworn duty."

"Slow your roll there, Rob Lowe," Rich interjects. "I think Y/N's giving you a run for your money in this dress."

You glance down at the Freddie approved ensemble. It was eye-catching for sure, precisely what you were going for. It's black suede straps crisscrossed strategically against your body, giving peaks of the skin underneath.

"It looks good, Bun," Rich assures you.

“Guys,” you all turn your attention to Steve, who has just joined the circle clumsily. His pupils are blown wide from his current blood alcohol content, and he sways slightly on his heels.

"I- I have something to say," he announces to the group, getting your attention. You all wait patiently as he hesitates, clearing his throat twice before lowering his voice. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m gay.”

You glance around to the other boys whose expressions mirror your own warm smile. You’d all known Steve was gay since high school, not that any of you had talked about it. You had just assumed it was something unspoken. That he’d tell you whenever he was ready or met someone good enough to introduce to you all.

Steve gapes at your expressions. "Where is the shock? I was expecting shock and awe, people!"

"Steve, please don’t take this the wrong way. But I’m assuming we’ve all known for a while," Rich says gently. You all nod lightly in agreement.

"How?"

"Do you remember the types of girls who used to throw themselves at you? Like Becky Whale? Man, I would’ve killed for Becky Whale to throw something at me. But you never took them up on it," Lawrence elaborates.

Steve smiles around at all of you, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

“I had a crush on Eddie in high school,” he confesses.

Eddie pumps his fist lightly. “Fuck yeah.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Lawrence exclaims. “You just had to boost that ego, didn’t ya? I know pretty boys are great and all, but I’m the one with the big soft cuddles. People love big soft cuddles!”

Rich expands his arms as he brings you all in for a hug. 

You kiss Steve gently on the cheek. “I’m proud of you, bud,” you whisper.

"Thank you guys, I just felt like it was time. And now that that's out of the way," Steve grunts as you all untangle yourselves. “I’m gonna go find Freddie. He said he’s taking me out to a club after this!”

He skips away with a grin, back towards Freddie, who catches your eye with a knowing smile and winks. It seems you weren’t the only band member who had found a fairy godmother in Mr. Mercury.

You all lightly laugh affectionately at your friend until Eddie and Lawrence wander off to scope out the food situation. You lean against the bar next to Rich, glancing around at the loud laughter erupting from the outgoing crowd. One person noticeably sticks out. A sullen John Deacon sits at the end of the bar, hunched over what looks like a glass of whiskey.

"Looks like he's in need of a friend," Rich surmises.

You tear your eyes away from the sorry sight to look at him. "They're around here somewhere," you shrug.

He rubs your arms up and down lightly before slinking into the crowd, knowingly leaving you alone. 

You sneak a peek over at John. He runs one hand through his curls as the other absentmindedly stirs the straw of his sweating drink. You watch him sigh, bringing the glass to his lips and gulping down the spirit without so much as a wince. 

Hesitantly making your way over to him, you rub your clammy hands over the expensive material of your dress. This is the opposite of avoidance, you scold yourself, silently willing your feet to change direction. But your willpower has seemingly left the building.

You carefully perch yourself on the stool next to his, as not to disturb his brooding. He glances over quickly, doing a double-take when he realizes who it is.

"Oh, hello there," he greets you with a small smile. "I didn't know you had arrived."

You nod your head lightly. "How could you? It seems you set up camp over here."

"Ah, yes," he breathes, straightening his posture. "Wasn't our best tonight, I'm afraid. Not much to celebrate."

You take a sip of your water as you continue to nod silently.

"Actually," he begins, angling his body towards yours, almost slipping off his stool as you notice his apparent intoxication. "I was thinking about that conversation we had. When I met your spritely grandfather."

"Oh?" you question. Keeping your face neutral even though your heart was already buzzing at the fact.

"Yes. Mostly about how naive I was—all that bloody nonsense about finding a home. Do me a favor and never take my advice, will you? You'll end up completely wrecking yours."

This was a bad idea.

"It's just- you draw these lines for yourself in the sand," he drawls, waving his hands about in front of him. "A stupid phrase, really. Where did it even come from?"

"The Bible," you tell him quietly.

He lets out a big sigh, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Well, it's gotten it wrong before, hasn't it?"

You simply hum an acknowledgment, too scared to probe for fear of where this was going.

"Anyway, you draw these lines. Moral, physical, promises you make to yourself, things you swear you’d never do, dreams to accomplish," he lists out. "But sand moves about, dunnit? It blows all over the place. Makes a mess. Gets in your sandwich. And those lines blur. Or fade away. And all of a sudden, you've crossed them without even knowing! Broken those promises. Skipped right over those dreams."

He's too far gone in his rant to register the growing panic sweeping across your features.

"You were right. Sometimes you look in the mirror, and it's just a complete stranger staring back at you, isn't it?"

Trying to keep your breathing steady, you stare at the crumbling man before you. He runs his large hands along his face before ducking back into his former position, signaling for the bartender to bring him another drink.

This is precisely why you should've stuck to your original plan. What were you supposed to say to the man who was so obviously hurting from his failed marriage? So much so that it was pouring out of him. You know that if it weren't for the alcohol, he wouldn't be confiding any of this to you.

But there was a reason the boys called you the mom of the group, and it wasn't because you were the only female. You feel a pang of need to comfort him. You gaze at him, not with pity, but an overwhelming sense of empathy for the man and make up your mind.

You clear your throat to answer, brushing away your own warnings about how it would only sink you deeper into your fascination with him.

"I was wrong, actually," you start as he brings his head up to look at you. "And you know what phrase I hate? That people don't change."

He furrows his brow but remains silent as you continue.

"Maybe we're not made up of lines in the sand. Maybe we're the wind?" You try not to cringe at yourself and your poor use of metaphor. "And winds sometimes blow in different directions... but that's okay because it's where life is supposed to take them." Falling silent, you decide to quit while you’re ahead. 

You're not ahead. You're not even out of the gate. What the fuck was that?

A slow smile inches onto his face as he holds your stare. "How did you get so wise for someone your age," he teases.

"And what age would that be?"

His mouth opens and closes as he studies your face. "Twenty?"

"Mm, close. Twenty-four."

"Really?" he ponders. "Freddie mentioned you dropped out of university."

"Ah, yes. The university I could only go to after working to afford it," you explain. 

He continues to stare, the look in his eyes shifting slightly as he takes you in. A look that matches the color and intensity of uncharted, open water. You need to get out of here.

"Well, that explains your extraordinary use of analogy then."

Dragging your eyes off of his, you glance around at the party you were missing. Gladly missing, unfortunately. 

"I should go check on Steve. He's having a bit of a night," you tell him as you stand. "Try not to drown yourself in those," gesturing to the new glass of whiskey in front of him.

"How can I drown myself? I thought I was the wind," he points out with a grin.

Before any more banter can ensue, you simply smile and make your way back to your friends. Thinking to yourself that maybe lines in the sand weren't so bad. And that perhaps it was time for you to start drawing some of your own.

[bobbyonboard]

You and I [John Deacon x Reader]

Summary: Based off of some anons @deacytits was getting in regards to different articles of clothing you wanted the boys to be wearing/you wanted to wear while they fucked you, this just wouldn’t leave my brain until I word vomited it all out. John Deacon. Montreal. Leather jacket.

Warnings: swearing, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, it’s lots of build up and then just smut.

Word Count: 5.8k

Author’s Note: Okay, this is my first jump back into writing in a long time. Please be kind, I’m a very sensitive person LOL.

Montreal, 1981

The crowd was deafening before the music had barely started. You were standing just hidden enough behind a black curtain on stage right, arms crossed and a hand on your chest, almost trying to get your own breathing under control. Just two more, you thought to yourself. Tonight and the next night and then ‘The Game Tour’ would be over.

It wasn’t that the tour had been unpleasant; on the contrary, it had been amazing. Each city, each crowd, louder, bigger, and hungrier than the last. Being able to top it all off with a recorded performance? The icing on the cake.

Well, it should have been. But the director had been a bit of a prat, none of the boys agreed with his camera angles, his odd way of shooting. His incessant hounding of them for the project probably didn’t put the best spin on things either, but it would be good in the long run. That’s what Miami kept telling them, anyway.

The introduction was getting louder, the crowd wilder, and the lights above the stage were beginning to slowly open up, flashing every once in awhile and making the fans scream each time. With each glimpse of light, you looked over to see the faces of the boys you’d known for ten years, bathed in hues of reds, greens, blues, and yellows.

Brian was on the opposite side of the stage, and you could barely make out his face in the dark, only able to see his curls whenever the lights came back up. You glanced to your immediate left, seeing Roger start to head towards the back of the stage in a moment of darkness, shaking his hands out to relieve a mixture of nerves and excitement. Freddie was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, clapping his hands above his head and twisting at his hips, reminiscent of a fighter preparing for a match.

It was almost as if your eyes had instinctively saved the best for last. You looked slightly to Freddie’s left to see your husband of six years, John, nervously nodding his head to a beat that was playing in his own head, his bass held tightly in his hands. He didn’t spare a glance over at you and you weren’t the least bit offended. After ten years of doing this, they all had their own quirks and things they did before a performance, and you certainly weren’t going to get in the way of that. You just watched from your spot in the corner, your own nervous energy starting to bubble up into your chest.

You knew the introduction well enough now, that after a certain ‘clap of thunder’, you watched as John began to make his way onto the stage first, Roger climbing up behind his drum kit, and a guitar ringing through the monitors signaled that Brian had just come on stage as well. After a few opening notes, Freddie ran out behind them, and you let out a breath that you’d been holding ever since the lights had begun to flash. It was finally underway.

You were able to settle in comfortably in your viewing spot, your foot tapping to the faster-paced “We Will Rock You”, your fingers digging into your bare arms. It was absolutely freezing in Montreal, the highest it managed to get that day was a balmy thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit, so by this point in the evening, it was dipping dangerously close to the teens. But you knew how hot it got in every place they played, thousands upon thousands of bodies packed into an arena would make anyone’s body temperature skyrocket. So you opted for jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, knowing you’d prefer not to have to keep up with a jacket all night long. Besides, the only time you’d be outside would be the short, brisk walk from the venue to the limo that would wait for you and John outside.

When your mind drifted to your husband, you snapped out of the slight daze you were in so you could look around the stage for him. A small smile crept across your lips as you watched him dance across the stage during a particularly jamming section of “Let Me Entertain You”, and it was only then under the bright lights of the stage did you really get a good look at him.

He was wearing a monochromatic blue outfit, matching shades for his tight pants and shirt. The colors were only broken up by the bright white sneakers he wore, and a black leather jacket. Your shifted your weight slightly as you let your eyes rake over his entire body, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. God, he looked good. Really good. Especially good. Jesus, when did he get so…

You shook your head slightly as if the act would physically remove the thoughts from your brain. Of course John had always been sexy, it’s one of the things that drew you to him so many years ago. You’d seen him go through so many stages of style, hair, and clothes, but you had to admit, he seemed older, somehow. More mature. More sure of himself. Watching him strut around the stage, popping his leg in the air as he spun around, and before you even knew what was happening, your thighs were clenching together of their own accord.

Somewhere between “Play the Game” and “Somebody to Love” the leather jacket had been removed, much to your disappointment, but watching John’s muscles flex as he worked a particularly fast bass line, or the way his t-shirt stretched across his chest certainly wasn’t anything to complain about. However, your mind still drifted back to the image of him in that leather jacket every once in awhile.

Whenever there was a break or a particularly long guitar solo, you stayed tucked away in your corner of the wings. You knew they were all in a particular headspace for the duration of the show, so you just watched from afar as John paced around, sipping on whatever drink was in his hand before heading back out on stage.

Your heart felt a sudden tug, wishing you’d had more time with him before the show. You’d had to fly in separately, and had only made it about two hours before showtime. Just enough time to have a cuddle with your husband, laugh and talk with the group and the crew, and grab a bite to eat before they were being whisked away to get dressed and get ready. But you knew you’d have plenty of time later, and the thought calmed you for now.

When “Another One Bites the Dust” began to blast through the speakers, you smirked a little to yourself, hips popping from side to side just slightly. The song had been released just over a year ago, and you thought about how successful it was, how it really shot Queen to the top over in America, and how it had done absolute wonders for John’s confidence. It was the boost he needed, the extra push to really make him more vocal in rehearsals, to press for his songs to be included just like the others. You were beyond proud of him, your chest swelling as you watched him hop and bounce along the stage.

You still had chills every time you heard “We Are the Champions”, watching as the crowd sang along, the entire building coming together for those moments, and by the end of the song, when the boys were taking their final bows to Brian’s rendition of “God Save the Queen”, you’d practically forgotten about the leather jacket and all the sinful, dirty things you’d wanted to do to your husband.

You quickly moved over so you were waiting for them as soon as they got off the stage, feeling a little bad that there wasn’t anyone else there, family-wise. Chrissy and Dominique were both back in London, unable to make it for this leg of the tour, so you tried to make sure your smile was extra enthusiastic when they filtered by you.

“Wonderful, as always, boys!,” you grinned, pecking Roger’s cheek as he walked by, chuckling as his own smile was growing by the second on his face.

“It was, wasn’t it?,” he smirked, voice dripping with a smugness that made you want to roll your eyes, if it wasn’t for the tinge of pride that coated his words.

“If the fucking cameras weren’t so distracting,” Brian huffed, walking behind him, and you gently patted his shoulder.

“It’s going to be great, don’t worry about it. You were great,” you added with a small smile, and he gave you one in return, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Thank fuck that’s over!,” you heard Freddie shout, his voice scratchy and breaking on the last syllable. “Y/N, it’s wonderful to see you as always, darling,” he told you, leaning down to brush his lips against your cheek before running off, leaving you there just shaking your head, unable to even get out your words of praise for the frontman.

“Nothing for me?” a soft voice said from beside you, and you turned with a grin, arms immediately opening for John.

“You were perfect. You’re always perfect,” you hummed, draping your arms on his shoulders, leaning up for a soft, warm kiss. Your hands drifted up to his hair, giving his relatively newly grown curls a soft squeeze.

As the two of you pulled away from each other, John’s hands moved from your waist up to your arms, rubbing them lightly. “You’re going to freeze to death outside,” he warned, fingertips tracing down from your elbow to your fingertips, lacing your fingers together as you started the fast-paced walk towards the back of the venue.

You just shrugged, not able to imagine being cold at this moment, beads of sweat at the base of your hairline from the heat backstage, and from your earlier impure thoughts. The same thoughts that were creeping back now that John’s calloused fingers were brushing against your knuckles, practically able to feel the warmth radiating from him.

As everyone began rushing around backstage, a few people coming up to each member of the band and making sure they had a drink, a cigarette, or whatever else they desired, you thought back to the early days. How the four of them would all go back to a shared room and get changed into their regular clothes together, girlfriends and wives laying on couches, roadies laughing and tossing things to each other to pack up. Sometimes they would go out and party, or even just get some dinner together. These days, they just each got in their own limousine and took off towards whatever evening entertainment they wished.

The further you got from the stage, the more your skin began to prickle with goosebumps, and God, where was that cold air coming from? You looked ahead to see the back doors had been propped wide open, with trucks backed up to the entry way for easy access to load up all the equipment.

“Don’t.” you warned, not even having to look at your husband to know he was giving you that glare, the one he saved for when he knew he had been right about something.

“I didn’t say anything!” he held his free hand up in surrender, but you looked over to see a small smirk on his lips, and you rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might roll out the open doors.

It was just a moment later as everyone lined up to start the mad dash to the limos waiting outside when John turned to look over his shoulder. “Ratty!” he called out, his roadie looking up from a conversation with another crew member.

“Yeah, Deaks?,” he responded, exhaling a mouthful of smoke and giving you a smile and a wave. “Hey, Y/N!”.

“Have you got my jacket?” John asked, and Ratty nodded his head, stepping back into the dressing room around the corner and returning with the  aforementioned item. “Thanks,” he nodded, taking it from the roadie’s hands and holding it open.

“Arms in,” he told you, and it felt almost like a parent dressing a toddler.

“But now who’s the one that’s going to freeze?!,” you huffed, arms crossing over your chest and narrowing your eyes slightly. “You’re the one who needs to wear it, I’ll be fine for a quick walk to the car,” you attempted to assure him, but your body betrayed you, a shiver running up your spine and down into your fingertips and toes as your finished your sentence.

John just rolled his eyes, popping his hip to the side which proved he was settling in, not planning on moving until you did what he suggested. “I’ve been sweating for two hours, I think it’ll be alright,” he told you, raising an eyebrow as he held the jacket out towards you.

You muttered under your breath something about a stubborn bastard, ignoring the way his lips turned up slightly when you began to put your arms through the black leather, wrapping it around your middle.

“Looks nice,” he commented, draping an arm around your shoulders and dropping a kiss to your temple before leading you towards the back entrance.

You nuzzled into his side, head tucked comfortably under his chin as you walked, your arm wrapped around his waist, sneaking your thumb under the the hem of his t-shirt to rub lightly at his warm skin, causing him to jump slightly.

“Colds hands!,” he whined, pinching your arm playfully, although you could barely feel it through the leather. “And to think, I was willing to freeze to death for you,” he sighed dramatically, but he let out a huff of air when a bodyguard opened the doors in front of you, a cold wind smacking the two of you in the face.

You clutched tighter to your husband, face turned to try and block out some of the cold, and almost running to your waiting limousine. You practically jumped inside, curling up with John and immediately sticking your hands in front of the vents, feeling the heat blasting out in the already warm car. “”Fuck, it feels good in here,” you moaned, rubbing your hands together.

“Bloody freezing,” John was muttering to himself as the door shut behind him, and the driver started towards the hotel, ready to make a change if requested.

You flopped back against John, head laying on his chest as you closed your eyes, enjoying the heat. It was quiet for a few minutes, you knew John had to be tired. Between their non-stop few days and your long flight from earlier, the different time zones were neither of your friend.

“Sleepy?,” you heard him ask you, brushing your hair out of your face, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, and you made a noncommittal noise.

“A little. We can go somewhere, if you want,” you told him, noticing the driver’s ears perk up slightly, ready to turn somewhere else and adjust his route if need be.

“No, we’ll go out tomorrow, I’m sure. Last night of the tour and all. Besides, you’ve had quite the day, haven’t you?,” he smiled, fingers tracing along your chin and jawline.

“Hasn’t been so bad,” you smiled up at him, stretching out slightly, your shirt riding up to show a sliver of skin on your middle before you relaxed once more against his chest. “Bet you’re hungry, though. We can order room service,” you offered, playing with his fingers and noticing they were slightly swollen, so you just began to massage them gently.

John hummed slightly at the feeling, his own eyes fluttering closed for a few moments as your worked his knuckles and fingers. “Food sounds good. Especially if I can eat it laying down,” he chuckled softly, looking out the window and bracing himself for the cold. “Up, up, we’re here, love,” he told you, holding his hands in front of the vents for a few moments to prepare them for even a few seconds of cold.

You sighed as you sat up, tugging John’s jacket tighter to your chest and taking a deep breath before your driver got out and opened the door. The two of you practically ran inside, pleased that you had seemed to beat the crowd of press that usually camped outside of whatever hotel the band stayed at.

The two of you immediately slowed down the second you were inside, thankful for the heat as you reached out and pressed the ‘up’ button for the elevator, leaned against John’s side the entire time. You shuffled in once the doors opened, yawning slightly once they closed and the elevator began it’s ascension. Someone from the crew had taken your luggage to the hotel earlier, and you were never more thankful than in that moment, able to just follow John to the hotel suite and not have to do anything. “What sounds good?,” you asked, looking around at the large room and smiling a little to yourself. Ten years later, and you’d never get used to the lavish rooms and gifts.

“I’d kill for a pizza,” he called over his shoulder, going to kick off his shoes and groaning when his feet stretched out, heading into the bathroom to find some ibuprofen and fill a glass with water.

“Pizza it is then!,” you announced, snatching the menu off of the table and giving it a quick glance. You saw where the restaurant had an entire section for pizza, so you picked up the phone, placing your order of a pizza, two bottles of wine, and a slice of cheesecake before you hung up.

John had flopped down on the couch in the suite’s living room, stretched out completely as he lazily watched whatever was on TV, and you shuffled over slowly, standing in front of him. “Hi,” he smiled, reaching out to take your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Hi,” you responded in kind, putting one knee by his hips, throwing your leg over him so you were straddling his lap, flopping down so your entire weight was on his body, causing him to let out a soft ‘oof’ at the sudden addition. “You’re comfy,” you hummed, closing your eyes and trying not to slip into too relaxed of a state.

“Wish I could say the same for you,” he teased, yelping when reached down to pinch his side. “Kidding, kidding!,” he giggled, and you just stuck your tongue out, nuzzling your face into his neck, the two of you lazily watching ‘Singing in the Rain’ as it played as the late evening movie.

You had just finally gotten completely comfortable, John’s hand rubbing slowly at the small of your back when you heard a knock at the door.

“C’mon, food,” John mumbled, giving your rear a gentle pat, giggling softly when you made an indignant noise before getting up. You walked over to the door, but managed to put on a smile for the man who pushed in the tray, putting the plates of food on the table, and pouring two glasses of wine before bidding you two a nice evening, leaving almost as quickly as he came.

“God, I’m starving,” you groaned, settling into one of the chairs at the table, putting a few slices of pizza on your plate and taking a sip of your wine, humming at the taste.

You and John ate mostly in a comfortable silence, more focused on alleviating your hunger than anything else. You talked a bit about what he’d missed by coming out for the end of this tour early, how things were going, what the plans were in terms of a new album. He wanted more of a disco sound, and you tried to hide your laugh with a large bite of pizza thinking about how Brian was going to react to that.

Most of the pizza, all of the cheesecake, and a bottle of wine was polished off before you popped open the second bottle, pouring you both another glass before you moved from your seat back into your seat from earlier--your husband’s lap.

“Mmm, hi,” you smiled, taking a sip of your wine before putting the glass on the table behind you, your arms wrapping loosely around John’s shoulders.

“Hi,” he grinned back, much like your earlier conversation, placing his own glass on the table before letting his hands move to your hips. “You know, I quite like this jacket on you,” he commented, giving the bottom of it a little tug.

You stretched your back slightly, turning and making a semi-seductive pose that had you both dissolving into a fit of giggles after a few moments. “I quite like this jacket on you,” you responded, pushing your finger into his chest for an added effect. “You looked so good tonight, John,” you whispered, fingertips gently tracing along his jawline, your foreheads pressed together as you moved a bit closer.

“Yeah?,” he asked huskily, voice thick with arousal, but there was a slight tinge in his voice that sounded secretly pleased, almost relieved, that you thought so. Married six years, but there was always that nagging voice in the back of his head that you’d find someone better. Especially when he was compared to people like Roger and Brian every day.

“God, John,” you whimpered, and Christ, you could already feel how hard he was underneath of you, and you gave a tentative roll of your hips, relishing in the soft noise he made in response. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. These pants,” your purred, your lips barely an inch or two from his, and your hands had moved now to rub lightly at his hips. “This shirt,” you added, hands sliding up to his sides, fingernails gently raking across the soft material. “And this,” you grinned wickedly as your hands went to tug at the edge of the leather jacket you were still wearing. “Took my breath away, baby,” you whispered, and God, you hoped if you somehow got to Heaven, it was just a constant loop of the soft whimper that John just let slip past his lips.

“Missed you,” was all he managed to get out, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, his arms tightening around your waist, pushing you flush against him, and now it was your turn to let out a sinful mewl, your fingers moving up to tangle in those beautiful curls.

“I missed you mo--oh!,” you gasped as John suddenly stood up, keeping you held tightly in his arms. You were giggling now, biting lightly at your bottom lip as he carried you wordlessly to the bedroom, and you felt your heart ache a little at how one side of the bed was still carefully made, thinking about him sleeping alone for the past few days.

John sat on the edge of the bed, keeping you in his lap as he swung his legs up, leaning against the headboard and giving your hips a light squeeze. “What were you saying, Y/N?,” he asked with a grin, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling brightly if you tried.

“That I missed you. I really, really missed you,” you hummed, hooking your fingers under the hem of his blue t-shirt, tugging it over his head immediately. God, you’d never get tired of this sight, the way he looked up at you like he’d just won the lottery, a mixture of elation and pure love.

“Show me?,” he whispered, licking his lips as he studied your features, his hands moving around to your ass as he squeezed gently, pushing you down against his thighs.

You reached between the two of you and unbuttoned his pants slowly, your fingers gently tugging his zipper down, never once breaking eye contact. You just slid your hand down his chest, tugging the extra material out of the way before your fingers wrapped slowly around his cock, eyes lighting up when John’s head fell back and a low moan rumbled in his chest.

“So hard for me, baby,” you purred, stroking him slowly, surely. Your thumb brushed lightly across the weeping head of his cock, rubbing the bit of precome across his flushed skin.

“Fuck, Y/N--,” he choked out, and you knew he’d had this pent up for awhile, He was always a little clingy if you’d been apart for too long, even a few days could make him a needy, wanting mess.

“Shhhh, baby. I’ve got you. Let me take care of you, hm?,” you cooed, stroking him a bit more before pulling away, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth when he whined at the loss of contact. “You were so amazing tonight. God, so fucking perfect,” you whispered, moving so you were standing beside the bed. You leaned over, slowly pulling his pants down his legs, tossing them, along with his underwear, over into the corner, leaving him naked before you.

Taking a step back, you gave him a seductive grin, gently removing his leather jacket and placing it on the bed. Your fingers danced across your own skin, hooking under the edge of your shirt and tugging it over your head, your black, lacy looking marvellous against your skin. You popped the button of your jeans carefully, giving your hips a slight wiggle as you pushed them down your legs, and you could practically feel John’s eyes boring a hole into your body with the intensity of his stare. You reached behind you, gently unhooking your bra and letting it immediately fall to the floor, in no real mood to tease John any longer, especially with the way he’d started to stroke himself, hips rolling up as he fucked his fist, mouth hanging open slightly.

You practically shoved your panties onto the floor, about to crawl back on the bed when the leather jacket caught your eye. You picked it up with a mischievous grin, putting it back on your naked body, and feeling your wetness grow between your legs as John moaned your name.

“Lay down for me, my love,” you whispered, letting John move so he was laid down completely, his head resting on the pillows, his cock hard and leaking against his stomach. You didn’t think you’d seen anything so wonderful in your life.

Carefully placing your knees on either side of John’s, you took him once more into your hand, stroking him as you looked up through your lashes, smirking a little to yourself when he let out a small huff of frustration.

“Are you just going to sit there looking like that all night?,” he asked, and no matter how hard he tried, his words could never really sound annoyed at you. It made your heartbeat quicken, and you leaned down a bit more.

“No, I have other plans,” you hummed, your legs tucked up under you as you leaned forward to wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

“”Fuck!,” John cried out, immediately thrusting into your mouth, his hand moving to tangle in your hair and give it a gentle tug. “Christ, Y/N,” he was panting now, already a mess above you and you only had half of his dick in your mouth.

His actions were enough to spur you on, your free hand rubbing lightly at the inside of his thigh while you took his length deeper, relaxing your throat until you felt the head of his cock slip inside, causing tears to prick the corners of your eyes.

John was now a whimpering, moaning mess above you, trying his absolute best to keep his hips still, letting you do your work. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to your hot, wet mouth, the way it accepted almost every inch of his cock perfectly.

Your headed bobbed up and down slowly, humming softly around his dick as you took in the sight above you, admiring the way he was looking at you like you were God’s gift specifically for him.

You snuck a hand down between your thighs, spreading your legs enough so John got a real show, a finger dipping between your wet folds and plunging into your heat, allowing you to moan sinfully, the vibrations going straight to John’s cock. You didn’t dare touch your clit just yet, you wanted to wait until you were nice and full.

Pulling off of your husband’s dick with a soft ‘pop’, you grinned up at him wickedly, licking your lips. Your smile turned more loving and less cheeky when you felt his hand go from your hair to your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye for a quick moment before he extended both arms to help you maneuver back to his lap.

“You’re perfect, you know that?,” he whispered, hands moving to your hips, and you began to rock down against him, the juices from your now throbbing pussy spreading along his cock.

You blushed slightly at his words, your skin beginning to heat up as you moved a little faster. “John, I need you,” you whispered, lifting yourself to your knees and reaching between your legs. Without so much as a warning, you pressed the head of his cock to your entrance, and sank down on him slowly.

“Shit--,” he gasped, his grip tightening on your hips, rocking his hips up to get as deep inside of you as he possibly could. “So tight for me, baby. So wet,” he moaned, looking up at you through his lashes, absolutely lost in how breathtaking you looked.

The moans and mewls you were letting out couldn’t be stopped, feeling John so deep inside of you. You reached down to put a hand on his chest for balance, and after a few moments of just enjoying your husband inside of your tight heat, you began to roll your hips, a string of curses and his name leaving your lips as you felt him hit all of the right places.

It was lazy, it was loving, and God, it was amazing. Small little movements that drove the two of you wild, one of John’s hands moving up to let his thumb brush lightly against the underside of your breast before moving a bit higher, his hand under the cool leather of the jacket to feel the heat of your skin.

“I love you,” he groaned softly, his curls beginning to stick to his forehead from the thin layer of sweat that was now covering his body.

“I love you, too,” you moaned, head thrown back in sheer ecstasy as your hips moved to a slightly different angle, causing John to go even deeper inside of you, the head of his cock pressed right up against your sweet spot.

The noise you let out with pornographic, almost doubling over in pleasure as you leaned forward, and for the first time that evening, your lips met. The kiss was desperate, loving, and hot; everything the two of you needed in that moment. John managed to sit up, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders and move more to your knees, bouncing sinfully on his cock.

“So beautiful, baby. Absolutely perfect,” he whispered, your foreheads pressed together as you pressed soft, quick kisses to each other’s lips. The leather was sticky between the two of you, but John didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so close to Heaven in his life.

One hand slid up into John’s hair, pulling him closer for another round of messy, passionate kisses, and your husband seemed to know you better than you knew yourself. He reached down with his free hand and began to rub your clit with his middle finger and thumb, just the way he knew you liked it.

“John!,” you gasped, clenching around his cock inside of you as you felt yourself get closer, your fingers grabbing almost painfully at his curls as you kept him close.

The proximity of his face to your chest made it easy for him to push his jacket open a bit more, quickly letting his lips wrap around one of your nipples, sucking, licking, and biting at the hard bud until he was satisfied. Only once you were writhing in his lap did he turn to it’s twin, and he could practically feel the way your body was trying to keep itself upright from the overstimulation it was receiving.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?,” he whispered against your breast, voice low and heavy with passion. “Gonna come on my cock?”.

Those words were going straight to your soaked cunt, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer with each roll of your hips, John’s cock going deeper and deeper. You nodded, unable to even form a coherent sentence at this point.

John knew you were close, his own orgasm was within reach. He quickened his pace, moving his face up so he could nip at your bottom lip as he began to lift his hips against yours, wanting to be as deeply inside of you as possible.

“Come for me, Y/N.”

That was all you needed. You let out a sharp cry as you felt your orgasm wash over you, your pussy spasming around John’s hard cock inside of you, causing you to whimper his name with each wave of pleasure.

A handful of thrusts later had John spilling his load into you with a groan, biting lightly at your bottom lip as he gripped your hips tightly, keeping you on top of him as he filled your dripping wet pussy with his come.

The two of you sat there in silence for a few moments, the only sounds your heavy breathing and the soft mewls you let out whenever he would shift inside of you. Once you two had managed to get your breathing under control, you moved off of your husband and tossed the jacket on the ground before laying down, your head resting on his chest.

“Don’t get too comfy, let me clean you up,” he yawned, leaning down to kiss your forehead before he got up, going to get a washcloth, rinsing it with warm water before he came back to wipe you down, unable to keep the smirk from his face when you whimpered a little, still sensitive.

“Don’t look smug,” you teased, but you yawned in the middle, taking out a bit of the sting of your words.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love,” he chuckled, crawling back into bed and covering you both with the duvet, pulling you up against him. “I’m glad you’re here,” he sighed, and you smiled a little against the warmth of his neck.

“Me too,” you whispered, closing your eyes and finally allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

[taylor-on-fire]

Cigarettes and Alcohol (one)

She was told to never get involved with three things; Cigarettes, Alcohol and Rock Stars.

Obviously, something fate never intended for her to live by.

Pairing: ? x Reader

Series Rating: Mature

Chapter Rating: Teen

Chapter Warnings: Swearing

~/-*•|•*-\~

The remainder of the summer had disappeared within the blink of an eye. If unpacking the rest of my belongings and furnishing the flat hadn't consumed the vast majority of my free time, my newly accumulated job had.

I had walked into Regency Cafe on my third day in London, resume in hand and extraordinarily low expectations. It was stationed five streets away from my flat, and a hub that I had scoped out soon after arriving. Because of this, I assumed that it was too good to be true, and being as popular as it was, would have copious amounts of workers and applicants alike. But, I had seemingly hit the jackpot that day. As soon as I walked into the cafe and spotted the only waitress behind the counter - a gray-haired, flustered woman in her late fifties - and mentioned the ‘Help Wanted’ sign stuck on the glass window.

‘You here for the job, Honey?’ I nodded, and she immediately thew an apron my way and hustled back to the till.

“Rose.” The woman nodded to me and slid over a tray. “That’s for table 7.”

“Y/N. Great to meet you, Rose.” I threw a tea towel over my shoulder, smiled, and picked up the tray to serve.

-

Ever since then, I had been working ten hour shifts at the Cafe. The crowds only  ever thinned out at around the three ‘o’clock mark, when it was too late to be considered lunch, and too early to be considered tea. But, even then, there was never a moment to take a breather, let alone have a smoke. I wouldn't complain though - It kept my days occupied and helped me save extra money for when the next semester started. And Rose was lovely. 

After we had locked up the cafe that first night - a pretty successful day as per usual - We had gotten talking about everything and anything over a cup of Coffee. Rose’s other two waitresses had called in sick, and with no available family to help, she was forced to fight the rush head on. Obviously that's where I came in. 

Coffee after lock-up had become some sort of ritual after I was hired, and after the hour or so chatting with the grandmother I never had over pastries, I would walk to my flat and go straight to bed. I rarely went back out once I got home, and thus hadn't scoped the area as much as I usually would. I mean, I knew of a few pubs and student clubs nearer to the university campus, and a few clothing stores, but London was huge. It would take longer than a night to discover all there was to see.

Undoubtedly, now I’d have less time to dedicate to finding the hot-spots of the city. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was awake again - Pulling on jeans and a plaid jacket haphazardly. Apparently snoozing an alarm clock six or so times eventually added up to an hour. So, now I was 65 minutes behind schedule, and would be inevitably late to the first lecture of my first semester at Uni. 

Way to make an impression, Y/N.

I checked the clock again, simultaneously buckling my sandals, and true to the time, I had 40 minutes to complete a half an hour bus ride and trek to the other side of the campus. 

Luckily, Imperial was by far the closest Uni in the area. God forbid i had applied to another college instead - I would hands down, never make it to the campus on time. Being rejected fro the course for numerous lates wouldn't come as a shock to say the least.

I made my way outside and lit up a smoke, securing my bag on my shoulder and making my way towards the near-empty bus stop. It was fairly cold outside, despite it not being too early. It was the middle of September although, and despite the summer feeling very recent, it was slowly fading out into a chilly autumn.

However, I wasn't exposed to the British temperatures for too long, as in a few minutes, I was seated at the back of the bus, willing it to go quicker to ensure that I wouldn't be late to class.

-

I had constructed a whole plan on how my mornings would go from now on, and sorted a precise routine to avoid this one situation. I didn't imagine it being disregarded so early into the school year. Yet, I was notorious for being late back home, despite my best efforts. It was evidently not a good trait.

As I hurried across the campus, barely navigating the way from memory and already five minutes late, I hoped that this wasn't an omen for what my life would be like here. 

The corridors were quiet, a few groups of people scattered around - obviously early and awaiting their first lecture - and all of their faces blending into one. I paid no heed due to the sheer rush I was attempting to downplay in the presence of other students.

The lecture hall seemed abnormally distant. But, as this thought flashed through my brain, a large notice on the wall displayed the word I was desperately searching for in black, block letters. I heaved a sigh of relief and searched for the class number. 

EB1.1...EB1.3...EB1.7...EB1.15

Seeing that I had arrived at my designated room, I paused momentarily, glancing down to check my wrist watch. Fifteen minutes late. Fifteen used to be my lucky number, but after this, I'm not too sure. I turned to walk towards the door, not looking up, and immediately came into contact with something solid.

Before I could comprehend what was happening and steady myself, I was falling backwards, the notes in my hand and bag falling everywhere. 

“Im sorry! Im so, sorry. I completely missed you there! I was just late and...” A boys flustered voice cut me from my internal monologue of how great the day was turning out to be. He immediately dropped to his knees to collect up the newly created mess, whilst simultaneously glancing back towards me. Presumably to see if I was fatally injured.

“Its fine. Im sorry. It was probably my fault.” I laughed, moving to my knees and picking up a pile of notes scattered to the left of me. “I have a terrible habit of being late to everything.”

“I should have seen you though. Are you okay? Not hurt are you?”

“I’m completely fine. despite my pride, obviously. Are you okay? I completely barrelled into you.”

We both continued to pick up the notes scattered around the corridor together, and finished rearranging ourselves in seconds flat. The man quickly stood up, holding out his free hand to me, which I grasped firmly. I let go, and he clutched his notes, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, a red blush overtaking his features.

“I’m completely okay. I must apologise again.” he spoke, still anxiously rubbing his neck. A small smile was playing on his red features.

I paused for a second and adjusted the strap on my bag.

“You said you were late to class. Whats your major?” I questioned, not much left to lose considering over a third of the first lecture was over. I looked towards the class door, knowing that I was obviously more than a quarter hour late now. This couldn't be good.

“Engineering. Electrical, more specifically. But Engineering is apparently just one big degree here.”

“Im majoring in that too. But, I prefer the Aerospace branch.”

The man smiled at that, before adjusting his shirt collar and swinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder..

“I have a friend that would love that. An Astrophysics Major.” He turned and pointed to the room EB1.15. “I guess we're headed to the same place, then?”

I nodded, smiling back.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” I raised my right hand out to the boy.

“John Deacon. Lovely to meet you.” He grasped my hand, and we shook, before splitting and turning to enter the classroom. John took the lead, entering the class before me, and holding the door open for me to enter too.

I guess chivalry isn't dead.

We both stood there momentarily, well aware of thirty or so sets of eyes turning in our direction. Under any other positive circumstances, I wouldn't be fazed, but knowing that I was in the wrong and destined to be given fails for the next academic year - and in front of so many strangers - I was uncharacteristically nervous.

From the looks of it, John also wasn't one for being thrusted under the limelight. He shot me a short, wide-eyed look, before hesitantly making his way to the lecturers desk at the front centre of the hall. I trailed behind him, probably appearing like a lost puppy, but in reality, unsure what the protocol was for such a situation.

Do i just sit down and ignore the fact that I missed half of the lecture? Or apologise profusely? At this point I’m ready to just leave campus, drop the course and move back home. Although, nothing worse than moving home immediately comes to mind.

However, John quickly spoke, explaining the issues he faced with his travel this morning etcetera, etcetera, and luckily, he included me within this tale. Apparently, we had gotten scheduled 8:15 AM bus, and due to a road-traffic accident, we were diverted for over three quarters of an hour. Credit to him for elaborating so. I was almost convinced myself that I hadn't overslept this morning.

As he concluded his tale, John took a step backwards, next to me, and awaited a response. The lecturer nodded, a blank expression on his face. He waited a second before responding.

“Ive already assigned the Initial Assignment. I want a 2,000 word essay on your reasons behind choosing Engineering as your major, the branch you major in, and the gateways this degree opens for you. Any other details are on the board.” The man held his stoic expression, and we nodded back at him, awaiting a sign to take our seats. “Michael Ford.”

I muttered my name in response, as did John, as we turned to take the only two free seats at the back of the lecture hall. We were stopped abruptly.

“Next time, don't let your romantic life come in the way of your studies.”

I froze, unsure of what to reply, other than a quick nod. I went to hurry off once again, but glanced at John who was beet red -  even redder than before in the corridor -  a wide-eyed expression on his face. It took all I had in me to not burst out laughing. 

[forever-rogue]

Supercut - Part IX

Summary: Roger didn’t know how good he had it when Y/N was his. But when Y/N became Deacy’s, he realized he had messed up.

A/N: Hey, hi, hello. Please enjoy this installment of Supercut! It’s a bit emotional (like this whole series), but I hope y’all enjoy! Taglists are open! xx

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader (former), John Deacon x Reader (current)

Warnings: infidelity, language

Word Count: 4k

Note - this is still in the past.

MASTERLIST

The Second Time Roger Cheats

It had taken a lot of time and a lot talks in order to find for Y/N to find herself able to let Roger back into her life. He had spent days pleading with her, begging her to take him back. Telling her how sorry he was, how it meant nothing. How she was the only thing that mattered to him.

The morning after their fight, he had been back at her door, begging Y/N to let him in. But she hadn’t, she had merely told him to leave in a robotic tone, refusing to show any sort of emotion. But he hadn’t - he had remained all day waiting there, hoping she’d have a reason to leave her apartment. She didn’t. She purposely didn’t.

She surely thought he was likely to finally leave and give up on his pointless quest and retire to his own flat. Y/N had always know that Roger had a strong will, but this was a surprise even to her. As far as she knew, from the sounds she heard from the hallway, he refused to move even to eat, drink, or use the restroom. He was stone cold determined to win her heart back.

Y/N didn’t give in though, remaining steadfast in her convictions and refusing to acknowledge his presence and give him the time of day. She was still too angry at this point.

When she left go to work the following Monday morning, she almost had a heart attack stepping outside of her flat and finding tons of flowers all around the door. Roger’s figure was slumped over in deep sleep on the opposite side of the walkway. He’d never left.

Leaning over and picking up the nearest bundle of flowers, she clutched them close to her heart and sniffed them, enjoying their subtly sweet scent. The walls she had built up, in a vain attempt to protect her fragile heart started melting slightly at the sight of it all. Having had experience with men cheating on her in the past, she knew the blame was usually placed on her or that somehow she driven them to cheat in the first place; it was always her, never them. Never once had any of them apologized or shown the slightest hint of regret.

“Baby,” Roger said quietly behind her, causing her to close her eyes, debating on whether or not not she should turn around and speak to him or return inside and take the day off of work and hide away from him and the world. He tentatively put a hand on her tense shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, “Y/N, please, please, talk to me.”

“H-have you been here the entire weekend?” her voice was a tad shaky as she anticipated his response. She was sure she already knew the answer, but wanted to heart it from him anyway.

“Yes,” he whispered, attempting to slowly pull her closer into his body. She tried to fight the urge to breakaway and freeze him out, but he knew hot melt her resolve, “baby, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“You hurt me, Roger,” she sighed and hung her head, but didn’t stop him from pulling her into a hug, his arms, well muscled from years of playing, wrapped around her from behind, and he rested his head on her shoulder. He wasn’t making this easy whatsoever, “you hurt me so badly.”

“I don’t expect you to ever forgive me,” he whispered gently into her ear, his breath tickling her slightly. His fingers dug into her side slightly as he waited for any sort of response, “but I want a second chance, if you’ll have me again. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I can’t let you go. Not like this.”

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you, Rog. I asked you for one thing - and you couldn’t even respect that. Remember that day on the beach? Our first date? You promised...” she sighed, taking her owns hands to remove his from her body. Turning around slowly, she came face to face with the beautiful blonde boy that had broken her heart. His own eyes were red rimmed as he pleaded silently with her to take him back.

“It’ll never happen again, I swear it,” his voice was barely audible as he tried to reach over and touch her face, but she jerked out of his grasp, turning sideways. With a heavy sigh, she took the brilliant flowers still in her trembling hands and thrust them into his arms. He looked at them sadly, like a child who had just had his balloon popped, “baby-”

“I can’t so this right now, Rog,” she said before stepping away from him, “I’m going to be late for work.”

“Y/N-”

“I’ll call you sometime, Rog,” she called over her shoulder as swiftly made her towards the staircase. Pausing at the top, she looked back and spied him staring at the ground dismally, “clean these flowers up please. I don’t want to get in trouble for leaving a mess.”

“Y/N?” a knock came at her office door, as her assistant patiently waited for her to pick her head up and out of the large book she was pouring over.

“Yes, what can I do for you?” she gave her a tight lipped smile, bookmarking her page so she wouldn’t lose the hours of research that she had done.

“John’s here to see you,” was all she said before walking away, not letting Y/N give her a proper response. Her mouth was open as she looked after her, but John quickly took her spot, leaning against the door frame with a soft smile playing on his delicate features.

“Hey there love bug,” he walked into her office carrying several bags of what looked liked takeaway. He set the containers down in front of her before sinking into one of the chairs opposite her, “I hadn’t heard from you all weekend so I wanted to make sure you were okay. Not somehow completely lost to the world.”

“You really didn’t have to, Deacy. I’m okay, just was tired,” she smiled in spite of herself as she poked around the containers he had procured. Her heart felt a little better as she realized he brought her all her favorites from the local Chinese shop, “but I appreciate nonetheless. I’m starving.”

“I had a feeling,” he said quietly, “you’re my best friend, Y/N. I always know when something’s up.”

“A gentleman and a physic,” she tried to keep the conversation on the surface as she grabbed a fork and started to go for one of the containers.

“Nuh uh love,” he said as he gently swatted her hand away, causing her to look at him with a surprised face, “not until you tell me what’s been going on. It’s not like you to go radio silent for days. What’s happened?”

“Bold of you to assume something’s happened,” she tried to joke, putting the fork back on the table and deciding to give up on her attempt at eating. Deacy wouldn’‘t let it go until he got an answer he was satisfied with, and that answer would end up being the truth. He could always see right through her lies if she ever attempted to deceive anyone.

“I know something’s happened, Y/N,” he tried to catch her eye, but she refused to look at him, instead focusing her attention pretty much anywhere else. Sighing lightly, he leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. It always broke his heart to see his best friend like this - he’d seen it since they were young teens and had first started dating around. He was always the on she turned to - always, “come on, love, what is it?”

“Nothing’s happened, John, I swear,” she bit her lip, almost enough to draw blood as his eyes were trained on her, “I just wasn’t feeling well over the weekend. It must have been something I ate.”

John’s eyebrows raised up, almost disappearing under his mop of hair as he gave her a look that told her he didn’t believe a word coming out of her mouth, “you’ve never been a good lair.”

“And you’ve never been this pushy,” she countered, almost feeling a bit bad at her biting tone, “look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“‘s fine,” he stood up, resting a hand on her chair as he bit the inside of her cheek, “just...promise me you’re okay?”

“I’m brilliant,” she lied, already feeling the familiar tingling at the back of her eyes. John let out a long breath through his nose, before giving her a curt nod, “you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

She wanted nothing more than to break down and confess everything to him and tell him about Roger’s infidelity, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Partially out of shame, partially because she didn’t want to create a rift between their friend group. The situation tore her apart from inside, but she found herself frozen in a sort of limbo, caught between doing what she wanted to do and what she should have done.

“Okay,” he reluctantly said, sighing before walking over to the door. He turned and gave her one last look, small smile followed by a wave as he headed out, “give me a call if you need anything, yeah? I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon,” she said half halfheartedly long after he had left. Her eyes landed back on the food he had brought but she had quickly lost her appetite. Her thoughts kept landing back on Roger and whether or not she should forgive him, and the desolate look on John’s face as she lied straight to his face. It shouldn’t been hard. It should have been a simple choice really, but it still weighed heavy on her heart.

She loved Roger, that had never been a lie or a blatant fabrication she had convinced herself to believe. But there was always John, causing her heart to flutter, always bringing the biggest smile to her face with almost anything he did.

Grabbing a fork, she started digging into the delicious food, only managing a few bites before setting the fork down, overwhelmed by a fresh wave of tears.

Picking up and setting down the phone about ten times, Y/N contemplated whether or not to call Roger. Parts of her really wanted to so he could confess and get his sins off of his chest, but part of her didn’t want to give him the time of day. After all, why should she?

“Damn it all to hell,” she sighed to herself, giving and dialing his number and listening to it ring. Part of her hoped it would continue to ring aimlessly before going to his answering machine. But she would never get so lucky, she realized as she heard him pick up the phone.

“Hello?” his voice was quiet and small, so unlike the confidence and bravado he usually had. She could hang up now and he likely wouldn’t have known it was her, but she was frozen there, listening to his shallow breathing, “Y/N?”

“Y-yeah,” she confirmed quietly after a few long seconds of tense silence, “it’s me, Rog.”

“Hey baby,” his voice perked up a little bit as he realized he was correct. He knew this was either a make or break moment for them, one in which Y/N would take him back or tell him to go to hell, “h-how are you?”

“I mean, I’m not great,” she confessed, squeezing her eyes shut as leaned against the counter. She twisted the phone cord in her hand, twisting to and fro, “I’m really hurt, Rog. You betrayed my trust and you did the one thing I asked you not to do. If you don’t love me, you can just tell me that.”

“I do love you,” he interjected, giving her a light tut, “truly, Y/N. I cannot apologize enough. It was a mistake, and I regret it. It was never meant to happen, and it will never happen again.”

“How can I trust you, Roger?” she swiped at the sole tear that had run down her cheek, “how I can trust you not to break my heart again? Because I do love you, Rog. But I won’t stay with you if I have to worry about you doing this again. What about when you’re on tour and on for weeks?”

“I don’t know how to tell you to trust me again, baby, but it won’t happen again. I swear it on my life,” he whispered quietly, and she desperately ached to believe him. She wanted to love him and have him love her in turn.

“Okay,” she agreed, gnawing on her lip as an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach.

Had she just made a huge mistake? Or the best decision of her life?

4 Months Later

“I’m going to miss you so much baby girl,” Roger said as he watched Y/N get dressed and ready in front of the mirror. He was still lying in bed, enjoying a lazy morning in after their previous night’s activities. Perched up against the pillows, he had a cigarette dangling between his lips, the sheet haphazardly thrown over his lower half.

Y/N peeked at him from her view in the mirror, a small smile on her lips as she finished swiping on some red lipstick, her favorite and one she knew Roger loved on her. Studying her dress, she decided it was fine for work, and it might need a scarf - her neck and chest area were splattered in light blue purple bruises. Courtesy of Roger, of course.

“I’m going to miss you too, Rog,” she turned around and looked at the half naked beauty of a man watching her like she was the reason for all the glittering stars in the night sky. It had taken a while to get to this point, but she felt like their relationship was stronger than ever.

Roger had slowly earned back her trust, something that was a day by day effort, but he went all out. He never missed a single date night, was early to things more often then not, he bought her pretty and expensive pieces of jewelry and clothing (which she always tried to refuse, but Roger would never let her say no), flowers and chocolates were sent to her office once a week. It was almost overwhelming, but she loved the effort. But somehow, in the farthest reaches of her mind, she had a slight feeling like something was going to go wrong. Maybe it was the way Roger almost overcompensated, or the looks the others, namely John, would give her whenever Y/N was with them. Like they knew something was up.

“Hurry home,” he whispered reaching for her hand and gently pulling her down so she was sat next to him. He reached up and twirled a lock of her hair, “I’ll be here waiting for you.”

“I’ll only be gone for two days, love. I think you’ll be able to handle it. Besides, you’ve the boys,” she laughed lightly, pushing him back down on the bed as he tried shower her in kisses, “stop you! You’re already marked me enough so I’m gong to have a wear scarf. Makeup can’t cover all this.”

“That way everyone knows exactly who you belong to,” he insisted, admiring his handiwork on her delicate skin. She rolled her eyes at him, but a small smile toyed on her crimson lips. She looked at her watch and sighed at the time, she was already going to be late by this point.

“I’ve got to go,” she whispered quietly, grabbing her bag that was by the door, pack and ready for the weekend work trip. She walked back over to him, pressing a kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a ruby red lip print, “be good, Roger. Please?”

“I’ll be right here waiting for you to get home. Dinner, wine, and dessert,” he waggled his eyebrows at the last part, “will be waiting for you when you get back. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said the last part quietly, giving him a last look before walking out of the bedroom. She wondered what she’d return in two days time, if he’d actually come through on his promises. She hoped he’d come through. She really wanted him to come through, “goodbye, Roger.”

“Goodbye, love of my life.”

Even though she had only been gone for two days, it felt she had been gone for an eternity. She was more than ready to go to Roger’s flat and jump into his arms, to feel his skin on her skin and be covered in kisses. Even if dinner and wine weren’t part of the equation, she certainly hoped dessert was.

She fiddled with the key Roger had given her, struggling to balance her bags and unlock the heavy wooden door. After a few long moments, she finally opened the door, stumbling into the dark living room. Dinner and wine were definitely out of the question, it appeared. Trying not to show too much disappoint, she set her bag by the door and flipped the light on. The only other light emanated from Roger’s bedroom where she could see that the door was perched open ever so slightly. Maybe he had been waiting for her and fallen asleep.

“Roger? My love, I’m back,” she slipped off her shows and padded down the hallway quietly in the event that he was asleep she wouldn’t startle him. Biting her lip, she pushed open the door, ready to greet her boyfriend, but stopped halfway through her actions at the sight that met her eyes.

If he hadn’t heard her, he must have sense her because Roger’s head whipped up and his ocean eyes met hers, his mouth agape in shock. He stopped his thrusts, the woman underneath him let out a huff and told him to carry on.

“Y/N,” was all he managed to get out as he removed himself from the woman, who slowly realized what was going on, attempting to cover herself up in a vain attempt at modesty.

Y/N just shook her head at him, not able to find the words as she stormed out of the room, anger coursing through her veins. Roger followed her, begging her to stop and let him explain, staggering around a bit and slurring his words, a clear indication that he was drunk, or at least somewhat shitfaced.

“Baby, please let me explain!” he tried to grab her hand. but she pulled out of his grasp, marveling at his nerve, “Y/N! I-it’s not what it looks like?”

“It’s not what it looks like?” she almost laughed at his nerve, wondering if he was trying to convince himself or her that he had a plausible excuse. She almost wanted to stay and let him go on to see what kind of possible story he concocted to cover up his continuing infidelity, “because that looked a lot like you fucking another woman. You’ve got bad eyesight, Rog, but I think even you would have been able to see that.”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” he said in a quiet voice, realizing the compromising position he was in; still naked in front of a woman who had now been twice scorned by him, “I-I had a bit too much to drink. Blame it on the alcohol.”

“That’s the weakest and most pathetic argument I’ve ever heard,” she laughed a little bit, looking up a the ceiling to keep tears from trickling down her face, “blame it on the alcohol? I cannot fathom where you get this amount of nerve from. You chose to get drunk. You chose to chat up another woman. You chose to fuck another woman.”

“It all happened so fast,” he was almost whimpering at her by this point, but she wasn’t having it. Not again.

“I was gone for two days,” she sighed as she walked to the door to grab her bag and shoes, “you couldn’t even wait for two days? I should have known better, huh? I should have known as soon as I walked in the door and the lights were off and that dinner and wine I was promised weren’t prepared.”

“Baby, please,” his eyes widened with surprise as she put her hand on the doorknob and slowly opened the door.

“Has this been going on the whole time since we’ve been back together?” she posed the question, but wasn’t quite sure if she wanted the answer. It would make sense and explain all the lavish and luxurious gifts he had gotten her - a way to compensate for his eternal turmoil, “because if you have been, I will never speak to you again.”

“T-this is the first time, I swear,” his voice sounded small, almost like a child that had gotten in trouble.

“The second time, you mean,” she reminded him harshly of his previous philandering. The first time that crushed her heart and shattered into a million little pieces. It had taken a long time to mend those bits back together, and she still somehow had felt like it wasn’t the same. This time it didn’t hurt as much, it felt like there wasn’t as much to break. Her heart hadn’t been the same.

“Y/N-”

“No, Roger,” she bit her lip, knowing she was likely smearing the red lipstick she had worn just for him on her teeth. It didn’t matter at that point - nothing matter, “I asked you to do the simplest of things. It you didn’t want to abide by that, then you should have let me go. This isn’t a complicated thing, Rog, if you want to sleep with multiple people, break up with me. That’s all I asked.”

“Y/N-”

Save it, Rog,” she stepped out the door and give him one last hurt look, “I loved you, I gave you all I could, but it just wasn’t enough for you. Perhaps I’ll never be enough for you.”

“Don’t go, please don’t walk out,” he tried to run after her, but she closed the door with a loud slam, letting the sound resonate throughout the quiet building.

She let out a heaving sob to herself, not caring about the ugly sounds coming out of her mouth. She kicked herself for letting this happen again. She should have known better; should have known that he wouldn’t change. But she had given him another chance, another opportunity ti break her heart. And he did just that.

Deacy almost spilled his cup of tea at the furious pounding that came at his door. He glanced at the clock he had sitting bear the television, and frowned when he noticed the late hour. It seemed like he would never be able to enjoy a quiet evening to himself.

Murmuring quietly to himself, he treaded to the door, opening it with a sigh of annoyance which quietly turned into surprise as Y/N stood there, looking at him with a desolate crimson smile, mascara tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Y/N, what’s happened, my love?” he immediately wrapped his arms around her, holding her as tightly as possible, kissing the side of her head softly as he tried to calm her down. She just sobbed into his shoulder, soaking the material of his shirt with tears and makeup, but neither of them minded.

“John,” she pulled back quietly, looking into his bright eyes, “I need you.”

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[har-rison-s]

you're the one

Roger Taylor x Reader

request: Heyyy! Don’t know if your taking requests but could you do a Roger Taylor imagine where you two are at one of the other boys wedding and that’s where he realises you’re the one ♥️

characters: Brian May, John Deacon, Freddie Mercury, Roger Taylor, reader, Chrissie May, others.

warnings: none! you might tear up, though.

main masterlist

borhap masterlist

roger masterlist

a/n: beautiful boy...

It was the day. Finally the day Brian's soon-to-be wife had been dreaming about since she was at least seven years old. It was her wedding day, and she was marrying no other than Brian May.

Y/N couldn't hear the end of it for at least two and a half years. You see, it's that long of a time because the band's schedule and tours were getting in the way of confirming a wedding date. The engaged couple were a little agitated by it, but when they could finally mark a date in their calendar, they were as happy as ever.

Y/N, Chrissie's not-blood-related sister, and Roger Taylor, Brian's band mate and long-term best friend, were the wedding planners. They had just as much time as the next rock star and regular person would to plan a wedding. Roger was chaotic and unstoppable, but Y/N had grown used to it and accepted the fact that he liked to laze around and wait for someone else to do things in his place.

Many times Roger had barged into Y/N's apartment - which had practically become their “wedding office” - and introduced her to a new idea he had while his mind was intoxicated by alcohol. Y/N would sigh and hold her head in her hands and Roger would tell her to stop sulking and start writing down the idea.

Y/N had shown Roger Chrissie's wedding dress the day she bought it. The dress was truly beautiful - white, long and not too fitting to the body. White lace flowers wrapped the shoulders, breasts and hips. “What if I try it on?” Y/N had suggested, but Roger denied her of doing so, partly because she totally shouldn't - Chrissie should be the only one ever wearing it. And partly because he wanted the image of Y/N in a wedding dress to stay in his mind only. Or did he?

And finally, when everything was done - a place and a "vow master” arranged, invitations sent out, dresses and tuxedos bought, food ordered - they knew the day had come.

Roger and Y/N had got themselves matching costumes - both would be dressed in yellow. Y/N bought herself a yellow flowery dress, and Roger bought a yellow suit, with a yellow tie. They were giggling in the dressing room, adjusting each other's clothes. “This is going to be great!” “We're the best wedding planners there ever could be!”

The two were rushing around the rented guest house once the invited people started to show up. Once in a while, they'd have to check up on different things, and asked each other if this or that had been done. Y/N had done so many things Roger would never have thought of having the time to do. 

“Have the cooks arrived?”

“Yes.”

“Have they been shown around the kitchen? Do they have the recipes and time?”

“Yes, and yes.”

“What about the cake?”

“It's been in the freezer since 8 this morning. I've arranged my cousins to take it out in the necessary time.” 

Roger looks at her at that moment and wonders how she managed to do all that. A look of pure awe and admiration shines on his face while Y/N adjusts her hair, standing in front of a mirror.

“How have you done all that?” He asks her quietly.

“It's not that hard. Takes a few minutes and ounces of frustration, but it's all right.” Y/N admits, and chuckles. 

“Have you slept at all recently?”

“Yes, I have in fact. Why do you care?” 

“I just wonder how you've done almost everything for this wedding while I sulk around and speak empty promises.”

Y/N laughs. “You're alright, Roger. Done more than I ever expected you to.”

Something rises in Roger's heart. He doesn't know what it is, he can't explain it. His common sense completely falters in front of Y/N's overtaking, devotion and energy for this wedding. Roger can now see that Chrissie's happiness matters to Y/N perhaps just as much as Brian's matters to him, if not more.

Everyone cries out of happiness during the ceremony, making it a total cliché. “Is my mascara still put?” Y/N whispers to Roger quietly and he takes one look at her. Yes, well, a little bit of mascara is smudged underneath her eyes, but she still looks beautiful, even when she cries. “It's fine, I wouldn't worry about it.” “Course not, you're a man.”

The wedding is truly a place to be - full of joy, energy, smiles, tears and laughter. Y/N and Roger arrange the gifts from the guests each with a champagne glass in hand. The strength Y/N has in her system is unbelievable to Roger, taking that she's barely slept during the previous night. Perhaps he's blown away by the strength and devotion of women, or maybe it's something else...

But when they're sitting at the table, watching Chrissie during her speech, is when Roger's mind starts to realise something. He doesn't think it's true, he doubts it, but still it burdens his mind. 

How beautiful it is to watch someone speak about their other, who they care for so much, love so much and will do anything for. Their eyes sparkle in a different way, and the tears seem to just be the detail needed in the whole thing.

When Y/N stands up to say her toast, Roger knows that his realisation is true. He can't deny it, he can't even stop it anymore. He knows Y/N's the one for him.

The way she smiles when she remembers her teen years with Chrissie, the way she laughs - barely able to breathe - about an incident in the school ball with her and some guys. The gesture of her hand as it's tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, or the way she confidently stands while talking. The shine in her eyes that radiates through her whole face, the yellow dress adding more to her looking like a sun. And the fantasy that she could currently be speaking at her and Roger's wedding makes Roger almost cry.

He needs her in his life, to help him, to be around him. He could be the one to make her happy, give her the best wedding anyone could ever have. Roger doesn't care that he's watching her with hearts instead of eyes, and he doesn't care that everyone else can see it, including the fresh man and wife. He doesn't care for others because all he can see is Y/N.

Everyone applauds her for a wonderful and touching speech and Y/N sits down at the table. She almost empties all of her full champagne glass and then sighs heavily. She leans over to Roger. “I improvised most of that!” Y/N confesses to him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. 

“Really?” He asks slowly, taking a sip of his own champagne. 

“Yeah! You know why? God, I'm horrible, really...” She trails off.

“Go on, tell me.” Roger urges her. 

“Well, I... I sorta accidentally flushed it down the loo.” Y/N admits, her eyes not meeting Roger's, she's looking at her anxious fingers. Roger almost spits out his drink and then laughs. Luckily, no one's making a speech at that moment, or it would have been ruined. “Why are you laughing? It's not funny! I'm a horrible person.”

Roger looks at her, his eyes opened partly and smiles at her. That's why I love you, he wants to say, but he doesn't. He just stays quiet.

“Why are you staring at me?” Y/N asks, blushing a little. When Roger doesn't answer her, she moves to eat what's on her plate, although food is the last thing on her mind. 

Roger is still staring at her as he puts his hands over hers, clasping his fingers around her fragile hand. Y/N hesitantly looks at him in question, her eyes waiting for an answer of any kind. It surely enough comes her way soon enough.

“Because you're the one.” Roger whispers, his eyes boring into Y/N's adoringly. A short gasp leaves her lips at his words.

;)

[stedes-black-bonnet]

My Baby Does Me: Chapter 5

POV: John Deacon x reader

Notes: Whelp, I got carried away by Freddie in this one, guys. We will rejoin our regularly scheduled program in Chapter 6 

Warnings: Swearing?

Abstract: You share a closet with a famous Queen.

You were in the closet with Freddie Mercury, holding a string. Could this night get any more bizarre? You immediately chastised yourself for jinxing it. You had the distinct feeling anything could happen in Freddie and Jim’s home. This had more to do with Freddie, you guessed, but you couldn’t deny the magic of this night and this place.

Freddie was as fascinated by the string as one of his cats might have been. To him it was more than a trinket from the party downstairs. He knew Deacy was sentimental to a fault, and somehow this balloon string meant something to him beyond its basic utility. But what? How best to find out?

Freddie looked from the string to you, deciding best how to phrase his words. His raw charisma was unmatched by anyone you had ever seen. Every gesture, every touch was laced with elegance, every word, every glance was intentional. Some might say he was affected and fraudulent even, but that wasn’t it, that didn’t touch it; he was stylized, particular, and commanding. There was absolutely nothing fake about Freddie Mercury.

“Y/N, dear?”

“Yes, Freddie?” Your voice sounded far away.

“Did something happen to you and Deacy with that string?” His eyebrows jumped scandalously.

You were sure he was implying something akin to being tied up. Admittedly, you felt a little tongue-tied, though that had nothing to do with this string. Going over the events of the past half hour, you felt somewhat surprised at yourself and unsure if you could trust your memory. It felt like those moments in the cupboard with John Deacon had happened to someone else, someone more interesting, someone more beautiful. Maybe this string was all the proof you needed to remind yourself of what had transpired. You kissed and kissed and kissed a man over and over and over. It had happened. And it wasn’t just any man, but John Deacon, bassist of Queen. And here you were standing next to Freddie Mercury talking about a string Deacy had given you only moments before. The absurdity of this made you burst into hysterical trills of laughter. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the natural high from making out with someone you couldn’t take your eyes off of, someone you couldn’t stop thinking about, maybe it was the larger than life presence of Freddie Mercury. You weren’t sure.

Freddie laughed with you, “Are you trying to tell me he did tie you up?”

“No, not at all!”

“And you’re disappointed he didn't?” Freddie winked at you. “Really, men just need a little encouragement then they’re ready to play the game, darling.”

“I usually don’t do this.” You slumped against the wall. Deep in thought, you slid to the ground.

“What? Talk with queers in closets? Quick! Should we oust ourselves?”

You knew he was trying to make you laugh; he was performing for you. “I don’t typically carry on with men, or with rock-stars, and I definitely don’t just make out with them at the drop of a hat.”

“Really? I used to do it all the time!” Freddie joined you on the floor with a flourish.

“Which--men or rock-stars?” You asked cheekily.

“Both! I recommend it highly. All you beautiful people should be making out all the time, if you ask me.”

“You must mean everyone but me,” You adjusted your glasses, frowning slightly. Freddie studied you closely, looking confused. You shook your head, “I’m not. I mean, I know the ‘everyone is pretty in their own way kinda line.’ I’ve always been the smart one, or the ‘oh at least she has nice eyes’ one; the one with the good personality; I’m not the pretty one, trust me.”

Freddie rumbled, sighing deeply. He knew about insecurity. A stranger in a strange land, surrounded by adoring fans who expected him to act a certain way continually. It was tiring to always be someone else, to never have anyone to share your true self with. Ever since he could remember he had been teased about his overbite, his ethnicity, his flamboyance, his identity, his sexuality; what often gets overlooked is how adversity often makes the weak strong, and the enemy petty and to be pitied. Well, here he was, in white hot-pants, a full-length red cape, lined in regal white fur, and an honest to god crown; he wasn’t about to let anyone tell him who he had to be, or what he was, or that who he was wasn’t acceptable. Life means absolutely nothing until you can be who you are out loud. Hiding wasn’t ever anything he was interested in or good at.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Freddie?” You were both sitting on the floor of the pantry, just two old friends sharing confidences.

“You know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“What? Contemplating the course of my entire life?”

“You’re feeling sorry for yourself. And, dear, what really irritates me about it is you’re feeling sorry for yourself for having a good time. You’re beating yourself up because you don’t believe you deserve what happened in here, whatever that may have been.”

You wanted to fight him, you wanted to protest. But you couldn’t because you knew he was right. You weren’t a child; you were an adult, and old enough to know the difference between rationality and self-delusion. You weren’t being fair to yourself. Why were you deliberately trying to ruin what had happened between you and Deacy? What use was it to self-sabotage the moments you had shared? It was that beast in the back of your mind, the one that made you feel less than, the one that said you’re not good enough; it was awake in your mind, ready to pounce over every good thing that had happened tonight. Yet, here was this relative stranger, this rock-star front-man, this talented musician, sitting here telling you to knock it the fuck off. He didn’t need to do it; all Freddie saw was a person in need, and without even thinking of the consequences, here he was, beating away the darkness in your mind. He was too good to be true. And you couldn’t deny the accuracy of his words.

Since your teen years, however, you were suddenly in a world where everyone was compared to everyone else. Where standards were unreachable, unrealistic, and designed to separate people from each other instead of bringing them together. Instead of believing in yourself, in your own inherent worth, you belittle yourself, and destroyed your own happiness. What you and Deacy did happened to you and because you wanted it and he wanted you. You deserved it. Now if only you could really believe it.

Freddie took your hand in his, “Listen,” he said, “I don’t do that anymore. I used to, but not anymore. I don’t feel sorry for myself. And now that we’re friends, you don’t either. I don’t intend to let you. Deacy’s girlfriend won’t be down on herself unless she truly has reason for it.”

Looking into his brown eyes, you couldn’t help falling a little love with him. No one had ever put it that clearly to you before in such terms of finality. Feeling sorry for yourself for drama you create in your own head was pointless. Here we are again, our own worst enemies.

You didn’t know how to express your gratitude for his words, so instead, you said, “I’m not Deacy’s girlfriend.”

“Not yet.” His smile was conspiratorial. There was a glint in his eyes that made you feel like he always knew a secret, always had a hidden truth in his pocket. “Now, do I have to bitch at you more, or are we on the same page?”

“Same page, definitely. Though, if you wanted to bitch at me more, I’d let you.” You both laughed, and he patted your hand affectionately before letting go of it.

“Believe me, I’ve already done enough bitching tonight. I’m going to need to be contrite the rest of the evening, I wager.”

“Would that have to do with the chandelier?” You ventured a guess worth guessing.

“Jim is going to be disappointed. I do hate letting him down.” His frown was extravagant.

“Like you let the chandelier down?”

Freddie’s eyes flashed mischievously at you, “Well, I was caught up in the moment! and it really was the flashiest distraction I could think of…” This was pure drama; he tilted his head up, and swung an imaginary sword in the air like Errol Flynn.

“You dropped a chandelier from the ceiling to win at sardines?”

Freddie straightened out the creases in his cape, “Well, it does seem a bit foolish now, doesn’t it?”

“A bit?”

“Well only a bit, darling, considering there’s no way we can possibly win now.”

“I didn’t know you were all so competitive.”

“Oh, honey, we fight over EVERYTHING. Lyrics, politics, pizza toppings, tempo, fashion, where to eat for breakfast, legal words in scrabble, what order tracks should be on our albums, whether Godfather Part II is superior to the first one, and on and on. Really, it’s our favorite hobby, arguing with each other. You’d think the music, but no. You know, it’s purely by habit at this point we haven’t gone our separate ways.”

“That and you all clearly love each other, and love what you create together.”

Freddie’s eyes softened considerably, “Well, yes, that too. I’m surprised they put up with me. Honestly, I’m a basket-case, relentless; I never give in, and I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.”

“I admire that; I wish I had that.”

“Oh, you will someday.” He delicately waved a hand at you,  “Either someone will push you hard enough and you’ll erupt out of that shell you’ve crafted for yourself, or you’ll get tired of always putting yourself second.”

“Deacy’s very mysterious.”

“Mysterious?” He was shaking his head, “He’s easy. He’s a walking contradiction in monochromatic outfits.”

“You think that’s easy?” You asked half-impressed half-disbelieving.

“After the people I’ve dated, yes.” He could tell you weren’t convinced. “Look at it like this: you’re famous, and it is like walking on a tightrope 24/7 darling, and maybe you’re in one of those spangly bodysuits hoping some small umbrella will keep you from falling flat on your arse.” He laughed, but his eyes were serious and dark. “Then! Suddenly, you fall.” He clapped his hands together loudly, making you jump. “And you don't fall onto some sensuous mattress, your lover waiting for you; no, you tumble into a crowd of people. The people who are always wanting a piece of you, needing to know what you're wearing tonight, who you’re fucking, who you want to fuck, what you’re next project is, if you really were out with Elton last night? Is it true what such and such tabloid printed about you last week?” He was speaking faster and faster and you knew the truth of his words ran deep into his heart. “Was it true what your ex said about you on that program? Were you seen doing cocaine at whatever club? Are the rumors true about trouble in the band?  

“And it’s endless questions and lies, and it never stops. Not until they have every piece of you on display. Nothing is yours anymore; it’s theirs. How do you be yourself in that kind of ruthless swarm, darling? What would you do? What do you hide away? What do you keep for yourself? How do you keep yourself alive? What do you lie about to protect yourself, to protect those you love? How does it work? Being in the public eye and being private? You start to develop this second-skin literally, a persona that takes care of you. Though, this protection makes it harder to be yourself when the time calls for it. Maybe you aren’t even sure who you are anymore? Or even what that means.

“We all cope in whatever way we can; Deacy and I cope the same exact way. Yes, he’s not as outlandish as I am, but that is what is expected of me. He’s the bassist, they’re supposed to be elusive, quiet, enigmatic, sharp; and yes, he is those things in the public eye, but in private, well, you’ve seen him; he’s got his own brand of outlandish, outrageous swagger, charm, and daring. Still sharp as a tack and as deadly as an asp. Out there, he’s the musician they expect, the silent partner who writes the most heartfelt songs for me to sing, but he’s more than that. We all are. Well, maybe except Roger.”

You laughed together.

“It’s easy to pick on, Rog. He’s the strongest of us all though. Him and Brian. Strong as the sun, those dazzling men.”

“I had never thought about fame in those terms before, Freddie.” You were overwhelmed with what these men went through just to be successful artists. As someone following, hopefully, down the same path, you wondered if you were up to the challenge. “I’m sorry it is so consuming.”

Freddie grinned, “They haven’t discovered the person capable of consuming me yet, dear. We like it, Y/N. We must or we wouldn’t do it. We’d retire and do something else. Something,” he shuddered, “normal. It’s not the kind of men we are, to shy away from what we want.”

“Does that include women?”

“Deacy won’t let you go without a fight. Nothing will get in his way of possessing you, of belonging to you.”

“We’ve only just met; it’s ridiculous.”

“There it is again, that negative voice. Just enjoy the ride and take it at your own speed. Just because it appears he’s settled with you doesn’t mean he’ll pluck up the courage to tell you that for months. He’s romantic, yes, but not insane. He’d just die of embarrassment if he scared you away.”

“So would I, I mean, if I did something to scare him away.”

Freddie shrugged like a 1940’s starlet, “You won’t. You also aren’t stupid; he’d never be interested in you if you were; he’s a man of taste. Too bad he’s not queer.” He sighed regretfully.

“I’d fight you for him, Mr. Mercury!”

“And you’d probably win. I’m a bit too nelly to fight you on my own.” He mimed boxing you.

“How long before they send out a search party?”

“Could be days!” He gasped, “Why don’t we rejoin what’s left of the game?”

Freddie stood, then offered his hand to help you up. “Before we part ways, can I let you in on a little secret?”

You nodded.

“I know where Lydia is hiding already.” Freddie whispered.

Tag List: @phantom-fangirl-stuff @triggeredpossum @obsessedwithrogertaylor @groupiie-love @richiethotzierz @partydulce @sophierobisonartfoundationblr @psychostarkid

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

RPF Masterlist

Queen/BoRhap Boys

The Origins of Rogerina [x] Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader   Word Count: 4,563 [3 Parts] Rating: Mature

I’m In Love With My Car [x] Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader  Word Count: 1700 Rating: Teen 

Inspirations [x] Pairing: Roger Taylor x Original Character Word Count: 1563 Rating: Explicit

Frosty Love [x] Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader Word Count: 1442 Rating: Teen

Dear Diamond [x] Pairing: Roger Taylor/Brian May/Reader Word Count: 893 Rating: Teen

Mr Rockstar [x] Pairing: Brian May x Reader Word Count: 2349 Rating: Teen

Fat Bottomed Girls [x] Pairing: Brian May x Plus Size! Reader Word Count: 2665 Rating: Explicit

We Are A Family [x] Pairing: John Deacon x Reader Word Count: 5000 [4 Parts] Rating: Teen

Early Christmas Present [x] Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader Word Count: 1289 Rating: Gen

Tell Me You’re Pretty [x] Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader Word Count: 630 Rating: Gen

Due Date [x] Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader Word Count: 1968 Rating: Teen

Actors

Rave Review [x] Pairing: Richard Madden x Original Character Word Count: 2046 Rating: Explicit

New Man [x] Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader Word Count: 1500 Rating: Teen

Galway Girl [x] Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader Word Count: 2050 Rating: Explicit

Instagram Famous [x] Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader Word Count: 2050 Rating: Gen

Getting You Home [x] Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader Word Count: 3400 Rating: Explicit

Warm Welcome [x] Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader Word Count: 1300 Rating: Gen

Double Jeopardy [x] Pairing: Bradley Cooper x Reader  Word Count: 1550 Rating: Explicit

Amnesia [x] Pairing: Colin Jost x Scarlett Johansson  Word Count: 800 Rating: Teen 

Oh Baby [x] Pairing: Zendaya x Reader Word Count: 668 Rating: Teen

Not Just a Storyline [x] Pairing: Alycia Debham-Carey x Reader  Word Count: 650 Rating: Gen

Chris Evans

You’re The One [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 3200 Rating: Mature

Lessons In Love [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Original Character Word Count: 41,500 [30 Parts] Rating: Mature

Conflicted [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 24,000 [12 Parts] Rating: Explicit

Just A Fling, Yeah? [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 20,000+ [11 Parts] Rating: Explicit

More Than Just a Fling [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 1945 Rating: Teen

The Cutest Customer [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: Gen Word Count: 2062

I’ve  Missed You [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 2242 Rating: Explicit

A Tipsy Nurse and Her Patient [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 1000

Fine Dining [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Original Female Character Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2500

Never Have I Ever [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: General Word Count: 861

Happier [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 1200

Age Is Just A Number [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 3095

Oh Daddy [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 400 Rating: Gen

I’ve Missed You [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 2250 Rating: Explicit

A Wake-Up Call [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 925

Only If You Want Me To [x] Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 3352

Sebastian Stan

I Got the Boy [x] Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Rating: General Word Count: 643

Such a Cute Couple [x] Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Rating: General Word Count: 2005

Are You Flirting With Me? [x] Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 1214

Any Fool Can Make a Baby? [x] Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Rating: 513 Word Count: Teen and Up

Is That the Only Reason? [x] Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Greek Reader Rating: Gen Word Count: 1782

Jesse Williams 

Let’s Play A Game [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 640 Rating: Teen

Baby Brain [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 900 Rating: Teen

A Gentleman Never Tells [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 1500 Rating: Teen

Spill Your Guts [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 950 Rating: Teen

Marry Me? [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 400 Rating: Teen

Nervous Babe? [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 1000 Rating: Gen

Newsworthy [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 1100 Rating: Teen

Teeny Tiny Crush [x] Pairing: Jesse Williams x Reader Word Count: 1500 Rating: Gen

Royals

Breakfast Then Bed [x] Pairing: Prince Harry x Reader Word Count: 800 Rating: Gen

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Whispers Among Roses

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/RADLbZN by starryeyeddreamerr You knew a thing or two about love and you promised to show the deacon Dick Grayson every single thing you think you know. (or after being sent to the nunnery with a broken heart, you fall for Dick Grayson over time) I don't really know I haven't planned really far ahead just read it, please. I promise its good. Words: 2794, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Teen Titans (Animated Series), Nightwing (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Categories: F/M Characters: Dick Grayson, John Constantine, Reader, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne Relationships: John Constantine/Reader, Dick Grayson/You, Dick Grayson/Reader Additional Tags: Underage Kissing, Teacher-Student Relationship, Alternate Universe - Regency, getting sent to the nunnery, John Constantine Has Issues, John Constantine is a teacher, Priest Dick Grayson, Dick x reader should be the main relationship, I messed up and made the constantine really interesting he was supposed to be a minor character, priest x nun, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'll add more tags, Naive Reader, First Kiss, First Love, First Time read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/RADLbZN

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Time travel rescue final part; 11th Doctor x teen reader ft. Queen

*Author’s note*

Okay guys this is it. The FINAL chap. of my Doctor Who/Queen crossover. Thank you all so much to those of you who liked or loved the series. I had a BLAST writing this request that came from my Wattpad account, never did I think I could enjoy writing a crossover fic like this so much, esp. with one of my other fav. franchises Doctor Who (and also making this my first ever series of said fandom). So I hope you all enjoy the last chapter my lovely darlings, have a Happy New Year and until the next update :)

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural​

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@ixchel-9275​

@platawnic​

@simonedk​

@queendeakyy​

@theroyalbrownbarbie​

@geek-and-proud​

@kairosfreddie​

@bensrhapsody​

______________________________________________________

Shit! Shit! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck fucking hell! I tried to break free as he swam deeper down the sea but he kept an iron grip. It was then I felt two more arms wrap around me and that’s when I turned to see Deacy imprisoning me in his grip, exposing his sharp fangs as well.

Brian and Freddie soon joined in until I was trapped in a four way iron grip Queen cage.

My lungs were on fire, my ears almost felt like they were about to pop and all I could see were the razor sharp teeth and black eyes.  I then was turned towards Deacy and surprisingly he pressed his lips against mine. But it wasn’t for a kiss, because I felt air being blown into my body and my lungs that once felt like they were about to explode, suddenly felt like they were expanding with air once again.

Freddie was next as he cupped both sides of my face and filled my lungs with air just as Deacy did.  As Brian followed Freddie and Deacy’s method and gave me more air, the following thoughts were going through my head; Why were they doing this? Were they not full sirens yet? Or was this just a trick to getting me to stay alive so that I could feel every ounce of pain that would come?

It was then Roger turned my head towards him, his forehead came against mine and he pressed his lips to mine as I heard one final sound of air hissing through the water and I felt like I could fully breathe underwater.  When he separated from me, he just looked at me with that cunning look before turning to the others.

They nodded and that’s when Freddie took both my wrists and extended my arms out as far as they could go.  I tried to pull them in but he had a firm grip and held on strong.  I felt Deacy hold my feet together and even removing my shoes while Brian and Roger stayed at either side of me.

I then felt Deacy’s claw stroke down my sole making me flinch.  Oh god no don’t tell me they’re gonna—but it was too late as I felt Brian tickle around my neck, Deacy slowly adding another finger down my sole and Roger tickle my stomach.

I squirmed around trying to break free from Freddie and Deacy’s grasp but they held strong.  Soon I couldn’t help it; once all five of Deacy’s claw like nails were playing my soles like they were his bass, Roger began tickling the center of my stomach and Brian spidering up and down from my armpits to my ribs I began laughing hysterically.

Thanks to whatever they did to me, I was able to laugh without having water enter my lungs.  I squirmed and thrashed around but they wouldn’t let up their relentless tickle attack.

“NOHAHAHAOOO!!! GUYS Nohohohoho! GUYS PLEASE STO—STOP! STOP! STOP! I can’t—I CAN’T TAKE IT Please stop! UNCLE UHUHUHUHNCLLEE! Uncle!” I heard Freddie chuckle wickedly and he said.

“Alright my darlings, let’s give her a break.” Soon the tickle torture ceased and I swam away from them and was shocked to see their eyes phased to their normal colored eyes and teeth change from razor sharp to their normal style.

“Wait so…..you guys—didn’t, I mean….”

“No love. We weren’t part of the frenzy against Prenter.” Brian said.

“Even if we were, I doubt he would’ve tasted any good.” Roger teased.

“Bastard was filled with poison anyway.” Said Deacy.

“Then…..why the hell did you make me go through the horror thinking you guys would eat me?!” I snapped.

“We’re sorry darling, but it was Roger’s idea to do it. A nice little prank is all.”

“You bastards!” I proclaimed as I proceeded to slap each of them in the back of the head or punch them as hard as I could. Of course they just laughed at me and it was then Roger captured me in his arms once more as he said.

“Oh come off it love, you know it was just a bit of fun.”

“Well not for me.” I said in a low tone that just made me think of all the other companions that have joined the Doctor and I before their lives were lost.  Taking notice of my solemn tone, Roger hugged me and said.

“I’m sorry love. I—I didn’t mean any harm of it. I just—”

“It’s fine Rog, I’m not mad. You couldn’t have known.” He nuzzled his face against mine letting out a soft and loving purr.

The boys then swam me back to the surface and I crawled back onto the sand and they followed suit.

“So they….I mean they just turned you guys?” I asked.

“Yeah. When Paul and the scout that tricked me into thinking it was Veronica brought us here. They told us that we were meant to be pawns to them.” Deacy first started off, followed by Freddie.

“Once they turned us into one of them, they would send us back to Earth as part of their ‘Conquest of Earth’. By using us as their Kingly puppets.”

“When we would go live Christmas eve night, using our siren powers we would be able to seduce the world through our music and have the entire human race under the control of the Rusalkas.” added Brian.

“But they sure as hell didn’t count on the bravest woman coming to the rescue to foil their evil plans.” Said Roger with a playful ruffle of my hair.  I smiled and, this time, allowed him to mess up my hair.

“Well I’m glad I did. But I just hope those things don’t come back.” I said.  

“No worries darling, we had a little spell placed. Now all they’ll hear is your sweet laughter for days to come, thinking that we’re still torturing you.” Freddie said with a bop to my nose.

“Gee thanks. Now all we gotta do is find a way to climb our way out of here.” It was then we all heard the sounds of a very familiar box.  It was then floating just ahead of us was the TARDIS.  The doors opened revealing—River Song.

“River!” I exclaimed.

“Hello sweetie, need a lift?” she grinned as she tossed down a rope ladder.  I took hold of the ladder but due to my adrenaline finally leaving my system, I just felt this intense numbness in my legs that made me almost unable to walk.

“(Y/n), are you alright?” Roger asked worriedly.

“My legs I—I don’t think I can move them.”

“What’s going on down there?” asked the Doctor who now stood beside River.

“Here, wrap your arms around my neck.” I did as Roger suggested and he pulled me up against his back and proceeded to climb up the ladder followed by Brian, Deacy and then Freddie.

The two time lords helped all of us into the TARDIS and once I was sprawled out on my back I groaned and that’s when Roger immediately came up to me and he slowly pulled the legs of my jeans up revealing the most gruesome sight.

Both my legs were slashed up pretty bad, about an inch or two deep.  It looked like a lion or a leopard had gotten a hold of my legs and just used them both as a scratching post.

“Oh my god—(y/n) darling who did this?” Freddie asked in horror.

“Paul, during our fight.”

“The bastard, perhaps we should’ve taken a bite out of him.” Deacy sneered.  River and the Doctor came down beside me and River said.

“I’ll grab the first aid kit.”

“Let me try something.” Roger said. Everyone looked at him and I asked exhaustedly feeling just how weak I was starting to feel from the blood loss.

“Wha—what are you…..”

“Shhh, just relax lovie. I—honestly don’t know if it’ll work but I hope it does. Just relax and focus on my voice.” My head was resting against his shoulder as I was positioned into sitting on his lap.  He placed his hand over my right calf where the most deepest scar was.  I hissed in pain but he calmly shushed me before he began to sing.

His hand softly illuminated a beautiful blue and I could see my leg starting to glow the same way.  His song made my brain go a little fuzzy as I leaned further against his shoulder and my leg felt tingly, you know the same tingling sensation when your foot or leg falls asleep but not as intense.

Soon enough my leg was healed.  He proceeded to do the same with my other leg as well as my shoulder that Paul had bit into.  Once I was healed, I felt him kiss my temple and hug me protectively.  I looked up to River and said.

“How did you find us?”

“I figured you and the Doctor would need my help, remember I’m his future and he’s my past.” She explained.

“So does that make you a Timelord or I should say time lady?” asked Deacy.

“Spoilers Deacy darling.” She winked at him. “Now since we are fortunate that England’s greatest band had not turned full siren yet, I managed to make this.” She pulled out a vial that held some sort of red liquid.

“What is that?” asked Brian.

“It’s a reversal serum to the siren transformation. But it only works if you haven’t had a taste of human flesh. So this will turn you guys back to normal in a few days.”

“Will they be better before the concert Christmas Eve?” I asked finally getting my senses back in order.  I knew the Hammersmith Odeon Christmas Eve concert was the biggest concert Queen had done after the release of a Night at the Opera, if they couldn’t do it then everything falls out of place.

“It’ll be up to them, but if they take it now then hopefully they will. But be warned you four; this will have to flush out everything so expect to get really sick for the next few days.”

“If it’ll help us turn back to normal, I’m willing to take it.” Freddie said.

“I just better not hear you whine again Fred, last time you caught the flu you couldn’t stop complaining for a full week.” Brian stated.

“The one downside to this is that I won’t be able to sing anymore, but I can’t let Veronica or my own son see me like this. I’m game.”

“We’re all in River.” She nodded and gave the bottle to Brian first since he was the closest to her.  He took a shot of it before handing it over to Deacy, then Freddie and finally Roger took the last swing of it.

Then almost immediately, the boys all held their stomachs in agony.  River and the Doctor quickly managed to find four bins for the boys to use and soon there was nothing but a symphony of puking and dry heaving.

“We gotta get these guys home.” I said.

“We will (y/n), don’t worry.” The Doctor said as he went over to the controls and sent us back to West London 1975, just three days before Christmas eve.

When we finally got there, with the help of some cloaks in the wardrobe, we managed to cover the boys up so that no one could see their siren appearances.  The Doctor helped Brian out, River took care of Freddie and I helped Deacy and Roger.

As we entered the back door of the arena, we planned on getting the guys into their dressing room to rest and I could keep an eye on them and make sure no one came in to see them.  At least until their physical appearances were back to normal.

“There you four are, we’ve been looking everywhere for you lot. Thankfully we managed to find a temporary stage to rehearse. I want all of you there now” John Reid came in front of us.

“Mr. Reid please, the boys suddenly have come down with a serious stomach bug, they’re in no condition to rehearse.” River spoke up.

“I don’t know who you are woman but these men are tied to a contract. And these past few days have been strange enough, especially since you came here lassie,” he said pointing at me. “We’ve wasted enough time and the broadcast is in three days. Now I want you four down the block in 10 minutes or you’re finished.”

“You know John Reid; next to Prenter you are the most selfish, greedy, hormonal bastard I had ever met. If this is how you treat your singers, then you should really take up the profession as correctional officer. So I suggest you get the hell out of our way and let these boys rest less you want to see the end of a silver knife.” I threatened.  I even gave him a defensive wolf-like growl showing him that I wasn’t afraid to go animalistic on his arse.  And once again just like earlier, he folded and didn’t say another word.

Thank god Miami took over managing Queen, I’ve always liked him better than Reid.  He cared about the boys, Reid only cared about the money and the blowjobs that he got.

“Alright, in here boys.” River said as she opened their dressing room and we got them all comfortable.  “Doctor lock the door.” He shut their dressing room door and locked it so that no one could enter inside.

“Here we go Rog, just lie here.” I said as I helped Roger lay down first since he looked like he was about to collapse dead. He curled up into a ball moaning in agony.  I then placed Deacy on another couch and he did the same thing Rog had done.

I found them some bins and cleared out the trash that was already in there so that they could start off fresh.  Soon enough Deacy heaved into the bin but what had me worried was that I saw blood coming out as well.

“River, is coughing out blood normal for the transformation reversal?”

“Yes, the blood isn’t human, it’s actually siren blood their gonna cough out. As I said the serums going to flush out anything siren related. Blood, diet, everything.”

“Is there anything we can do to help make this bearable for them?”

“The best we can do is just keep them hydrated and see that they get plenty of rest.” I nodded and looked at each of the guys solemnly, never thinking that I would see these four guys so sick in person.

So we made an agreement, the Doctor and River would ensure that no one was the see the guys and I was playing nurse since the guys trusted me the most.  I handed Brian a water bottle and he swore.

“Damn, and I thought getting hepatitis was agonizing.”

“Well unlike that, you didn’t run the risk of losing an arm.”

“I suppose I do.”

“Augh (y/n) darling I’m burning up again!” whined Freddie.  Brian turned to me and mouthed.

‘I’m sorry.’ I waved it off and dipped the rag that was hanging in the bowl into the water once more and wrung it out before heading over to Freddie and dabbed his clammy forehead.

“How does this feel Fred?”

“Mmm darling you are an angel sent from heaven.”

“Just trying to do my best Fred. Deacy, Rog you guys still okay?” the two of them gave me a thumbs up before just dropping their arms like they were lead.  After taking care of Fred I walked over to Deacy and adjusted his blanket once more to keep him from getting cold and he groaned out a thank you.

I then turned towards Rog and stroked the blonde hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear.

“I’m sorry.” I muttered.

“About what?” Roger’s voice croaked out.  I was startled by his sudden response as he now turned to me looking at me with those entrancing blue eyes.

“I—I…..I feel like this is my fault. You guys wouldn’t have become this if it hadn’t been for me.”

“Why must you assume this had anything to do with you?” he asked.  I felt him lift my chin, being cautious about his claw-like nails so that they wouldn’t scratch my skin.

“I mean—everywhere the Doctor and I go, there’s some threat waiting to happen, and I hoped that…..meeting you guys nothing would happen to my favorite band. That I could just meet you guys, tell you what you meant to me and…..not have any monster or alien force looking to threaten you four.”

“There—there’s no fault here love. Saving us took a lot of courage, even if you knew you could’ve died trying.”

“But if we hadn’t come here, then you guys would’ve had an amazing Christmas concert and continued on to grow bigger and bigger.”

“You didn’t bring the sirens here (n/n). You can’t diminish something beyond your control that you didn’t do yourself. And hey, think of it this way,” he brushed some of my hair out of my face as his other hand cupped the side of my face, this thumb brushing across my cheek, “If you hadn’t come to us, then we’d be stuck with Prenter for the rest of our careers.” I choked out a laugh as Roger chuckled softly.  We sat there for awhile in silence till I said.

“Get some sleep Rog, hopefully tomorrow you and the others will feel better.” He nodded and lay his head on the couch pillow but wrapped his arm around my shoulder bringing me closer so that I could rest my head on his shoulder and he pressed his forehead to mine, his nose brushing against mine every now and then.

I smiled as he kissed my nose before the two of us fell asleep, his arm protectively wrapped around me.

That next day, the boys were about 50% better as their skin had turned back to normal and the webbing between their fingers were gone.  By the second day, their claw-like nails were back down to normal size and their eyes were finally back to normal and slowly but surely their canine teeth were turning back to normal human teeth.

By Christmas eve morning, Queen was back to normal.  Since the guys didn’t have any time to rehearse they had to do a crash course of soundchecks and I helped them choose the right outfits that they should wear throughout the performance.

It was almost showtime and the boys were quickly getting ready in their dressing room.  I knocked at the door and I said peeking in but covering my eyes.

“Queen fan club party of three.”

“Come in darling we’re decent!” proclaimed Freddie. I along with River and the Doctor entered the dressing room and River said.

“Well you four look right as rain.”

“We feel better, thanks to you River.” Thanked Brian.

“You guys ready to kill it out there?” asked the Doctor.

“Honestly I’m worried we’ll screw it up.” Stated Deacy but I assured him.

“I don’t think so. Queen always puts on a good show, and I have a feeling you guys will kill it out there.”

“Five minutes till showtime boys.” Said one of the producers.

“We ready?” asked Brian.

“We good to go my darlings?” the boys nodded and they all filed out one by one.  I soon felt Roger pull me into a hug and he said.

“I’ll see you after, right?” I nodded and he pressed a kiss to my forehead and followed behind the guys.

“Well come on (y/n), let’s get you to your seat and let you see the concert you’ve been dying to see.” The Doctor said as he guided me towards the stage and there I saw a special RESERVED seat right in the front row at center stage.

“But there’s only one seat reserved.” I said.

“Well that’s the other part, we’re not joining you.” River said.  I looked at them confused.

“Y-you’re not? But don’t you guys want to see them?”

“Thank you for the offer love but we’ve seen Queen at their greatest achievements over 1000 times. Now it’s time you got to see a concert live, in person and by yourself.” Stated the Doctor.

“You sure?”

“Yes sweetie, don’t worry we’ll wait for you by the TARDIS out back.” I smiled and hugged them both.

“Thank you.” I whispered.

“Have fun (y/n).” River said.  The two of them nodded and they headed out of the stadium. Soon hordes of people came piling into the stadium getting their seats.  It sounded like a football stadium of people talking and soon the cameramen were coming out setting up their equipment to get ready for the broadcast.

Then at 8pm on the dot, the lights dimmed and everyone cheered excitedly as Bob Harris came up on stage dressed in that white tux and white top hat and greeted us.  He wished us a Merry Christmas and thanked us for coming and for the thousands of viewers watching at home for coming out and gave a brief introduction of the band that would soon come out.

“Ladies and gentlemen this is Queen!” the spotlight went off as he stepped off stage and we all cheered as the opening note to “Now I’m here” began playing on Brian’s red special.  I along with the audience clapped to the rhythm as soon a spotlight came on and Freddie’s silhouette came up and stood over us as he started the song off.

When the song picked up and the stage lights lite up to reveal Queen all together on stage rocking out, I tell you if I was just a normal member of the audience you’d never would’ve expected that just three days ago they were as sick as dogs.

And while seeing this concert as many times as I have on Youtube, it was nothing compared to seeing it live.  Watching Brian’s fingers move expertly along his guitar, seeing Deacy get groovy with his little dance moves, Freddie strutting the stage like he was born to, and Roger, my idol and surrogate brother rocking out on the drums it…..it’s an experience I will take to my grave.

The concert continued to go on and that’s when Freddie now in his new costume of that satin black leotard got the crowd to clap along and join in on singing the next song. We all clapped along as Roger led us in the beat and that’s when Brian played the chords to “Keep yourself alive”.

As I clapped along, I watched as Freddie locked eyes with me and pointed at me and sent a wink in my direction smiling widely before proclaiming into the mic.

“What about you in the balcony? Are you with us?! Everybody at home!” And then he began to start the song up.  I found myself bopping my head up and down as I sung along with Freddie and when the chorus came up, I could hear the audience around me join in the song.

When it came for Roger’s drum solo, I drummed against the stage floor copying his drum solo as I always have.  I couldn’t help but cheer out his name.  I didn’t care if people were staring at me, I just wanted to be sure that he heard that I was here and watching with admiration and pride. By the end of the song, we all cheered and Freddie said after he bowed.

“Thank you my beauties. Thank you. And now dedicated to a dear friend of ours a special Christmas rendition of her favorite song, a little number called…Liar!”

I felt my face burn in a blush of these boys mentioning me without saying my name.  As the crowd cheered and the lights darkened before illuminating green onto Roger as he began the cowbell opening of the song before going at it with the drums.

“Suck it to her Rog.” Freddie spoke into the mic. As the opening progressed with Brian’s guitar, Deacy’s bass and Freddie flaunting with the tambourine, I smiled and bobbed my head along with the opening.

When Freddie finally began singing I sung along with him.  God out of every live performance of this song that I’ve seen, this one was always my favorite and the fact that now they’ve dedicated this performance of Liar to me, it almost made me want to cry.

By the time Deacy’s solo came on, I cheered for him and called out his name as he continued to play his bass.  Then when he looked up as he slid his left hand along the handle finishing the solo, he looked right at me grinning and sent a wink my way and I gave him a thumbs up.  

I continued to sing along with the guys until the final rock out that ended the song came on, and once the song was over I clapped and cheered as loudly as I could.

When the encore portion of the concert began after ‘In the Lap of the gods revisited’, Roger now wore the clown hair wig and he said into the mic as bubbles started falling down from the sky.

“Ahh Merry Christmas and thanks for a fab year. We’ll do some rock and roll!” He then began playing the opening for ‘Big Spender’ and Brian who also had a costume change with the all black outfit and long white scar, Deacy wearing a yellow duckbill hat and a black diamond satin top but kept the white pants on, and Freddie coming out with the kimono on came out giving us a little strip tease as he sung the song.

By the chorus he had the kimono untied revealing those white shorts and the white top that he got in Soho, Japan.  After that the song turned to the big daddy of Rock and roll songs, “Jailhouse rock”.  I cheered as balloons started falling down from the ceiling.

I hit a red balloon into the air before a blue one came towards me and I hit it behind me letting someone else take a turn to hit it.  Freddie then allowed us to take over singing the song and I couldn’t help but cry the lyrics as loud as I could as I clapped along and bobbed my head along to the beat.

Once the concert was over (and surprise fact there were two more songs that the broadcast didn’t get but I got to witness them) and ‘God Save the Queen’ played over the speakers, the boys all joined together and walked further up along the stage about a foot away from the edge of the stage and waved goodbye to everyone and Fred wished all of us a Merry Christmas.

I clapped as I stared up at them like the gods they were and whistled as loud as I could.  It was then they turned towards me and Deacy took off his hat and walked up towards me before placing it on top of my head.  I smiled up at him and he smiled back giving me a wink before walking off the stage.

Brian then came up and draped his scarf over me before giving me that famed warm-hearted smile and walked off.  Roger then playfully placed the clown wig on top of Deacy’s hat before taking my hand and giving my knuckles a kiss.  He stood up and twirled his drumstick expertly between his fingers as he gave the audience a final farewell and it was then Freddie came up to me.

He knelt down before me and revealed a pink carnation and held it out for me to take.  I took it and he kissed both of my cheeks before bowing graciously one last time and heading backstage.

“Girl you are soo lucky to have all four of them see you like that. I wish that was me.” A woman to my right said.

“Yeah, guess I am lucky huh?”

After the concert I met River and the Doctor outside the TARDIS.  They were full of smiles and the Doctor asked me.

“Well, how did you like it?”

“Oh my god it was…..unlike anything I’ve ever seen! It was…..even more amazing to see it in person!”

“We’re glad you had a good time, and it would seem the boys gave you some attention ehh?” teased River gesturing to my accessories/gifts.  

I blushed and that’s when I heard the boys’ calling out for me.  I turned toward them before turning back to the time lords.

“We’ll give you a few minutes, but then we’ve got to get going.”

“Are you sure we can’t stay Doctor? Please?”

“I’m afraid not (y/n). We’ve already overstayed our welcome, it’s best we leave while we still can.” I nodded in understandment.

“I’ll say goodbye then.” I walked back towards the boys and when they saw me, they were full of smiles as Freddie was the first to twirl me around in a hug.

“Freddie, Freddie put me down!” I giggled.  He set me down and I said to them, “you guys killed it up there. Just like I knew you four would.”

“Well that’s because we knew you were out there watching us.” Freddie praised.

“So lovie, care to join us for a little Christmas eve afterparty? Just the five of us?” asked Roger.  At that point I grew solemn.

“What is it (y/n)?” asked Deacy concerned.

“I—I wish I could but….I have to go home.” At that statement, the boys knew what I was meaning.

“Are you sure we can’t tempt you to stay here? With us? You could have a life here. We’d give you a job as our new assistant. You could live with me till you found a place of your own.” Roger said as he came up to me and held my hands in his.

“As much as I would love that. And I’m gonna kick myself for saying this but I can’t. I—I don’t belong in this time, plus when I am born in like 30 years from now, having already existed it just—pulls some sort of alternate reality. I can’t really explain it.”

“But I do.” Brian spoke.  I grinned at him.

“Of course you would Dr. May.”

“Are you sure you can’t even stay for just a little bit longer? I don’t wanna let you go so soon darling.” Freddie said.

“Sorry Fred, as much as I would I can’t.”  He nodded sadly and that’s when Deacy asked.

“Will we ever see you again?” I looked at all of them to see sadness in their eyes.  I wish I could tell them the real truth, especially to Freddie but the Doctor always warned me about tampering with history.

“Yeah. If you four are ever walking the streets of North London, don’t be afraid to walk up and say hello.” They all smiled at me softly and Freddie was the first to hug me goodbye.

“Goodbye our heroic warrior of the future.” I hugged him as tight as I could knowing that this would be the last time I would ever get a Freddie hug.

“Bye Fred, you’re gonna do such great things. You and your brothers will take Queen far and wide for generations to come.”

“I’ll dedicate every performance to you darling.” We separated and he kissed each of my cheeks one last time.  Brian was the next one to come up to me and he wrapped his arms around me.

“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for us (y/n).” he said.

“It was an honor to meet you Bri, please never change space man.”

“Never love, I promise.” He gently stroked down my hair before giving me a kiss to my forehead and then my attention turned to Deacy. He grinned at me before opening his arms and I hugged him back.

“Good luck with everything Deacy. And never doubt yourself. You are such an important member to Queen no matter what anyone says.”

“Thank you poppet. That means a lot to me. It was great meeting you.”

“Believe me the honor is mine.” He gingerly bopped my nose and that’s when my attention turned to the last member of the band. Roger came up to me and before I could even say a word, he hugged me so tightly I thought I was going to burst.

“I wish you could stay lovie.”

“Me too, believe me Rog. You—won’t forget me, right?”

“Darling it’s impossible to forget someone like you.” He cupped both sides of my face and began peppering kisses all over my face making me giggle.  With one final kiss to my nose he vowed. “I promise, I’ll find you one day.”

“I’m holding you to that.” He smiled and kissed my forehead and that’s when the TARDIS door opened and I walked towards her and got inside.  I turned to the boys one last time and they waved goodbye.

I smiled sadly and allowed a tear to fall from my face and I waved goodbye before entering the TARDIS and as the doors closed, she made that wheezing, groaning sound before disappearing before Queen’s eyes.

Back in 2019; it was the day after Christmas and I was walking along the streets getting some food for my nana.  While I was walking I suddenly bumped into someone and our stuff ended up on the ground.

“Shit sorry I—I wasn’t……”

“Seems we can’t stop meeting like this, can we lovie?” Oh my god. It—it can’t be……I looked up and saw him.  He was an old man now with just a tuff of hair now and a full beard that made him look like Colonel Sanders from the KFC, but I knew those eyes anywhere.  

“Roger.” I sighed happily.

“I told you I would find you love.” He said as he extended his hand out to me.  I smiled and took his hand as he helped me stand up. “I know I don’t look the same as you saw me before but—”

“Oh shut up you old coot and hug me.” He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me.  I felt him stroke down my hair and him placing a kiss on top of my head. “We’ve got so much to catch up on.”

“I’ve got all day.” And that’s exactly what we did. Spending the day together chatting like old friends, siblings even that have been reunited with each other after so long.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Whispers Among Roses

by starryeyeddreamerr You knew a thing or two about love and you promised to show the deacon Dick Grayson every single thing you think you know. (or after being sent to the nunnery with a broken heart, you fall for Dick Grayson over time) I don't really know I haven't planned really far ahead just read it, please. I promise its good. Words: 2794, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Teen Titans (Animated Series), Nightwing (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Categories: F/M Characters: Dick Grayson, John Constantine, Reader, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne Relationships: John Constantine/Reader, Dick Grayson/You, Dick Grayson/Reader Additional Tags: Underage Kissing, Teacher-Student Relationship, Alternate Universe - Regency, getting sent to the nunnery, John Constantine Has Issues, John Constantine is a teacher, Priest Dick Grayson, Dick x reader should be the main relationship, I messed up and made the constantine really interesting he was supposed to be a minor character, priest x nun, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'll add more tags, Naive Reader, First Kiss, First Love, First Time via https://ift.tt/vX8d1Jg

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Whispers Among Roses

by starryeyeddreamerr You knew a thing or two about love and you promised to show the deacon Dick Grayson every single thing you think you know. (or after being sent to the nunnery with a broken heart, you fall for Dick Grayson over time) I don't really know I haven't planned really far ahead just read it, please. I promise its good. Words: 2794, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Teen Titans (Animated Series), Nightwing (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Categories: F/M Characters: Dick Grayson, John Constantine, Reader, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne Relationships: John Constantine/Reader, Dick Grayson/You, Dick Grayson/Reader Additional Tags: Underage Kissing, Teacher-Student Relationship, Alternate Universe - Regency, getting sent to the nunnery, John Constantine Has Issues, John Constantine is a teacher, Priest Dick Grayson, Dick x reader should be the main relationship, I messed up and made the constantine really interesting he was supposed to be a minor character, priest x nun, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'll add more tags, Naive Reader, First Kiss, First Love, First Time via https://ift.tt/RADLbZN

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Time travel rescue crossover fic; 11th Doctor x teen reader ft. Queen

*Author’s note*

Well guys this is it. After tomorrow I will be HOME FREE OF SCHOOL AND THEN GRADUATE AND LEAVE COLLEGE FOREVER NEXT THURS. So now that I FINALLY completed my assignments save for my final tomorrow, I can finally start posting some more stuff up. Now this series came from a wattpad request, and not only that but I’ve seen several time travel fic regarding Queen but this one is a little different, welcome to my 2nd crossover series and this one is based around.

DOCTOR WHO!!!  Yep and as mentioned in the title it takes place during the 11th gen. of the Raggedy Doctor. So in this fic it’s the ACTUAL band Queen, not the BoRhap boys being Queen. So some facts I’m pulling based off people posting facts through here and some knowledge I began to find myself. I hope you all enjoy the first few chapters of this series and give it a shot :) Happy reading the next few parts I’ve got. And if you’d like to be tagged in this series, just leave a comment below.

Taglist (this series open):

@psychosupernatural​

@plethora-of-things​

@ixchel-9275​

@waddles03​

@platawnic​

@bensrhapsody​

@geek-and-proud​

@queendeakyy​

@kairosfreddie​

_______________________________________________________

*December 20th, 2019*

I was riding my bike through the streets of London which was packed with Christmas decorations.  Everyone scrambling around trying to do last minute shopping, I however had a different agenda.  I was going to meet a friend of mine that I promised I would meet.

I arrived off the corner of Kensington street and there I saw the famed blue police box.  I parked my bike just across from it and looked around to make sure no one was watching or coming towards this direction before finally hopping on in.

And once I stepped inside, I found myself in a place that looked bigger on the inside.  For you see this wasn’t any ordinary police box, this was the TARDIS, a time machine in English that was owned by none other than…..

“Ahh so good to see you’ve arrived on time (y/n).” Well speak of the devil.

“Don’t I always when it comes to you?” I said as I walked towards the raggedy old fool and hugged him.  A man known as The Doctor.

“How’s your nan doing?”

“She’s better.”

“I know she is, now that she don’t have to worry about you hanging around with those no gooders. Aren’t you glad I found you when I did?” To make a long story short, after both my parents were thrown in prison on various charges, my nana was the only legal guardian to take care of me.

Well by the time I reached 13, I was starting to follow down the same path as my parents.  A life of petty crime, mostly gang banging and some drugs.  That was until the Doctor came into my life when I was turned 14.  After a few time adventures with him, it got me to see that life really is too short.  So I left the gang life and tried to make things up with my nana and I’ve been clean and good for 2 years now.

It’s hard I’ll admit, especially trying to get away from the violence that I had been known in my gang.  Back with them they called me the ‘Tigress’ cause I showed no mercy when it comes to fighting, I could literally become a savage animal at the snap of a finger.

We hugged each other and he said.

“So what shall it be today?”

“Well…..” I pulled out my phone and opened up my Youtube playlist and went to the first channel that was labeled QUEEN concerts and I clicked the first link.  “Could I maybe tempt you into taking me back to a Queen concert? Specifically their Christmas Eve concert they did after the release of a Night at the Opera in 1975. I think next to the Live Aid performance, that’s my favorite concert of theirs.”

“Well as I once said I didn’t ever want to tamper with actual history. But it’s Christmas, the time for miracles. Maybe I could overlook this just once. Plus who could refuse a Queen concert?”

“Apparently most kids my age.”

“Alright so Christmas week 1975.” The Doctor went over to the control and flipped some switches and soon we were off.

However as we were traveling through time and space, there was a sudden jolt.  The lights flickered and I was knocked over towards the railing.

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know. We shouldn’t have hit something.” He activated a few buttons and turned on the monitors.  The look on his face turned pale with horror.

“What is it Doctor?”

“We picked up a straggler.” The TARDIS jolted again.

“Is there any way to shake it off? I mean what exactly has us?”

“I’m still trying to read into it’s vital signs but it’s cloaked itself good, even from this old girl.” Suddenly the doors opened and soon coming in was this figure.

It sorta looked human as it did have a human form but it’s skin was like a dolphin or a sharks, it had long claw-like nails with webbing between each finger.  It hissed at us and the Doctor quickly improvised and directed the TARDIS in a sudden right jolt.

The creature went towards the wall but it kept its eyes locked right on us.

“Doctor the doors!” I cried out.  He looked towards the doors to still see them open.

“Hang on and don’t let go whatever you do! Just hang on tight to the railing!” I nodded and he tried as best as he could through the wind of the time vortex we were still spinning through.  I kept my eyes on the Doctor unaware that the creature was slowly crawling up towards me.

Suddenly I felt this painful grip on my forearm and slowly claw down it.  I let out a cry and I turned to see the creature standing right before me.  It hissed at me revealing razor sharp teeth, it’s black soulless eyes staring deeply into mine.

“Doctor!” I cried out.  Then without warning, the creature dug its claws into the back of my hands and pushed me outward forcing me to fly out of the TARDIS, barely hearing the Doctor calling out my name.  Then I guess I must’ve blacked out because I couldn’t remember anything after that.

When I finally came back around, the first thing I felt was cold and something wet.  When I slowly opened my eyes, I saw nothing but white powder in front of me, as well as flakes falling onto my face.

Slowly I got up and found myself in London, or at least I hoped it was.

“Doctor? Doctor!?” I called out.  I looked down at my hands to see they had indented claw marks and were bleeding.  As a wind chill blew across me, I began shivering and I walked out of the alleyway to see people walking along the streets with shopping bags.

‘Okay so I know I’m on Earth, or at least I think I am. But when exactly am I?’ I thought to myself.  I thought if I kept walking then maybe I could find a store or something to shed some light on where and when I am.

I walked along and I could see Big Ben as well as the London eye, okay so I am in London. And based on the fashion choices that I saw people walk by in, I could be in the 70’s.  Finally I reached a newspaper stand and I quickly grabbed a newspaper and read the date.

December 19th, 1975.  Okay so I was one day and 44 years into the past, thank god for that at least.  I mean I could’ve landed somewhere far worse.  But what happened to the Doctor? And just what was that thing that attacked us? As I went to turn around I bumped into someone.

“Sorry I—I was looking where I was…..”

“No problem love, it was an accident.” That voice it—it couldn’t be.  I looked up and the first thing I see are those entrancing blue eyes and long golden hair that shined like the sun.

“You’re—you’re……” I was completely starstruck because standing right before me was none other than Roger Taylor.

“Roger Taylor? Yes, I’m going to assume you’re a fan of Queen?” I softly nodded.  Oh my god I can’t believe that I’m standing in front of the Roger Taylor.

I mean—it was because of him I became interested in the drums.  Shortly after I left the gang life behind; since I had always been a Queen fan since childhood, my nana bought me my first ever drumkit after my six months of being clean of the violent outbursts.  She thought I could do have a better outlook banging the drums instead of banging with another gang.

His style of drumming has always fascinated me and sometimes I would try to copy some of his solos as best I could, and I’ll say that I’m a pretty decent drummer but I’ll never be up to his level of drumming.

“Well since you seem to know my name, may I know yours?”

“Uhh (y)—(y/n).”

“It’s nice to meet you (y/n).” he held out his hand for me to take.  I was nervous to take his hand but I didn’t want him to think that I was a bitch. Hopefully the bleeding has stopped, so I reached out and I took his hand.  Unfortunately he immediately noticed the blood.  “(Y/n)….what happened to your hand?”

“Oh well I—I was…..a cat scratched me.”

“These don’t look like any cat scratches I know. And believe me Freddie has over 7 and I’ve been scratched by almost all of them at some point in time.” He then tucked some hair away from my face and he continued, “Be honest love, I won’t judge you but I need to know. Did—did some arsehole…..assault you?” Well to a degree but not in the way he was implying, but how do you tell your idol that? So to kinda put him at ease I whipped up a quick excuse.

“Well…..I—they just came out of nowhere…. I-I-I tried to stop them but they…..”

“Ohh you poor thing,” he cooed as he gently embraced me.  “Come with me. I can help heal those scratches and make you a warm cuppa, eh?” I nodded and he then guided me towards the Hammersmith Odeon.

When we got there, I’ll be honest that I couldn’t believe that I was in the actual Hammersmith Odeon theater.  Cause back—well forward in my time it’s called the Hammersmith Apollo and it’s mostly shown dance acts, and live performances for comedians.

“First aid’s in the dressing room. That’s the last known place I know it was at when Fred was dealing with some blisters the other day.” He guided me towards backstage and I saw dozens of roadies and other volunteers and workers getting ready for sound checks, probably for a rehearsal.  “Here we are.”

Roger opened the door and guided me inside. Already I saw four sections of the big dressing room where each band member got ready.  I saw from the photo of Veronica holding baby Robert that the section I was standing near was Deacy’s corner.

Just ahead where the red special was and what appeared to be an astronomy book was Brian’s place.  And of course the one where dozens of cat pictures along with the beautiful Mary Austin’s picture was Freddie’s.

“Okay let’s see; first aid, first aid, first aid.” Roger muttered as he went through Freddie’s side.  Lifting up various music sheets, journals and drawers. “Damnit Fred where the bloody hell did you put it—Ah-ha there you are!” He then pulled out an old school style first aid kit. “Right have a seat over here love.”

“I—I don’t know. I mean am I even allowed to be in here?”

“No not really but this is an emergency. So come on, sit. I don’t bite.” Cautiously I walked further in the dressing room and sat down in Freddie’s seat. “Okay let’s see here, we’ll need antiseptic cream, and…bandages.”  He took out the cream first and he told me to show him my hands.

He then began to doctor up both my hands, but just before he put the first aid kit away, he noticed that my right sleeve was stained with blood.  He carefully rolled it up and that’s when I saw the four long scratches that went from just an inch or two below my elbow to my wrist.

“Oh my god love. I—I’ve never seen a weapon do something like this, what did they use?”

“I—I couldn’t see what it was. Is it bad?”

“I don’t think so. But let me go a bowl of water, and a couple of towels to see what we’re dealing with here. Blood always makes things seem worse than what they are. Just stay here for a moment okay?” I nodded and he smiled at me before exiting the dressing room.

Once he came back with items, he set them down on the table and gently guided my arm over the bowl and dipped one of the towel into the water.  He wrung it out and slowly began dabbing away the blood.  I hissed on occasion and with each hissed, he apologized.  Once the blood was cleared away, he dabbed the dry towel over my wet forearm before carefully observing it.

“Well they don’t look too deep for stitches, otherwise we’d need to call the hospital.”

“Yeah, thank god.” I was grateful for that because I won’t even be born until 30 years from now so there’s no way any hospital would have my records.

“Hey (y/n), if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly happened?”

“It—it’s honestly a blur to me Roger. I was—just minding my business with a friend of mine then next thing I knew we got jumped and….oh shit my friend he….he doesn’t know where I am! I-I have to find him!”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey (y/n), (y/n) calm down. Deep breaths for me.” He gently calmed me down and got me to take a few deep breaths. Man, who would’ve thought the Roger Taylor would be the one comforting me during a freak out episode.

“Sorry.” I muttered.

“No, no don’t apologize at all. Look let’s get you healed up first, and then we can think about finding your friend, alright?” I nodded and he said as he gently cupped the side of my face and gingerly thumbed across my cheek “Atta girl.”  Suddenly the door opened and a voice said.

“Whoa were we interrupting anything here my darlings?” Oh my god—no way. It was him, it was really him.  Freddie Fucking Mercury. Vibrant and young Freddie Mercury. Alongside him I saw Brian May to his left and John Deacon was to the right.

“No not at all guys.”

“Whose this?” asked Brian.

“This is (y/n). I found her—well actually she ran into me while I was at the newsstand. Shortly after she got jumped by some thugs.”

“Oh you poor darling!” Freddie cooed as he raced up towards me. “Who were the bastards that did this to you? You give me descriptions and I’ll fucking murder them!”

Aww, I can’t believe that after just meeting me not even 10 seconds, Freddie’s already wanting to defend my honor and beat up the fake thugs that did this to me.  All those interviews of people calling Freddie nice, seeing it with my own eyes, they weren’t even close to describing Freddie’s kindness and loyalty.

“It’s alright Freddie, there’s no need for you to go to jail for assault.”

“Well fuck that! Anyone who gangs up on a girl like that deserves to have their arses beaten.” Can’t argue with him on that. Suddenly I felt the stinging sensation of the antiseptic cream go onto my scratches.

“Sorry love.” Roger apologized.

“It’s—alright.”

“Roger give the girl fair warning next time!” Freddie exclaimed.

“Would you like anything to drink (y/n)? Water? Tea?” asked Deacy.

“Well Roger was gonna offer me a warm cuppa.”

“How about a hot chocolate instead. After a night that you had, why not take something a little warmer. Plus nothing cures trauma better than chocolate.” Deacy offered.

“Okay, I can go for a hot chocolate.”

“Coming right up.”

“Lucky duckie. Deacy dear makes the best cup of hot chocolate ever.” Freddie told me.

“Sneaky bastard won’t let us in on how he makes it!” Roger called out.

“Because you lot don’t deserve to know!” Deacy called back as he peeked back in the room before heading back down the hallway to make my hot chocolate.

“Right, time for the bandages.” Roger said.

“Here Rog, I’ll take care of that.” Brian stepped forward and took over the doctoring.  My god if you had told me three years ago that I would be getting doctored by Brian May and Roger Taylor, be served hot chocolate handmade by John Deacon and having Freddie Mercury rub your back comfortingly as your being doctored by the.

I would’ve told you, you were crazy.

As Brian began wrapping my arm up, he looked up at me and asked.

“Too tight?”

“No, no it’s fine.” I assured him.  He softly smiled and kept wrapping my arm up till it covered up the last of my scratches.

“There all done.”

“Thank you Brian.”

“You’re welcome (y/n).” he said with that warm smile of his.  It was then Deacy came walking in with a cup of hot chocolate.

“Here you go (y/n), I just took it out of the microwave so be careful.” I took the cup between my hands and allowed the hot mug to warm up my cold, numbing hands.  I blew on it before taking a light sip.

Holy shit the guys weren’t kidding. I mean at first my nana’s hot chocolate was always the best but now I’m starting to think Deacy’s overpowers my nana’s special recipe.

“Oh my god, this is so good.”

“Glad you like it dear.”

“I mean—I think you just kicked my nana’s famed recipe out the window.”

“Well I mean no disrespect to your nana.” Deacy said apologetically.

“No, no, no hell if she were here, she’d be wanting to get your recipe herself.” Deacy smiled that sweet, eye crinkled smile as he softly chuckled.

“Not only the best bass player we could find but also the best hot chocolate maker we could ask for.” Freddie praised as he placed an arm around Deacy’s neck.  Aww my god I can’t believe I’m witnessing firsthand of the bond these two shared. No wonder why Deacy left after Freddie died.

“Oh stop it you old tart.”

“Ahh Brian! Deacy’s using those dirty words again!” Freddie whined out.

“Hey lads, the manager’s closing up the stadium for the night if you all are done for the night.” Queen’s future manager Jim Beach came into the dressing room.

“Thank you Miami.” Freddie said.

“Do you have a place to stay tonight (y/n)?” asked Brian.

“Uhh well I—”

“Yes. As we were on our way here I told her that she could stay with me for tonight. Just in case those thugs try and find her again.” Roger spoke as he wrapped an arm around me.  I looked to Roger and he looked down at me assuringly and winked at me.

“Well then let’s get a move on. I’d rather not be locked up in here over night.” Deacy said.

“Well said Deacy. Not like back in Atlanta eh?” Freddie teased.

“I thought we vowed to never talk about that!” Deacy snapped.  As the guys walked on ahead, Roger and I lagged behind and I asked him.

“You sure it’s okay for me to stay with you?”

“Yeah. I’ve got an extra bed in my room. Plus I don’t want you to be out in the streets in the middle of winter.”

“Thanks Roger. But what will I do about clothes?”

“I’ll let you borrow some small clothes as pajamas for tonight. Then tomorrow Freddie and I can help you shop for some clothes. Maybe we can also find that friend of yours.” I smiled softly and said.

“I—don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing, c’mon let’s get back to the hotel and into bed. You’ve had a long night and look like you could use some rest.” We then got into the car and the driver drove the five of us back to the hotel. Roger guided me towards his room and using his key, he allowed me in first.

It was a pretty big sized room with two beds as he said, a small telly and a closet.  Roger went inside and muttered to himself before finally pulling out a plain black t-shirt and some sweats.

“Here, these are too small for me, hopefully they’ll do you some good. The loo’s just over there.” He pointed towards the jointed room beside the bed farthest from the window.  I walked inside of it and changed out of my clothes and into Roger’s old stuff.

The pants were obviously a little too long but the shirt fit snug around me.  I then went over to the mirror and looked down at my bandaged arm.

“Oh Doctor, I hope you’re alright. Where—whenever you are.” I don’t know what that thing was that attacked but I prayed that he was alright and somehow managed to lose it.

“(Y/n)? You okay in there?” I heard Roger’s voice say.

“Yeah, yeah Roger I’m good.” I then stepped out of the loo and Roger looked me over.

“Not bad, I’ll give the pants a trim so that they’re not dragging across the floor tomorrow. Then tomorrow when Freddie and I take you out, we’ll get you some clothes that will fit you.”

“Do you think he’ll want to join us?” I asked

“Absolutely. Besides he looks for any excuse to shop and he’s better at picking clothes than me. I just pick what matches based off of fabric, damn eyesight.”  That I did know for a fact.  But I chose to act like I didn’t know that fact.

“Thanks again for all that you’ve done for me tonight.”

“Again love, no thanks are necessary. I just hope your friend didn’t get into the squabble you were in.”

“I hope so too.” I muttered before letting out a long yawn.  Roger softly chuckled.

“It’s getting late, why don’t you get some sleep?” I nodded and walked over to the bed that was closest to the radiator.  I tucked myself in and almost immediately fell asleep on the old, lumpy mattress.

*Roger’s POV*

Even though she had taken my bed next to the radiator, I didn’t have the heart to move her.  After the night she’s been through, she deserved to have as much comfort as possible.  

After taking my nightly shower and changing into my pajamas I looked over at (y/n) hoping that we would find her friend in good health, cause if (y/n) managed to get away with scratches like those, then I pray her friend’s not worse.