#no offense but i want joe to pull my hair and forcefully open mouth kiss me with sweaty jiddies

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

Joe heatedly kissing a fan mid-song in 2006

(EARRAPE WARNING ON THE VIDEO)

[stillbandofbrothersthirsty]

Ok, something fun, maybe a brawl in there over the lady - 9 & B & liebgott

Oo I lovveee this combo!! & this was the perfect one-shot for me to throw in some zaddy Welsh 😏

“What the hell’s he doing?” Joe Liebgott slammed his glass down in frustration.

“Hey, Lieb, relax,” Moe Alley said.

Liebgott shook his head then quickly picked his glass back up for another drink. He knew he shouldn’t be so upset, but his blood was boiling. This idiot was being so disrespectful. Liebgott knew he should probably look away, but his eyes were glued on the I company soldier who had walked in with Grace but whose hands were all over some other dame.

Joe had his own fair share of problems with Grace. Sure, maybe he wasn’t one to talk. But when he had been with her, she was all he could see. She deserved more than a guy who hardly noticed her.

Liebgott scanned the room to see if Grace was noticing what he was. He hoped she saw how foolish this guy was acting when she wasn’t around. But the second he spotted her, all the anger melted away from Liebgott's heart.

She wore her favorite blue dress the twirled at the bottom when she danced. It was the same one she had been wearing when they had first met. Liebgott felt a pang in his heart at the thought of her getting dressed up just to go out with a guy who hardly gave her a second look.

She was so beautiful and effortlessly elegant. Grace’s hair shone under the band lights as Skinny Sisk spun her around on the dance floor. She laughed as she whirled in and out of his arms in time to the music. At one point, Liebgott had been jealous of that relationship; until he realized she and Skinny were childhood friends, but not before he picked a fight over it. He had a bad habit of starting fights over nothing.


Liebgott watched as the song ended and Skinny released Grace back into the crowd. His dark eyes tracked her through the room with a sensation of dread. He knew what she would inevitably find when she found her date; a drifting eye and a dangerously placed hand.

Liebgott forced himself to look away. He didn’t want to see her get hurt.

“Anyone need another drink?” Liebgott barely waited for his friends to respond before he turned to the bar. “Three beers,” he held up his fingers to the bartender. “And uh, actually get me a shot of whiskey too will ya,” he added.

Liebgott winced as he threw back the foul liquid. He paid, collected the beers and returned to the cocktail table where his friends stood chatting and generally enjoying themselves.

“Thanks,” Tipper took a sip from the new drink. Liebgott tried to jump in on their conversation but he was far too distracted. It took all of his concentration to not look over at Grace and her soldier. He focused his gaze on a knot in the wood of the table and took a sip of his drink. He began to feel the whiskey's heat enter his blood stream. Alley was saying something about one of their shooting exercises at the range the other day but Liebgott couldn't bring himself to pa attention. Finally, he couldn’t bear it any longer, the temptation was too great. He looked up and saw Grace animatedly gesturing at the soldier in anger. Liebgott couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“What d’ya think is going on over there?” Liebgott asked no one in particular. He watched as the soldier said something that made Grace cross her arms. After a beat, she began speaking angrily again and the soldier waved his hand dismissively at her.

“You gonna go do something about that?” Liebgott gestured to Grace as Skinny approached their table.

Skinny blew out his cheeks and exhaled, “oh uh, you know Grace, she can handle herself.”

Liebgott shook his head. He felt helpless just standing there watching what was clearly an unfair argument. “We gotta go say something.”

“Lieb, give it a rest,” Alley said from beside him.

“She’s none of your business anymore,” Tipper added.

His friends had lost patience with him the last couple of weeks. He and Grace had broken up for the third time, thanks to him and his temper of course, and everyone was done hearing about it. Liebgott knew he had fucked up, again. But no one knew Grace like he did. No one could appreciate her like he did. He would have her back in a heartbeat if she ever gave him the chance.

Liebgott’s lip curled up in disgust as he watched the soldier lean in to kiss her. Grace pushed him back forcefully with an angry look. The grabbed her arm forcefully and that was the last straw for Liebgott.

“That’s it, I’m going over there.”

“Joe! No!” Tipper and Alley grabbed for Liebgott but he was already gone.

Liebgott sidled up to the soldier, “everything okay here?”

“Joe,” Grace said in a warning tone. Liebgott glanced down and saw the desperation in her glassy eyes.

“Who're you?” the soldier demanded.

“Who are you?” Liebgott shot back, “messin’ with my friend?”

“Look buddy,” the soldier sneered, “I’m not in the mood, get out of here.”

“No,” Liebgott took a threatening step towards the man, “I wanna know what you’re saying to Grace here.”

“Step back,” the soldier gave Liebgott a little shove, “have some manners in front of the lady.”

“Oh man,” Tipper said from where he, Alley and Sisk stood watching it all go down.

“Okay,” Sisk said.

“Time to go,” Alley and the others jumped towards Liebgott in anticipation of what was about to go down.

Liebgott barked out a humorless laugh, “Ha, me? Have some manners? What about you buddy! Touchin' a woman like that!” And he lunged at the guy.

Their area of the bar exploded with action.

“Joe!” Grace’s high pitch voice sounded over the noise of men struggling. At first, the soldiers' respective friends tried to pull them apart until a rogue fist collided with Alley’s jaw and then he was swinging too. Suddenly, soldiers from I and E company were hopping in to defend their buddies who got pulled into the fight. Until finally a voice roared over the crowd, “break it the fuck up!” Harry Welsh’s voice startled the men enough that they lost all of their momentum. Bull Randleman and Bill Guarnere began pulling people off of each other.

“Hey, hey!” Guarnere shouted at a foolish I-company soldier who stepped towards Joe Toye again. Welsh shot the private a freezing glare.

“Get the hell out of here, Joe,” Welsh commanded.

“But lieutenant-,” Liebgott protested. But the lean Irishman was stronger than he appeared. He grabbed Liebgott by the scruff of the neck and dragged him towards the exit. “Go cool off.” Welsh threw him out into the chilly night air.


Liebgott groaned in frustration and kicked the side of the building as the door slammed behind him.

“Watch it,” some guy smoking a cigarette frowned at him. The guy flicked his cigarette to the ground and with a disgruntled look directed at Liebgott led the woman he was with back inside.

Liebgott paced in circles, his blood pumping in his ears. He pulled a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and lit it. After a few deep inhales he finally began to calm down. His heart rate slowed as he focused on the burning tip of the cigarette that glowed orange in the darkness.

The bar entrance opened behind him. Briefly, the night was filled with the sounds of revelry before the door closed again.

“Joe,” Grace’s voice made him turn. She stood with her arms crossed, her head tilted in disapproval.

“What?” Liebgott snapped, “quit lookin’ at me like that,” he spat on the ground. Blood from his busted lip replaced the taste of tobacco in his mouth with iron.

“That was pretty embarrassing for you,” Grace said with a hint of humor.

Liebgott scowled at her. She smiled crookedly back at him, unintimidated. Liebgott shook his head. He tried to maintain his offense but faced with her smile, he quickly relented. He chuckled and kicked at the ground, “yeah, maybe not my best moment.”

She walked over to him and plucked the cigarette from his fingers. He watched as she brought the cigarette up to her perfect red lips and took a long drag. She propped an elbow on her hip, letting her wrist dangle gracefully as the smoke from the burning paper spiraled up and into the dark. “What got into you?” she asked.

Liebgott sighed, “I just, I couldn’t stand watching him flirt with another dame when you were right there.”

Grace bit her lip. Liebgott sniffed, “you deserve someone who thinks you’re the only girl worth lookin’ at,” he shrugged.

“Joe,” she said in a low voice. His cigarette had nearly burnt out in her hand.

“I know, I know,” he mumbled. They had been here before; this familiar place that teetered between so much potential goodness and the mess that had just occurred. Somehow it never seemed to work out between them and not for lack of effort.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she whispered.

“Nothing,” he muttered. But his eyes said something else and his hand slipped onto her hip.

“Joe,” her eyelids hung heavy and she licked her lips. The air grew heavy between them and Liebgott felt her step closer to him.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered. She didn’t. And so he pulled her into him and she tangled her hands in his hair just like she always did. Her lips were soft and warm and exactly how he remembered them. With his arms wrapped around her, Liebgott thought for the thousandth time, that he had to find a way to make her his forever.

[ok-anon]

How Did It End Up Like This? (”Mr. Brightside” Roger Taylor x Reader) Final Chapter

PLEASE REBLOG AND LEAVE COMMENTS, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH IT HELPS. ALSO REQUEST BOX IS OPEN

a/n: I’M SO SORRY FOR BEING ABSENT FOR SO LONG. ALSO I FEEL LIKE THIS ENDING IS TRASH, I JUST DIDN’T PLAN ON THIS BEING SUPER LONG. I AM THINKING ABOUT WRITING OTHER STUFF  (maybe a joe/deaky piece) AFTER THIS, LEMME KNOW WHAT Y’ALL THINK.

this is a submission for @yourealegendfred ‘s 3k songfic challenge (congrats love, you fricken deserve it) and i’ve worked for a bit on it. even if you’re not a Queen/Bohrap fan, maybe give it a shot? this fic could be for both universes. also THIS IS A SERIES and if y’all like it, let me know so I can continue it! thank you all so much, i love you all

pairing: roger taylor x reader

word count: 1.5k

Fuck who ever was banging on his door at this hour. They were seconds away from getting a drumstick jammed up their backside. Roger’s head throbbed as he pulled himself into a sitting position. Bleary eyes landed on the naked figure curled on the other side of his bed, and he scowled. One night stands never felt like a good idea in the morning. Tossing his legs over the edge of the mattress, he pulled on his abandoned briefs to regain his modesty before shuffling to the relentless pounding.

“Fuckin’ heard you the first time mate…” he groaned as he yanked the door open, only to feel his insides twist. 

There she stood, in her familiar professional wear and she looked breathtaking. Drinking in her appearance was halted instantly when Roger locked eyes with her fearful gaze. He then noticed the photos in her hands. They were pictures from last night, and the smirk that crossed his lips made her expression go aghast. But he couldn’t help it. They were delicious. Her wanton body moulded completely against his own as he gripped her like she was about to be tugged away. His grin left instantly when she shoved the thin film forcefully against his chest.

“What the hell do we do about this?” His hand clasped over hers that was pressing the offensive images against his skin.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” His morning voice scratched his raw throat and he ached for a cup of tea in bed...preferably with her snuggled up beside him. But not right now, not when she was cross with him.

“John Reid...your manager, ran these by me this morning. Some prick took them last night and is threatening to release them to the press.” 

Roger wondered if it was incredibly rude that none of the words she was saying meant shit to him, because he was much more preoccupied with admiring the way her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked. His distraction was interrupted as she brushed past him into his room, her voice lessening in strength. 

“He’s demanding a fuck ton of money, Taylor. And he’ll probably hold on to the negatives, sell them after we’ve settled…all over a stupid...kiss...” Her eyes trained on the moving form tangled in sheets across the room as she trailed off. The oblivious third party slowly pulled on her garment from the night before. Painful silence filled the air as a short dress was dragged up long tan legs. After slipping into towering stilettos, she effortlessly waltzed across the floor to place an open mouthed kiss to Roger’s grimacing face.

“Don’t be a stranger…” she cooed, shooting a glance of indifference towards the other female before exiting. The drummer’s heartbeat mimicked that of his instrument as tension deafened the room. He opened his mouth, preparing to charm his way out of the situation.

“Drop it.” The woman standing across from him locked their gaze with fierce intensity. “Listen, I know that you are perfectly fine with acting upon impulses not considering their consequences, but while you’ll forget about last night, I have a boyfriend...a career! And now I’ll just be known as another one of your one night stands.” 

She gestured wildly towards the door which her example had just departed. She couldn’t continue to look at him partially out of disgust, but mainly out of the fear that she’d be met with the apathetic glare she had always seen Roger’s heartbroken girls receive. She had denied, no refused, her feelings for the drummer ever since he’d taken to giving her attention. She knew nothing good could come from falling in love with a rockstar who had a wandering eye. And although her job wasn’t under a strict contract, Reid banging on her hotel door that morning was evidence enough that fooling around was not acceptable. And protecting her heart. Dating Jonathan was safe. He was a promise of security and faithfulness, no matter how terribly dull he was. Roger was irresponsible. He was egotistical. He was temperamental...He was kissing her. When did he start kissing her? 

She was so enraptured in her racing thoughts she wasn’t coherent to the blonde’s fingers wrapping firmly around her wrist. Her lack of resistance made it effortless to tug her flush against his warm chest. Like magnets, his mouth found hers in a kiss very different than their first. 

They were sober, they were alone, and he had things to prove. That last night was something he was never going to forget. That her touch is the only one he ever wanted to feel. That he wanted to be stripping her dress off at the end of the night, not off some random fan. That nothing made him more sick to his stomach than imagining her being kissed, embraced, adored by some other man. And that he was so terribly sorry that it took his ardent jealousy to open his eyes. 

That he wanted her. 

His brows cinched tightly together as his palms flat against her back pressed her hopelessly closer. Her lips pulling away from his caused one of his hands to shoot up and clutch the side of her cheek, keeping her in place. Her breath washed over his chin in warm huffs as his eyelids trembled open. She still wasn’t looking at him, her gaze cast downward as she quietly drew in air.  

“...’m sorry...” his faint hearted tone caught the photographer off guard as her eyes locked on his. Their shade of blue could teach the sky a thing or two she thought, now that she was able to admire them at proximity. The calloused pad of his thumb separated a small lock of hair framing her face, allowing it to wrap around his worn skin.

“I...Jonathan-”

“Don’t say his name. I don’t want you to say his name.” Roger’s grip tightened ever so slightly, as if only the mention of the other male would rip her from his arms. His tongue darted across his lips anxiously before his jaw clenched tightly. All he could do was let his gaze dance across her face, swearing that every pore of her skin reminded him of a paint stroke in a masterpiece. He cursed himself for never taking the time before to count the beauty marks that flecked across her features.

Why was this so hard? 

He had millions of things he wanted to tell her, but none of the words crossing his mind were enough. He wanted her, obviously. In so many ways. But what could he offer for the most extraordinary woman. Someone who he foolishly never gave the time of day that she deserved. He wanted to promise her a relationship. With stability, faithfulness, and comfort. But as he stared into her eyes that held fire to mask vulnerability, it was obvious that was not who he was. Raw emotion mixed with a painful hangover made his voice discordant.  

“I’m not enough for you...but I could try.”

He didn’t know what else to say but the truth. She was worth it. Trying. The shaky breath she released was difficult to interpret, as his celeste eyes frantically searched her face. What didn’t settle right in his stomach was when she turned her head, her forehead wrinkling in strife.

“Roger…”

“I’m a fuck up. I can’t control my jealousy, and seeing him...doing everything I’ve wanted to do...I was a prick. I just want you to always be by me. Taking your gorgeous pictures. Taking the piss with the lads. Distracting me from the wings.”

Now Roger couldn’t stop talking. He was desperate, words spilling out at lightning speed. His calloused hands reached out for her, gripping her upper arms tenderly. When she stiffened under his touch, he realized it was over. He’d lost her, and all he could do was admit defeat.

“But what I want isn’t what you deserve. You deserve a bloke who will ask you out on proper dates, not drunkenly snog you in a seedy club. You deserve more than that. University graduates. Pressed trousers. Steady job. Not some arse of a drummer who thinks knob instead of his head.”

He allowed his calloused digits to drag down her skin, memorizing how she felt as it would be one of the first and last times he could ever do so. As the tips danced over her wrists, he began to pull away knowing that his embrace was far from wanted. That’s why when her fingers reached forwards to intertwine with his, his grip was limp from shock. His gaze travelled from their touch meet her surprisingly affectionate stare.

“Maybe what I deserve isn’t what I want.”

His jaw slack, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth in a minute grin.

“You-”

“Did you really need to have a diva fit to realize that in my eyes no one will ever replace you?”

Her teasing jest was all it took for him to tug her tightly against his chest with his hands encasing the sides her of her face. Roger had one more thing to prove. It was that there would never be another man who would take her breath away like he could.

tagging previous reblogs/comments/asks:

@katiekitty261 @floralcyanide @axhillxs

@perriwiinkle @rogerinaismykillerqueen

@thealexandraway @2tits-johndeacon 

@rogerinahardy1 @marvelxlena

 @whatimreadingrnatm @rogerinahardy1 

@bulsaratheopera @that-fandom-sucks-tho 

@baebee35 @poachedhazontoast

@golddustghost  @16wiishes

@princessskylarsblog @rogerfxckingtaylor

@strawberryfields-forever @mcrmarvelloki

@pancakefancake @thealexandraway

@rogerinamainbitch