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xlostinobsessionsx · 3 years

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Everything has changed | Charlie Gillespie

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x female Reader

Word Count: 2,854

Warnings: None, just tooth-rotting fluff

Hello, lovely fantoms! 👻💞

I’ve written my first Charlie Gillespie imagine ever. It’s been a while since I’ve last written anything. Furthermore I’ve never written anything in English because it’s not my native language.

A really really big thank you goes to @bass-ic-deaky 💕

Thank you for going out of your way to not only correct my syntax and grammar but also to even writing an entire part of it and making it way more emotional! (A/N: She refined the airport scene and now it makes me cry!) 💗

I hope you enjoy it!

(It’s based on the song Everything has changed by Taylor Swift ft. Ed Sheeran)

Masterlist

The first season of Julie and the Phantoms had been a huge success. It wasn’t long after for the second season to be announced. Kenny Ortega wanted to support even more young talent this time and had decided to give young songwriters a chance to write a song for the show. When (Y/N) had learned about this, she quickly had sent drafts of some of her songs to the executives in charge. (Y/N) couldn't believe it when she was invited a few weeks later to go to Vancouver to become part of the show. (Y/N) was not only allowed to attend the vocal coaching and the recordings of the songs, but also to be present during the shooting of the scenes for which she had written the song. The song was used for one of the performances of the band Julie and the Phantoms so (Y/N) hung around a lot with Madison and the boys. They all got on very well and (Y/N) liked each of them a lot. However she had to admit to herself that she had a crush on the canadian. Just a little one. Alright, maybe a big one, but she would never admit it.

(Y/N) always brought her guitar to set, so that she could play a bit in between takes. She was sitting apart from the actors, who were eating lunch, not feeling that hungry today. Not playing too loud to prevent her from disturbing anyone, (Y/N) lightly strummed her guitar strings before softly, she began to sing.

All I knew this morning when I woke

Is I know something now, know something now I didn't before

This was how (Y/N) had felt the first morning on set. She had been so nervous that she had been trembling slightly. What if the cast didn’t like her song? Even if she had been afraid, she knew that this was a unique chance. It had been a step out of her comfort zone and she had been aware that a lot of new things would be coming her way.

And all I've seen since 18 hours ago

Is green eyes and freckles

And your smile in the back of my mind making me feel like

The first time her eyes had met the ones of the young actor (Y/N) couldn’t stop thinking about him. From day one Charlie had been incredulously nice to her, trying to make her feel comfortable on set. He had made sure to let her know how much he liked the song she had written for the show. At the end of the first day she had gone home with a big smile on her face, thought of Charlie clouding her mind.

I just want to know you better, know you better, know you better now

(Y/N) had wanted to know more about him. And with every new bit of information she got from him about himself, her interest only grew and her heart beat faster and faster.

Suddenly, someone sat down next to her. She looked up, slightly startled. Charlie chuckled “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. That sounded really good.” He complimented her with a wide smile. (Y/N) felt her cheeks turning crimson. “Is it yours? That song I mean.” He asked curiously.

(Y/N) nodded, hoping that Charlie hadn’t heard much of the lyrics. “Yeah, but it’s not finished yet. I can't seem to get any further from there.” She sighed.

“I could help you!” The young actor offered joyfully, as he quickly took the last bite of his pizza before wiping his hands as he turned to her.

“Uhm, you don’t have to.” (Y/N) nervously answered, feeling her face heat up further. She knew her feelings were unreciprocated and working with him on a song would only make things worse.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Charlie smiled brightly at her.

She paused, taking in his bright smile and the sincerity within his eyes. “Okay, fine.” (Y/N) gave in.

“Play the beginning again.” Charlie requested. (Y/N) took a deep breath, hoping the actor also won’t notice that it was about him. She started to play the song from the beginning and slowed to a stop at the same spot she did before. Charlie looked thoughtfully at her. “Hmmm, okay. So if I got this right, it’s a love song, right?” He asked her. (Y/N) nodded shyly. “Well, if you tell a story about two people meeting for the first time, why not go on from there? May I?” He pointed at the guitar. (Y/N) gave it to him relieved he didn’t catch up on her feelings for him yet. Slowly the actor started to play a few chords until he settled for a melody fitting the one she had played before.

Cause all I know is we said hello

His eyes met hers, a big smile forming on his lips.

And your eyes look like coming home

All I know is a simple name

He slowly came to a stop, unable to think of the next line. (Y/N) hoped he would just never stop singing to her. “What do you think of that?” Charlie interrupted her thoughts.

(Y/N) cleared her throat, shaking out her thoughts. “It sounds really good.” She complimented with a smile. “Could you maybe start again and this time end with G?” She asked him. Charlie nodded and started to play and sing the same part again he had just made up.

'Cause all I know is we said hello

And your eyes look like coming home

All I know is a simple name

Everything has changed

(Y/N) sang when Charlie played the G-chord. He looked up at her surprised. “Wow, this is amazing! The line is so fitting! Everything has changed, (Y/N) you’re a genius!” He exclaimed with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

(Y/N) giggled, happy that Charlie liked it. “Thanks, Charlie.” She smiled brightly at him. With a nod Charlie started to play again.

All I know was you held the door

(Y/N) suggested, still remembering when Charlie had held the big doors that led inside the massive building with all the sets inside open for her. Charlie nodded encouraging her to continue but the words that almost left her lips next were too much. Instead Charlie continued, eyes never leaving hers.

And you'll be mine and I'll be yours

All I know since yesterday

Is everything has changed

He finished the chorus. Shocked, (Y/N) looked at him with big eyes. It was like Charlie had read her thoughts. But he couldn’t have. He was just trying to write a love song. He couldn’t feel the same about her! They just stared into each other’s eyes. A soft smile was forming on Charlie’s lips, so contagious that when it made any panic she felt go away, she had to smile herself. They were really having a moment, but all moments must come to an end. “We need you two on set again.” Kenny informed them from across the room. Charlie nodded at Kenny and rose from his spot next to her. The actor held out his hand for her. “You good to go?” He asked her. (Y/N) nodded and took his hand following him into the halls where they were filming the next scene.

Soon, it was (Y/N)’s last day on set. The scene in which her song was sung had been recorded. She said her goodbyes to everyone, one by one. “We have something for you!” Madison smiled at her. “So that you won’t forget us.” She gave (Y/N) a small box. Carefully, (Y/N) opened it. Inside was a necklace with a small pendant, which looked like a dahlia.

Tears were forming in (Y/N)’s eyes as she looked up at the cast, all grinning widely at her. “Thank you all so much for everything!” She hugged each of them goodbye. Charlie had insisted on taking her to the airport. They slowly walked through the halls, taking their time, wanting to spend every moment they had left with each other. Slowly, (Y/N) turned to face him when they arrived at security, as far as Charlie could go with her. A small sad smile was visible on his lips. “I’m gonna miss you.” (Y/N) admitted shyly.

Immediately she was pulled into a tight hug. “I’m gonna miss you more.” Charlie mumbled quietly into the crook of her neck. Slowly they pulled back from the hug, Charlie’s hands were still firmly situated around her waist, sending an electric jolt through her body. They looked deeply into each other’s eyes, each sparkling with a certain emotion neither could place. (Y/N) felt her heart pounding wildly as she saw his eyes flick downward. Did she just witness his gaze wander to her lips? No, that must’ve been her imagination. There was no way he liked her like that, but even still there was no denying the chemistry between them, the magnetism that pulled them toward one another. He was all she could see. (Y/N) could’ve stayed there forever with Charlie. Even as people hustled about the pair, all shouting, all rushing to catch their planes, it felt as though they were the only two people in the world. It was just them in their moment of pure bliss. All that mattered in this moment was Charlie, and him alone. She felt her heart speed up as she subconsciously found herself, just as Charlie had, leaning in closer to the actor. They were well and truly going to share a moment. But all moments must come to an end. “Flight AA73 will be boarding at gate 77 in forty-five minutes.” A voice came over the loudspeaker announcing details of her flight, effectively breaking their bubble of bliss.

“Your flight is going to depart soon, too.” He sighed, offering her a crooked smile. She nodded, a pang of sadness radiating through her chest. Slowly and reluctantly, he let her go, hands lingering on her for as long as physically possible, so she could go through security. As she neared the metal detectors (Y/N) turned around one last time to see the brunette still standing there. Her (e/c) gaze caught his. He offered her one last grin, sadness barely evident on his face as he waved. She returned the smile, returning a small wave before she disappeared from his sight. During her flight, (Y/N) tried to keep her mind busy, trying with great effort to not think about Charlie. Reading a book, watching a movie, listening to music, none of it helped. Her thoughts always returned to the brunette actor and that sweetly goofy grin of his. Every time she closed her eyes he was there, preventing her from falling asleep.

Once (Y/N) got home, she put her suitcases in a corner before flopping down on her bed. Tiredly, she looked at her phone, which showed that she had received several messages. “Hope your flight was good and that you arrived home safely. Can’t wait to see you again!” Madi had sent her. Owen and Jeremy also had sent her messages, but one particular message caught her eyes.

Come back and tell me why

I'm feeling like I've missed you all this time

Her heart was pounding so quickly, it felt as though it would jump out of her chest at any moment. Did Charlie maybe feel the same way? It was hopeless even if he did, she would probably never see him again. Only if she visited him or the other way around. Such a meeting would come about in a few weeks. Until then, (Y/N) could only dream of at that moment.

Once they finished the filming of season two, Charlie was back in Los Angeles. He immediately called her. “Hey, how have you been?” He asked her excitedly.

“Good so far. Missing the time on set though.” She replied, glad to hear his voice again.

“We missed you, too!” He told her, a smile tugging on his lips. “I missed you.” He added quickly after. “I actually missed you so much that I might’ve bought a ticket for you to come visit me in LA, you know, because you said you’ve never been.”

“You did what?” She asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, I’m gonna send it to you. And...now it should be in your e-mail.” She could hear his smile through the phone. (Y/N) opened up her mailbox and sure enough, there was a message from Charlie.

“You’re crazy!” She exclaimed.

The boy on the other end of the line laughed. “See you in three days!”

Los Angeles was great but spending time with Charlie was even better. (Y/N) had planned to stay at least a week so they had enough time together. Charlie first had shown her around his neighbourhood, taking her around all his old haunts. They had been to the beach together and had eaten at all of his favourite restaurants and cafes. But what she adored most about her trip was doing ordinary, usually mundane tasks together like cooking or watching a movie in the evening or even just jamming out a bit. Sometimes (Y/N) thought that this was how it would be to be in a relationship with him. “I’m going to run to the grocery store real quick.” He informed her one evening. (Y/N) was sitting on his couch scrolling through Netflix, trying to find a movie they could watch later. She nodded. “Do you need anything?” He asked her. (Y/N) shook her head. “Okay, I’m gonna hurry. Don’t do something stupid while I’m gone!”

(Y/N) giggled softly. “Shouldn’t I saying that to you? You’re the chaotic one.”

Charlie laughed. “Yeah yeah, I know. Be back soon.” He said while closing the door. (Y/N) huffed, not able to find a film they could watch. She decided to wait for Charlie to come back so that they could choose one together. She reached for her guitar she specifically brought to play together with Charlie. Softly she began to sing.

'Cause all I know is we said hello

And your eyes look like coming home

All I know is a simple name

Everything has changed

All I know was you held the door

And you'll be mine and I'll be yours

All I know since yesterday

Is everything has changed

Come back and tell me why

I’m feeling like I’ve missed you all this time

And meet me there tonight

Let me know that it’s not all in my mind

When Charlie had sent her the message she couldn’t get it out of her head for days so she decided to include it in the song. (Y/N) was so engrossed that she hadn't heard the front door open. Charlie was already back and standing behind her. “Did you finish the song? I thought we wanted to finish it together! And was that the message I sent you when you went back home?” He rambled with a furrowed brow.

(Y/N) turned to look at him with wide eyes, her cheeks taking a faint shade of red. “Charlie I - “ She began.

The actor took a seat next to her. “Why did you put it in the song? I mean it fits the entire love story thing because it sounds like a confession but…” He trailed off as he realised what he had said, his eyes grew wide. He had the feeling that he might have just admitted how he felt towards her. His cheeks turned crimson.

“Wait….are you - “ (Y/N) cleared her throat, which suddenly felt quite dry. “Are you saying you like me?” She asked, the hope inside of her started to grow. Maybe he did feel the same way after all.

“No! Charlie quickly exclaimed. Suddenly (Y/N)’s eyes grew sad. “I mean...maybe…” The actor quickly back peddled. “What if I am?” He nervously rubbed his neck.

“Well, uhm…” (Y/N) nervously fumbled with her hair “If you are then I would too…maybe… even though I don’t really have to because the entire song is one, I guess.” She shyly shrugged.

Charlie`s eyes grew wide “Wait...are you saying the song is about me? About us?” A big smile formed on his lips. (Y/N) nodded slowly making Charlie sighed, absolutely relieved. “May I?” He pointed to the guitar. She nodded handing it to him. He took it from her and placed it on the ground. (Y/N) looked confused at him. “It would have been in the way.” Charlie explained quietly as he gently grabbed her face, pulled her close to meet him in a soft, tender kiss.

Slowly they detached from one another, each smiling brighter than the other. (Y/N) chuckled “I can’t believe you feel the same!”.

“Well, I thought I let you know that it’s not all in your mind.” He quoted her.

(Y/N) laughed. “What do you think?” Charlie picked up her guitar and gave it to her.

He reached behind him where his guitar lay and placed it in his hands. “Should we play the song again? Together?” (Y/N) nodded joyfully. She took a deep breath, still trying to register what just had happened. Charlie smiled softly at her “You good to go?”

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x you #charlie gillespie x female reader #charlie gillespie x (y/n)#julie and the phantoms #jatp #love #everything has changed #actor #singer #fluff #fluffy #imagine #charles gillespie #luke patterson

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moonmultimuse · 3 years

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I was tagged by @surprise-nikki and I tag @unknownoblivion and @bass-ic-deaky !

https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%253A%252F%252Fpicrew.me%252Fimage_maker%252F114808&t=MWZiYjdmZTk1NGIxOTNkYzBiOGQwNWM2YWE0ZTc3NTlhNzM5NmVhMiwyZTNlNjA1NTc5MWQ5YTE2ZGE1MDJiNmVmOTNhNThjMDg3NWNhYmM1&ts=1612234823

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guitarplayingastrophysicist · 5 years

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When you hear Deaky drop the bass line for “Under Pressure” and you’re all ready to come in with the mmm ba de and it’s “Ice Ice Baby” instead:

#queen #queen band #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #roger taylor #under pressure #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #borhap boys #rami malek #gwilym lee #ben hardy #joe mazzello #joseph mazzello

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kenobion · 4 years

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whats your favourite... spice/perfume/bass guitar style/icecream flavour?? xx

Cloves are the best spice to me, they taste great in baked goods, and you can make a nice scented thing to hang in your closets by taking whole cloves and sticking them into an unpeeled orange. I did that once as a project in school and it smelled great.

I don’t know any perfume names or brands, but overall I like subtle scents like vanilla or a gentle musk smell, or floral scents that are understated. I stay away from anything powerful or cinnamon or cucumber scented (cause I’m allergic to those). Light scents are nice though, especially those with a warm undertone.

In terms of playing style I like the standard fingerstyle for bass, cause it feels most natural and it translates well into playing light and fast (which for lots of Deaky’s bass lines is definitely needed). In theory I know how to play slap but I haven’t really done it so I’m hoping the book I’ve been learning from will give me some slap style songs eventually cause I wanna try it. Pick style is a thing too and it’d probably be good to learn but holding onto a pick bugs me, I’m not used to the feeling (not yet anyway).

I weirdly love birthday cake flavor ice cream - I don’t know if that’s something that exists everywhere, or if maybe it’s more of a regional thing but it’s super delicious. It tastes like a yellow birthday cake and has the little rainbow confetti bits in too, and it’s unexpectedly amazing. I love coffee ice cream a lot too but something about the birthday cake flavor is even better, and I very slightly prefer it. Thank you so much for sending Kit! 💖

What’s your favorite asks

#ask games #random

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

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double shot. {John Deacon} /SMUT\

Anon asked: Okay so I absolutely love your writing, AMD I'm an absolute thot, so I was wondering if you could potentially wrote something where the reading is a friends of the band, and one night when they're out at a party together the reader gets a confidence boost and tries to get a little "Freaky with Deacy"....if you catch my drift.

A/N: 3380 words. I’m hot for 1981 Montreal!Deaky, but what’s new. Pretend he’s single and that Roger’s green hair makes sense in the timeline. SMUT!! Unprotected sex and drunk sex. (also ignore the weak ending, no that’s no inuendo, i mean of the fic, but it’s 7am and i’ve been writing all night i just want this done).

“You look like an idiot.” You’re not even looking at Roger when you say it, eyes fixed firmly on the dance floor as you stirred the ice in your mostly empty glass.

“I think I look rather dashing.” Roger, ever the relentless narcissist, and unfortunately one of your closest friends, is also only paying you about fifty percent attention where he’s got his eye on some girl by the bar.

“Your hair’s green.” You try to flick your little, cardboard straw at him, but it misses, and snaps him from his own distraction to notice yours, after it lands on his shoulder.

“Well not on purpose.” Running his hands through his hair a little self consciously, he finally follows your gaze to one dancing bass player in the crowd, “you ever going to stop making mooney-eyes and just go and shag him?”

“Excuse you, Roger!” You splutter, finally tearing your gaze away from John to level a glare at former blonde beside you, embarrassment heating your cheeks. His smile sharpened at your obvious flusteredness, and he finishes his drink with far more confidence than he should rightly have in his cosmetic state.

“You think I spend all day staring at a wall, blatantly ignoring the way you eye-fuck him from side of stage?” Putting his glass down with a thump, Roger’s grin turns amused as his gaze slides to catch glimpses of John bopping his way over to the bar through the crowd. “Not that he’s any better.”

“What about you?” Despite how pleased his words made you, you were quick to turn the conversation around. “You going to make a move on whoever your poor target for tonight is?”

“You make me sound like I’m hunting these poor women,” he huffed, clearly indignant, “and anyway, it’s a totally different situation, it’s not like I’ve been pining over Stephanie for months.”

“You haven’t even talked to her, how do you know her name?” Glancing over at the woman by the bar, she keeps glancing over at the two of you, well, at Roger, and her drink is getting dangerously low; you know he’s getting close to making his move.

“I don’t, but she looks like a Stephanie,” he paused, his smile sliding to a smirk as he winks at the girl by the bar. You don’t look over to catch her reaction, but judging by the glint in Roger’s eye, it was a good one, “maybe a Michelle.”

“Also, it hasn’t been months, and it hasn’t been pining, I just...” And if your voice slipped into a little bit of a whine as you found yourself watching John by the bar, Roger, for once in his life, was kind enough not to comment on it.

“You just want to shag Alcatraz, I know.” Roger gave you a cheeky smile, which you scowled at. “Sorry, love, forgot you were hot for the short-haired look.” He snorted, though you didn’t deny it. “Listen, just put all of us out of our misery and,” he pauses for a minute, brow creasing as he stood from his chair, “I don’t know, something about basses and fucking, you get the idea.”

“You have such a way with words,” you grimace, sarcasm heavy in your voice, “at least get me a drink while you’re over there.” He rolls his eyes at your request, but agrees easily. “Make it two!” You call as an afterthought.

Of course part of you assumes that you’re never getting those drinks; the moment Roger’s within five feet of that woman at the bar, he’ll forget your very existence until he wakes up the next morning, and he’ll have zero regrets, at least regarding you. Not that you begrudge him for that, you knew him too well to expect anything else.

The music from the jukebox is playing loud enough over the sea of people that you can feel the beat in your bones, and as your earlier drink starts to set in, you let yourself sway in your seat to the music, contemplating getting a drink for yourself, though it turns out you don’t need to.

“I was told to deliver these to you.” Deaky’s grinning, carefully placing two drinks onto the table in front of you, keeping a third in his own hands. Your pleasant surprise at the sight of him turns to exasperation as you look to the bar and see Roger giving you a jaunty wave and a shiteating grin.

“Of course you were.” Your smile returns to John, and you pat the vacant seat beside you. “Come on, if you go back out there, you’ll end up spilling it all over yourself.” John flushes at that, casting a gaze at the crowd on the dance floor, before he looks back to you, his smile widening as he settled in beside you.

It had only been a few years since you’d joined the bands tour crew as an assistant stylist, though they liked to affectionately refer to you as their professional groupie. You took the nickname in stride, however, after all, the only things the main stylist ever gave you for them was a hairbrush and eyeliner, and you trusted the band well enough to brush their own hair.

Tours are messy and too close for comfort, you quickly learned, and after a few weeks of awkwardly leaning over them and pretending like they hadn’t been passed out and hungover more times than you can keep track of, you take your one job in stride and asked Freddie if you could just sit in his lap to put on his eyeliner and save you all some embarrassment.

“Of course, darling, I don’t bite,” There was a twinkle in his eye, “at least, not during business hours.” He finishes, but ultimately, he was mostly respectful, as they all were, Roger notwithstanding until after you kicked him in the shins and threatened to aim higher next time.

“I like your perfume.” John had always been very quiet whenever you were with him, so it came as a surprise when, halfway through applying his eyeliner, he pays you an unexpected compliment.

“Thank you,” you’re a little flustered, a little uncertain, you’d watched him perform for almost a month at this point and you’d developed maybe the teeniest crush on him, “I like your music.” Mentally you’re berating yourself, you actually have to take a moment to pause and frown over your own choice of words. He takes it in stride easily enough.

“I would hope so,” he starts, tone deceptively mild as his eyes flutter open to gauge your reaction, “otherwise this must be some form of cruel and unusual punishment.” And that’s enough to startle a laugh from you, the sound bringing a smile to his own lips as you lean back for a moment, and you feel his light tough on your waist where he’s steadying you.

As the months and tours and music videos go by, he quickly becomes your favourite (he’d always been your favourite, you were just less likely to admit it before) and he, much to your surprise, quickly begins to favour you too. Conversation comes easily, though he seems to prefer to talk when you’re applying his eyeliner, voice quiet, his hands resting on your thighs where you’ve got a leg either side of him where he’s sitting. Every so often when you’re buzzing about the space after you’re finished with him, he’ll shoot you a smile, or if you make a joke, more often than not you’ll hear his quiet laughter.

The fact that every time you watch him perform or even just dance, you wanted to bang him - how did that song go again? Oh right - all day long, that had just become an undercurrent of your life that you tried to ignore. He was your friend and you technically worked for him and- god damn it, it got harder and harder to keep coming up with excused not to make a move on him, especially when the others were so pointedly trying to get you together.

So maybe tonight, thanks to the drinks Roger bought you (double shot, the both of them, that cheeky bastard), and Deaky looking particularly good in that all blue outfit, was the night you finally made a move on the bopping bassist of Queen. Or, you consider as he’s got his hand around your wrist, tugging gently you towards the dance floor as you quickly finish your drink a while later, he might make a move on you. Actually, you don’t mind the sound of that.

The world turns blurry at the edges, a kaleidoscope of lights bouncing off the walls and dancers. Sometimes he’s holding you, by the hand, by the waist, always moving to the beat, always so careful, sometimes he’s twirling you and for one heart-stopping moment you feel like you’re flying, and distantly you know that what goes up must come down, but he catches you before you spin out too far, having never left solid ground to begin with. He doesn’t let you fall.

“I’ve got you.” He assures, hand on the small of your back. He’s so close, practically nose to nose, his smile so familiar yet surprisingly cheeky, though part of you suspects it’s due to the drinks, at least in part. So is the courage you gain for your next move, though.

You kiss him, in the middle of the dance floor, crushing your lips against his as you pull him in by his collar. When his grip on you tightens just a little and he kisses you back, you feel relief flood through you that you hadn’t realised you’d been waiting for. When he pulls back, he’s full on beaming at you. There’s a pause, a hesitation, an uncertainty, like maybe he wants to kiss you again, or pull you back to the dance floor, but then someone stumbles into you, almost spilling their on you, and Deaky pulls you back in time.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” You ask, as someone knocks into him from the dance floor, and it’s as if you suddenly remember how stuffy and crowded it is.

“I’d love to.” He agrees.

The taxi ride back to the hotel is giggly and sloppy, at one point he presses a kiss to your nose, and it sends you into a fit of giggles, which only serves to make him grin brighter.

“Was that not the right spot?” He asked, bright and faux innocent, and you’re trying to quell your laughter as he takes your face in his hands and plants a kiss on your forehead. You actually snort at that. “Warmer?” He asked with a grin, still holding your face. After a moment, he squishes your cheeks together and bursts out laughing. Once he drops his hands, you grin.

“No, I think-” and you cut yourself off by pressing your lips to his temple, before pulling back a little and humming, before going back in and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. His laughter dies down and he catches your face as you go to lean back, instead pulling you in for a proper, passionate kiss. He hums, pleased against your lips, pulling you practically into his lap in the back of the taxi, and you feel your body already humming with anticipation. In this moment, you’ve never wanted anything more than him.

With him it’s not rushed, but it’s passionate, and fun above all else. You’re both still tipsy; he’s grinning and humming something familiar as you help pull his shirt over his head, letting himself fall backwards onto the bed when he hits the edge of it, beckoning you to him. You straddle him where he’s laying back, and he takes his time to admire you,hands sliding beneath the fabric of your shirt, to ghost over your stomach and land at your hips. Leaning in, you press a kiss to his lips, your hands coming to meet his as you teasingly lick at his bottom lip before sitting back up and impatiently pull your own shirt over your head.

There’s that admiring look again, but something about it fills you with warmth, the look in his eyes like he’s blessed to see such a sight. His hands come up to rest at your waist, moving to the small of your back so he can guide you to him for another kiss. This time he wastes no time, and unclasps your bra with surprising ease, helping you out of it without breaking the kiss as it becomes more desperate. Your bare chest against his, the giddy teasing fades in to want, as one of his hands finds your hip, encouraging you wordlessly as you begin to grind against him. His other hand grazes up your side, nails scraping gently against your sensitive skin, eliciting a gasp, back arching at the touch. With you hovering above him, the hand at your side comes to cup one of your boobs, squeezing for a moment before he kisses the gentle swell of it, his lips trailing down until he’s sitting upright and pressing a kiss to your sternum.

Looking back up at you, his pupils are blown wide, and he kisses you with a ferocity you hadn’t anticipated. His mouth is hot when he presses kisses to the column of your throat, his hands on your thighs where you’ve got your legs wrapped around him, shifting and grinding in his lap, desperate for some sort of friction, or for the both of you to be wearing less pants.

“Pants.” You finally gasp out, scrambling from his lap and unbuckling your own jeans in a desperate hurry. “Pants off.” You clarify to his confusion.

“Good call.” He agrees, and he’s beaming again, as if he his heart isn’t racing and the sight of you, so desperate to get undressed and fuck him, doesn’t making him unbearably hard. You can’t help but be a little flustered by his smile, among other things. By the time you’ve gotten your pants and panties off, he’s got his jeans mostly off, he’s just struggling with one leg.

“You need help?” You ask, and he looks up, as if finally seeing you, and he actually blushes.

“A little.” He admits, and you tug off the jeans with ease. Standing over him with a triumphant smile, he looks you over like he’s trying to savour the moment; no-one’s ever looked at you quite like that before, like they were simultaneously in awe of and hungry for you. “Where were we?” He asks, voice low and surprisingly rough as you waste no time sitting in his lap.

“Right- here-” you punctuate each word with a hard kiss, reaching down between the two of you to where his cock was standing hard against his stomach. Gently you begin to pump your hand up and down the shaft of his cock, listening to him gasp and groan as he pressed kisses along your neck. You swipe your thumb over the head where it’s already leaking precum, and you shift as you too are already wet with anticipation and need.

“God, I want to fuck you,” your own voice comes out a low moan, and the moment the words leave your mouth, his hand takes yours, and you still. He’s looking at you now, and more than anything he wants you.

“Please.”

Gently, with his hands on your hips as a guide, you kneel on the bed, straddling him, and you lower yourself onto him. His cock slides in with ease, you’re practically dripping, and you let out a long, low moan, and he hums in response, smiling at the sight of you, your eyes closed and mouth open in quiet pleasure.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” He murmurs, admiring you as your pussy flutters around his cock buried deep inside of you. You stay like that for a long moment, just getting used to the feel of him inside you, but the moment he shifts, just a little, experimentally, your eyes flicker open and your lips stretch into a smirk as you look at him through your lashes. Slowly at first, you begin to grind, your hips rolling to meet his; he’s got a hand on your lower back to keep you steady, and the other is at your tits, tugging at one of your nipples as he sucks the other into his mouth. At that you whimper, arching your back as he bites gently, tugs a little harder, and the rhythm of your hips stutters against him for just a moment.

You lift his chin with one hand, his lips meeting yours in a messy, desperate kiss as you moan into his mouth, still rocking against him. It’s not enough, so with gentle hands you press against his chest guiding him to lay down on the bed trailing kisses down his neck and chest as you ride him. He’s got a firm grip on your ass, and when his hips snap up to meet yours you audibly gasp.

“Incredible,” he murmurs, and he leans up, pulling you in to meet him half way as you’re fucking him, “you’re incredible.” And your breathy panting turns to moans against his lips when he’s got one hand between the two of you, thumb on your clit. He’s almost teasingly gentle, and your frantic rhythm slows down a little to accommodate the new stimulation, and as rubs the sensitive nerves more firmly, curses come tumbling from your lips. This just seems to encourage him to move more insistently, and he shifts his hips to an angle to fuck you just a bit deeper and you actually cry out.

“Fuck- fu- plea- please fuck me.” You whimper, breathless and needy. He’s happy to oblige. When you climb off of him, you’re quick to replace his cock with your fingers as you lay back against the bed, need curling low and hot within you, and he watches for just a moment with a smirk.

“How long have you wanted this, darling?” He asks, already moving himself between your legs, which split easily for him.

“So long, so so long.” You admit, groaning as he takes your hand away and slides easily back into you. For just a moment he’s still, buried to the hilt inside of you, then he starts thrusting, teasingly slow at first.

“Good.” He murmurs, and though your eyes are closed, you can hear the smirk in his voice. He’s still holding your hand, and after a beat, he tugs at your wrist, pulling your hand to him, and your eyes flutter open to see him suck your slick digits clean.

“Oh god, oh fuck,” you moan, rolling your hips to meet his as your head falls back against the pillows, the image of him looking at you with nothing but want in his eyes as he sucks your own juice off your fingers now burned into your memory for you to get off to in your own time. He’s still holding your hand, fingers laced with yours as he presses it against the bed. Your legs come up to wrap around him as you feel yourself getting close, and you reach down with your free hand to toy with your clit.

Your panting turns to whimpers turn to crying out his name as you come, wrapped up in him and the feeling of ecstasy that washes through you, with him still deep inside of you. He fucks you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, and as you’re coming down, he bites back a long groan as he pulls out of you, his cum hitting your stomach and tits. He lets out a long, pleased sigh, collapsing beside you. There’s tissues on the bedside table which you clean yourself up with well enough, and as you’re turned away, throwing the tissues out, John presses a kiss between your shoulder blades.

He’s smiling when you roll over to face him, and kisses you back tenderly when you lean in.

“We should do this again some time.” You say with a half-smile, and he lays back against the bed, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I think that can be arranged.”

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queenmylovely · 5 years

Text

Just My Luck; Part 3

Summary: John deacon x fem!reader. John and Reader make plans to see each other

Warnings: cussing, slow burn

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: There’s more of Queen in this one, especially of the Chaos Duo. It’s kind of a filler chapter, but there are a lot of cute little moments. Most likely, I’ll be posting on weekends from now own. As always let me know what you think!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14 (Epilogue), Masterlist

🍀🍀🍀

Exactly three weeks after John sent the letter to you, he received one and sent another.

Receiving your letter was a godsend to him. To all of the boys. Not only did it save Deaky from his own worrisome mind, but it also saved Brian from constantly having to patrol Freddie and Roger, and saved Freddie and Roger from coming under the wrath of over protective Brian or manic Deaky. Not that the cycle wouldn’t repeat itself as soon as a week passed with no reply.

In the aftermath of your letter, Roger and Freddie figured they had an about two day grace period where they could talk about you and tease John as much as they wanted.

“Well it’s official, you two are now properly each other’s,” teased Freddie, referencing the way each of you signed off your letters. This got an eye roll and beginnings of a quick response from Deaky but he continued anyway, “Why don’t we call you Johnny? Where the hell did Deaky come from?” He questioned. “Johnny is much more traditional.”

“Are you joking? Fred, you’re the one who started calling me Deaky, because Johnny was too traditional,” replied a flabbergasted John.

“Oh that’s right, because fuck how things are traditionally done. Although I thinks it’s absolutely precious that your girl has a special nickname for you,” Freddie remembered, giving Deaky a cheeky smile. Deaky just ignored the comment about you being his girl and tried to focus on tuning his bass.

Since the band was in the studio before noon, John had gotten the letter early and decided to mail his response on the way back home. For now, he, Freddie, and Roger were in the control room while Brian was working some guitar part in the sound booth.

“In any case, I think the best course of action for you, Deaks, is to meet on your turf. If she comes to London, you can show her around, take her to all the fanciest places, have her stay with you, in your bed,” Roger said into the silence. His last remark was solely for Deaky’s embarrassment, and he knew his mission was accomplished when he saw the red on the other man’s cheeks. He didn’t allow Deaky time to object as he continued, “Plus, we only went to Brussels in Belgium, not this Tourn-ey place, wherever the fuck that is. You wouldn’t be any help there.”

“Tournai,” John mumbled with the correct pronunciation. “It’s part of the French region in Belgium called Wallonia.”

“Well I’m glad to see that college education and those research skills haven’t gone to waste,” Roger joked, drawing laughs from the other two.

“French, you say, Deaky?” Freddie asked and John nodded. “You do know that French is the language of love, don’t you, dear? I bet Y/N is quite fluent and would jump at the chance to teach you.”

Again, Deaky just flushed at the implications of Freddie’s somewhat convoluted metaphor and focused on his bass.

After a while, they went back to working and got consumed by it. At around 4:00 p.m., when they finally had their lunch, Deaky remembered to write the letter, relying only on himself this time. He dropped it in a post box on their way home, this time around 9:00 p.m.

_____

Ten days later, after driving back from an early shift at the café, you were checking the mail in the lobby of your building and saw the now tell-tale sign of a letter addressed to you but without a name on the returning address. You sprinted up your stairs, seeing the long line outside of the elevator and knowing it would be faster to run. Reaching your apartment, you slowed down and grabbed your keys but picked right back up again once inside and ran into Jeanne’s open room. Even though it was half past noon she was still in bed, as she didn’t have class at all and didn’t work until much later. As you ran up, you grabbed her shoulder, giving it a small shake. She jumped awake then saw it was you and groaned, “Ugh, why did you wake me up? Why are you breathing so heavily? Wait, what’s in your hands? Is that another letter from John?” her questions becoming less annoyed and more excited as she went.

“Yes. But I can’t read it, I need you to.”

“Too nervous?” she asked, grabbing the letter from you as you nodded. “You know he’s going to say yes. Of course he wants to meet you in person.”

You just waited for her to start.

“Okay, here goes: ‘Dear Y/N, Your time at uni and your career plans sound brilliant. I’m sure you’ll be an amazing professor. If only I would have been so lucky to have someone like you for a communications professor, I might be better at it.’ Oh that’s cute,” Jeanne remarked and you smiled but looked down to hide the way his compliment made you feel.

She continued “‘I have been to Belgium, Brussels to be exact, but I haven’t ever been to Tournai. Since you’re teaching English there, do you speak French? Didn’t your best friend from high school speak French too?’ Yes, that’s right, John! Her lovely best friend, Jeanne, is the entire reason any of this reconnection is possible,” Jeanne laughed, delighted at this new revelation, causing you to groan and put your head in your hands. Jeanne remained content in her moment, pausing to do a little dance.

“What next, Jeanne? I’m sure the letter doesn’t stop at the mention of you,” you prompted when she took too long.

“Oh, right, just got a little distracted. Hmm, he says, ‘Although I did enjoy my time at Chelsea College, and did earn my degree, I’m not an engineer. I’m not sure that you would remember, but when we were in high school I was in a couple bands, which is what prompted my current career path. I’m working in music right now, which is what has allowed me to travel so much, to answer your other question.’ Wow, you didn’t tell me he was a musician!” Jeanne scolded with admiration for John in her eyes.

“I did, actually, it was just like, 7 years ago.”

“Ha, I keep forgetting that this is the same John as all those years ago. Okay, let’s see, next he says, ‘I absolutely would love to meet you in person! There’s no way that I would let you get within 300 km of me without seeing you.’ Hoo! That was too much. That just about took me out, how are you?” Jeanne said, fanning her face at his comments and looking at you to gauge your reaction. Your lips were pursed, eyes were wide and staring at the floor, and you felt your ears and cheeks heat up. Shaking your head, you motioned her to continue.

“‘If you wanted to come see London, I could show you around, being a local and all. I’m going to be in London all summer, so if you had any specific dates, I’m sure I’d be open.You could stay with me if you would like so you don’t have to pay for a hotel. Through my work I have access to discounted aeroplane tickets, if you would rather fly than take a 5 hour train ride. I honestly can’t wait to see you now. Ever Yours, Johnny.’ That’s so nice, you should take him up on his offer!” Jeanne said, referring to the plane tickets and extra room.

You were stuck on him wanting to see you so badly so it took you a second to respond, “What? Oh yeah, I’ll look into it.”

“Can’t focus because you’re smitten, huh?”

“Hmmm? What about a cat?”

“Smitten, not kitten. Geez, you’re gone,” Jeanne said as she laughed at the far-off look in your eyes. You remained in this state as you wrote back to him. Writing the letter, you probably poured in too much emotion, but Jeanne wouldn’t let you edit it any further. You had to trust Jeanne to drop the letter off on her way to work since you were busy with the final bit of paperwork you had before leaving for Tournai, which was just over one week away.

_____

You spent the rest of that week packing, carefully choosing what clothes you would bring with you. It was tricky because you were going there to teach but also to travel. This meant you had to have a lot of business casual clothes but also a wide array of layers in case you traveled somewhere colder. The most difficult choices were for the clothes you thought you would take with you to London. You wrestled with yourself because you didn’t want to stress out so much over clothes and definitely didn’t want to choose clothes specifically for one boy. Still, you kept thinking What will impress John? What will John like? despite yourself.

However, there was only so long you could agonize for and only so much you could fit. Eventually, all of your clothes and necessities were packed and you were spending your last night in the States much as you had the first night you had heard all of A Night at the Opera, with Jeanne and your mom.

The three of you talked during dinner then watched a movie, and closed out the night with another listening of the album, but paired with ice cream this time. It was an early night because you had to get up extremely early for the airport the next morning. Also because of this, your mom stayed over and slept in your bed with you.

After getting ready and getting into your bed, you were laying on your back staring at the ceiling. Your mom was facing the other way on her side, about to turn the lamp off when you spoke, causing her to turn to look at you “I’m nervous, Mom.”

“I know, honey. But you’re going to do great. Everyone in your class will learn English quick as whips, and I bet transitioning to life in Belgium will be easier than you think,” she said reassuringly. But that wasn’t all that was on your mind.

“Is it stupid that I’m actually more nervous about meeting John than I am about leaving the country for three months?” you questioned, grimacing at your own words.

“Nothing you feel is stupid. And I know you’re feeling vulnerable and scared, but there’s no way that you and John won’t get along. You wrote letters to each other for five years and never ran out of things to talk about. As soon as you get over the initial awkwardness, you’ll be thick as thieves.”

“Thanks, Mom. Love you, goodnight.”

“Love you too, goodnight, sweetie,” she said, turning off the light and rolling back on her side.

The alarm rang out all too soon, before the sun was up, and before you actually fell into a deep sleep. The three of you got up and got dressed in silence, eating toast and fruit with eyes half-closed. Jeanne drove your car to the airport with your mom and you leaning on each other in the backseat. The only sound was the soft music playing from the radio, a song you vaguely recognized as early Queen, called “Some Day One Day.”

Walking into the airport, to the luggage drop off, and to the gate, you were all chatting and making sure you had everything that you needed in your carry-on. The three of you sat at the gate to wait and soon enough, the first group was called to board. You were in the second group, so you started saying your goodbyes right away, hugging Jeanne first.

“I’m going to miss you so much! What am I going to do alone for three months? How am I going to handle having our entire apartment to myself? Without you reminding me constantly about dishes and vacuuming and dusting and eating all of my food?” Jeanne’s tone was turning from sad to gleeful as she realized all of the good things about you being gone.

From your place next to her head, you tried to turn and look at her, “You sound suspiciously happy that I’m leaving.”

“Happy? No, not me! Just a little liberated, heh,” she admitted and you both laughed.

“As I’m sure you just realized, you’ll be fine without me. Plus, the university gave us those vouchers to give to the phone company so international calls won’t charge extra, so you can call me anytime. Anytime that I’m awake that is.”

Then it was time to say goodbye to your mom. You both got misty-eyed and gave each other a long hug. It was times like these that you were glad you never got taller than your mom, happy for the extra comfort and protection her height gave you. After a minute, you both pulled away, and she held onto your arms, “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. This is a big step, and I know you’re going to do great. Remember to call me as soon as you get there and every Monday after that.”

“Thank you, Mom. Don’t worry, I will,” you replied. Then the intercom came on, calling for your group to board, “Love you, Jeanne,” you said, pulling her in for another quick hug before doing the same with your mom and kissing her on the cheek, “Love you, Mom. Keep each other company while I’m gone!”

They nodded and waved, as you walked right up to the desk, the last goodbye making you the last in your group. They stood together and watched the plane until it took off before heading back to the apartment to go on about their days.

_____

Deaky was asleep on the couch of the control room when the studio received your letter the day after you left Seattle.

Roger and Freddie, however, were wide awake, waiting for Brian to return with coffee when an intern came in with the letter and they maneuvered it from the unknowing college kid. They were quick to convince each other to open and read it without waking up Deaky.

Deciding to take turns reading it out loud, Freddie started, “‘Dear Johnny, Oui, je parle français.’ Oh she does speak French, astounding! ‘And yes, my still best friend, Jeanne, is the main reason that I can speak it at all. We’re roommates now and we still spend every Saturday just speaking French so we don’t lose it since her parents moved back to Montreal.’”

“This Jeanne girl sounds interesting. She can talk in English and French,” Roger said in a thoughtful voice, biting his lip. “They live together, too. Two girls speaking to each other in French…”

“Yes, that’s what it means to be bilingual,” Freddie replied dry-pan, ignoring Roger’s snort at the word “bilingual.” With a sigh, he continued, “‘Jeanne made it clear that she thought it was important to note that she’s the entire reason I’m even travelling to Tournai. But I can’t be too annoyed because that’s the reason I’m getting to meet you.’ My heart! I’m not sure I can keep reading this, you better take over.”

“Sure, you know I like a confident woman,” Roger smirked, earning an eye roll from Freddie. He found where Freddie left off on the page, “‘Of course I remember your bands! I always wanted to hear you play. When I’m in London, you’ll have to play me some of your old songs so I can experience it live!’ Ha, little does she know she’ll be staying with bassist of Queen. This is going to blow her mind!”

“Rog, love, do try to stay a little humble. She’s American, we’re not as well known over there. She might not even know who we are,” Freddie reminded him before joining the other man’s laughs. Although Freddie could be shy and wasn’t one to make other uncomfortable with his newfound wealth and fame, he was never less than proud of Queen, and wasn’t afraid to show it.

“Okay, okay, ‘If you’d be willing to have me, I would be delighted to stay with you and see London! You’re so sweet to extend your home to me. You’re way too kind to offer those vouchers, I’m fine taking the train. I have a week off from June 1-9, so I could come for a couple days if any of those work for you. I’m actually leaving for Tournai this Wednesday, so you can send the next letter to the address on the index card. Looking forward to seeing you more and more everyday! Very Truly Yours, Y/N. p.s. You seem very capable at communication to me, but the real test is in person.’ Oh-hoh-hoh, getting a little flirty aren’t we there,” Roger remarked, smirking.

“Ooo, very suggestive. Sounds like Deaky here is going to get himself a girlfriend by the first of June!” Freddie replied, both of them laughing.

“Deaky and Y/N sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S…,” one of them started and the other sang along. It was this that woke Deaky up. He rose to sitting on the couch and watched them dancing around with their backs to him.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily while asking, “What are you two on about?”

This stopped them in their tracks. They quickly put the letter back in the envelope, and whipped around, Roger holding the letter behind their backs. Unfortunately for them, Deaky had seen the flash of white.

“Nothing…” they replied in unison, trying to sound innocent.

“If you’re not up to anything, what are you hiding behind your backs?” Deaky questioned in a serious tone.

“Oh this?” Roger asked as he held up the letter and Deaky gasped. “It’s nothing important, just a letter from Y/N,” he said, tossing it to him.

“You opened it without me?”

“Not without you, darling, you were right there on the couch,” Freddie defended.

“I was asleep,” Deaky said half paying attention as he reopened the letter. As he started reading, his full focus stayed on what you wrote, not noticing the other two men staring intently at him. They exchanged glances when he visibly reacted to your words, grinning at you wanting to hear him play, frowning when you declined the vouchers, and giggling at your post-script.

Brian walked in as Deaky finished reading and looked at the scene in front of him before clearing his throat and holding up four cups of coffee. The other three heads snapped up, eyes zeroing in on the coffee. As they drank, Deaky filled Brian in on the details.

“You should definitely send the vouchers anyway. You should also tell her to stay the entire week. You can’t see all of London in two or three days,” Brian persuaded him, with encouragement from Roger and Freddie.

Deaky wrote another letter, including the vouchers and inviting you to stay the whole time.

_____

After arriving in Tournai, you got set up at an apartment with another graduate student from your program. As soon as you could, you called your mom and then Jeanne to check in.

Because of the day it took to travel, and the night stay at a hotel for orientation, you got John’s letter your second day at the apartment. You were surprised, but quickly remembered that mail would be much quicker within Europe.

You were so happy to see that he wanted you to stay the whole time and in your own letter gladly accepted. Although you thought the vouchers were too generous, some time on the phone with Jeanne convinced you to accept them anyway. Her talk didn’t stop you from thanking him over and over in your next letter, though.

_____

Over the course of the next week, you got settled in at your job teaching, too. Your new roommate, Eileen, was from France and was in Tournai to teach public speaking in the student’s native language. You thought you were lucky to be able to speak to her easily. She was nice, but reserved, and you soon developed a routine of eating breakfast together at the apartment and lunch together at the school, but had separate dinners.

On weekends you didn’t see much of her, so you explored much of Tournai on your own, quickly finding a cafe you loved and becoming a regular at the Museum of Fine Arts. Each week on Saturdays, you would spend the entire afternoon taking in a different branch for hours. You had completed three before your first four weeks were over and it was time to travel to London.

You packed your carry-on for London on the Friday night before, Jeanne on the phone to give you advice the whole time. You decided on two pairs of pants, two skirts, two dresses, five shirts, two jackets, and two pairs of shoes, including what you would wear on the plane. One of the dresses was pretty fancy, a choice made by Jeanne “just in case.”

You had told Eileen you would be gone during your week off a week earlier, and Saturday morning she asked you more about where you were going. Always polite and never prying, she accepted your description of your pen pal with understanding and offered to walk you to the train that would take you to airport. Walking with her, you confessed your nerves, and she turned to face you.

“We don't know each other that well, and I like you. He knows you very well,” she offered. You knew what she was implying, even if she wouldn’t go that far herself. That strengthened your resolve and thanked her, coming up on the train station. You kissed each other’s cheeks, as the French were wont to do, and stepped on the train, waving goodbye.

At the airport, you walked quickly and got to the gate forty-five minutes early. You sat, reading the book you had brought with you, Murder on the Orient Express. You had been inspired to read Agatha Christie’s books after her death reminded you of how much you liked the movie of the same name that came out a couple of years prior.

When your group number was called to board, you took a deep breath and stood. With no one to say goodbye to you walked straight to the forming line without hesitation.

🍀🍀🍀

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sailawaysweetsis · 5 years

Text

The Great Mercury

John Deacon x Reader

PART ONE

A/N: I am currently reading The Great Gatsby and I thought that we could use a lil bit of inspiration from the book.

Era: early 80’s (with a touch of the roaring 20’s)

Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 772

• • • •

The reflectors could be blinding at times. But that was nothing compared of what he experienced when he saw you.

You were at the front rows, cheering for the band when he looked at you. It was like a thousand reflectors were on you at the same time, a bright halo surrounding your figure. John was stunned for a few seconds that he forgot how to play the bass. For the rest of the show he kept eyeing you. He thought that he was being subtle, sneaking glances here and there so you wouldn’t notice him noticing you.

He was wrong.

After some songs you started noticing that a certain bass player scooted closer to where you were standing. You couldn’t recognize him at first but then it hit you. It was him. It was boy that many summers ago you fell in love with. It was the awkward, shy boy that stuttered when talking to you. He was your best friend. And now he was up on that stage.

His fingers slided up and down the bass, with a passion you’ve never seen before. He swayed to the beat of the drums, with that goofy smile of his. Lord, how much you missed him.

Now both of you were sneaking glances at each other, and your friend didn’t took long to realize that.

“His eye-candy, isn’t he?”

“What? Oh no, I mean yeah, I mean, no”

“S’alright. I call dibs on the hot drummer in the back. You keep your bass boy” You felt your cheeks burning.

In the blink of an eye, the show was over, and you decided to head towards backstage. You did this out of a sudden act of courage. You had no idea if they were going to let you in but you had to try. Your friend was also coming with you, trying to get closer to the blonde.

When you were near backstage, a big bulky guy stopped you in your tracks.

“I’m sorry ladies, but no one enters without a pass or permission”

“I know sir, but I must see John. My name is (Y/N) and he’s a long lost friend of mine, and I would love to chat with him”

“BS, don’t you think I’ve heard that before? Nice try, now, turn around or will call security”

“But sir-“

“I’m sorry miss. But you must leave immediately.” The guard pushed you away from the backstage entrance. You left, defeated, but with hope that you will see John again.

Just a few moments later John arrived where you where standing before. He asked the guy if he had seen a girl with your physical description.

“I did. She said she was a long lost friend of yours and that she wanted to see you”

“Damnit. It’s true what she said, so please, look for her if she hasn’t left yet and let her in.”

“Of course”

“Thank you”

John walked backstage and went into the room he shared with the guys. He plopped down on the couch as Brian and Roger fought over if ketchup was a smoothie and Freddie kept looking for his shoe. He sighed to himself, wondering how after all this time destiny or life or whatever it was, gave him the chance to have his lovely girl back in his life.

“Did you got her?” Freddie startled John, “I really hope that she didn’t left because that would be a real shame”

“She was there before me. The guard spoke to her but she left before I arrived”

“Damn, that was close Deaky” Now it was Roger’s turn to speak, “That’s what happens when you spend to much time with Brian. You never get the girl”

“Very funny Rog. At least I don’t sleep around with everyone and don’t even bother to get their names” Brian intervened.

“Aww sweet Deaky, you have nothing to worry about. I can assure you that you will see her again.”

“I can only hope”

“I have an idea, why don’t we make a party?” Proposed Freddie, “It would be at my house of course and we would invite all types of people. We can serve champagne and hors d'oeuvres and I can tell Paul to get us this huge ice sculpture that-“

“With all respect Fred, but why would a party help?”

“Because we will announce it everywhere. She will eventually hear about it and come. And when she does, you will make a move and ask her out. Alright, sweetheart?”

“You know Fred” John said, face full of hope, “That’s actually a good idea”

“It’s settled then. Let’s make a party!”

#john deacon #john deacon x y/n #john deacon x reader #john deacon x you #queen x reader #queen fanfic #queen fic #queen #freddie mercury #brian may #roger taylor #joe mazzello

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youre-in-the-psycho-circus · 3 years

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Hey guys!! If you could, could you please take a second to reblog my work, especially if you’re reading Nine Months? It’s not been showing up in the tags for whatever reason and I’m absolutely gutted about it 😫

#ben hardy #queen #roger taylor #ben hardy! roger taylor #nine months #bass-ic-deaky #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody fanfic #bohemian rapsody cast #queen fandom #queen fanfic #ben!roger #brian may #joe mazzello #rami malak #gwilym lee #john deacon #freddie balsara #freddie mercury

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jmeddows2 · 5 years

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Hot Space (Roger Taylor Series) - Part 1

Roger Taylor x Reader

Notes: Sorry for grammar mistakes/ weird sentence structures. English is not my first language but anyways, I gave it a go. Enjoy and feel free to submit requests, feedback etc.

Words: 1577

Chapter 1:

“He says he wants you, NO and now I quote: he needs you” your manager, Daphne told you and your band in the scruffy little office of ‘Rough Trade Records’. It was actually a quite rainy day in London, the usual. December 16th, 1981 to be exact. What a time to be alive and additionally to be an 18-year-old, female vocalist of a fairly successful band (at least in the UK), in a male dominated field. Your band also consisted of Nic on lead guitar, Matty on the bass, Jacob on the drums and Chris on the piano. “What are you talking about? And who are you even talking about Daph?”, you asked her totally clueless.

Daphne continued: “Freddie fucking Mercury.”

The room was silent, you could hear a pin drop, as Jacob decided to speak up: “you’re kidding, right? I mean, you can’t be real right now! He doesn’t even know we exist, does he? Daph??“

Wow, you’ve never seen Jacob this nervous and excited at the same time before, as he’s usually always the tough guy, but his behavior right now makes you giggle.

“(Y/N), this is a huge deal, Freddie wants you as Queen’s support act for their upcoming ‘Hot Space’ tour which starts in April and ends in November as of next year. We’re not talking about old, little, dirty clubs and pubs in England. This is another level! Europe. The US. Canada. Hell, even Japan. You have the potential, take this opportunity, I believe in you guys! “

Daphne’s words left you speechless. Not only was Queen your biggest influence while growing up, but it seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity to tour the world, even if it’s just as a support act.

While the rest of the band all agreed to do the tour - without any hesitation, they were still expectedly waiting for your answer.

“Guys, you should really really, really know me by now - of course the answer is yes, I can’t believe this is actually happening. “

“Perfect, then it’s settled, I’ll get it contact with Jim Beach, Queen’s manager to arrange your first official meeting“ Daphne informed us.

“Oh my lord what was that, I need a drink now“ „Fuck, me too, Nic“, you said and with that you 5 went to the pub right down the road, still unaware of all the things that were still to come.

January 4th 1982 Jim Beach’s office, London:

“Happy New Year Lady and Gentlemen“, Jim Beach greeted us, “they’ll be here soon, but don’t freak out, I see you right there" he pointed to Jacob who was bouncing his leg up and down rather nervously, which made us laugh.

The laughter was cut off when the door swung open and there he was, in all his glory: Mr. Mercury, he was even more remarkable in person and the other three band members followed right closely behind.

“You’re on time, that is what I value the most, my dears", Freddie giggled.

“Wow, very nice to meet you Freddie, ahh, Mr. Mercury, sorry“ you blushed.

“Oh no darling, it’s Freddie for you and it’s nice to meet YOU, all of you! “ he pointed to the other band ,members as well.

“I’ve been following your music for a while now and I have to say it’s brilliant! Can’t wait to hear what else you have in store. “

In the corner of your eye you saw Jacob who was close to fainting because of his excitement. After hugging you, Freddie moved on to greet your other band members, when Brian walked up to you: “Hi I’m Bri, so nice to meet you, I like your hair by the way. “

‘Could this get any better?’ you thought to yourself when John walked up very shyly : “I’m John, nice to meet you.“ And then there he was, even more beautiful in real life, than you remembered him, from the posters, that your childhood bedroom was plastered with. His hair was now shorter but his eyes, wow, you really could get lost in them.

He bat his eyelashes: "We’re going so have much fun! “ He knew he didn’t have to introduce himself and his cocky behavior was definitely not what you expected. At this point you could just hope that he wasn’t going to act like this for the upcoming months. The rest of the meeting was simply just chatting and discussing the cities, in which the tour was going to take place. Before you could leave the office, Freddie made and announcement:

“My darlings, to break the ice I would love to invite you all to my party tonight, 9 pm, don’t be late or you’ll get fired! I’m just joking, Jacob darling, don’t look so frightened, bloody hell! “

You glanced at Roger only to look away quickly once he shoots you a cheeky wink.

Back in your flat:

“Julia I’ve got nothing to wear, I’ve heard so much about their wild parties, I don’t know what I got myself into. “your roommate answered: “(Y/N), would you calm down for a bloody second? You’ve got plenty of stuff to wear that would sweep them off their feet, but you can borrow some of mine and second, you know all about wild parties, don’t act so innocent now. Remember your 16th birthday party when Patr- “

“Stop talking about my bloody ex-boyfriend, Julia, that cheating, lying bastard. “

“See, at least I distracted you “, Julia defended herself. You chose to borrow a black skintight, short dress which reached just below your bum and showed off your curves and cleavage perfectly. Additionally, Julia helped you curl your long blonde hair, while you decided to go for a winged eyeliner and dark purple lipstick. Satisfied, you took one last glance in the mirror, Julia hugged you goodbye and as you were about to call yourself a cab, the doorbell rang.

“Hello there, may I help you?" you asked the uniformed man at the door. “Are you (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)? “he asked. “Yeah that’s me"

"I’m here to pick you up for Mr. Mercury’s party “, right then you noticed the luxurious white limo parked outside. After a 20-minute drive you arrived at Garden Lodge and wow, what sight. The house was huge and beautifully decorated, there were hundreds of people, dancing, drinking, snorting cocaine off of silver trays and there he was, Roger, leaning against a wall being surrounded by 5 girls who were throwing themselves at him. You scoffed and spotted your band members who were engaged in a conversation with John and Brian.

"Hi (Y/N), here!!“, Nic waved you over to them. “You look beautiful tonight “John complemented you and you thanked him politely. “How’d you get here?", Chris, your pianist asked. "Believe it or not, I had a limo waiting for me outside, boys" you told them.

"A what? I can’t believe it, what about us??“, Jacob acted fake hurt and put a hand on his heart to be overdramatic, which made us laugh. Deaky and Brian exchanged a suspicious look, as if they knew that something was up, but you shrugged it off. Suddenly, people began to cheer, as this could only mean one thing: Freddie is here. And there he was, strutting through the crowd with a velvet king’s cape on and a crown on his head. He truly was a king.

“Darlings you’re here and wow you look dashing, doesn’t she look dashing? “ Freddie eyed you from head to toe. “We should really go on a shopping trip sometime, we’ll have loads of opportunities on tour, my darling, but for now, let’s dance!“ With that he literally dragged you to the dance floor and after a few songs you managed to catch your breath. “Oh and Freddie thank you for the limo, you really didn’t have to send one to my flat, I could have gotten a cab! “ “What limo? I didn’t send a limo to your house! “ “Huh? But who did then? “, you asked, your eyes quickly followed to where he was pointing at. Roger already had his eyes on you, still surrounded by 5 girls, but he didn’t give them any attention. “Careful though darling, he bites” Freddie laughed and shot you a wink.

Exhausted from dancing, you decided to join the bar when you heard a familiar voice say: “What are you having? Let me buy you a drink, love. “ It was Roger, of course it was Roger. “Look, if you think I’ll sleep with you tonight I can garant- “ “Who said I want to have sex with you? I mean you look beautiful I must say, but I wouldn’t go that far, at least not right now. “ “A limo? Really, why? “, you asked trying to hide your embarrassment. “Why not? “, he asked. “You’re now on a ride with your majesty herself, wanted to give you a taste, might as well enjoy it while you can, love “, he said with a cheeky smile and ordered a few shots. “Look I’m going to be honest with you, it’s a real pleasure to be working with you guys. I hope we can get along without playing any sick games of yours, Taylor. “ “Feisty, I’m intimidated “, he shot you a wink.

You rolled your eyes and downed the first shot, then the second, third, fourth, until you lost count.

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #Brian May #freddie mercury #John Deacon #hot space #rock band #Queen #hot space tour #1982

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xlostinobsessionsx · 3 years

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Good Girls are Bad Girls that haven't been Caught | Luke Patterson

Pairing: alive! 1995! Luke Patterson x fem! Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4,038

A/N: A big thank you goes to @bass-ic-deaky for proof-reading and making this fic much more vibrant! 💖

This fic is based on "Good Girls" by 5 Seconds of Summer.

Masterlist

Luke and (Y/N) knew each other since they were kids. They had been neighbors since childhood, so it wasn’t uncommon for them to be playing with each other in their adjoining backyards most days. But time went by and slowly they got older. On his 8th birthday, Luke had gotten a guitar and quickly realised his dream of becoming a rock star. After meeting Alex Mercer and Reggie Peters in middle school, the dream slowly became reality. Sunset Curve was born. (Y/N), on the other hand, took on violin instead.

As time passed, they slowly began to grow apart. One would describe Luke’s style of music and dress as more rock n’ roll grunge. (Y/N), however, looked the total opposite, elegant, poised, which could also be heard through her playing throughout the neighborhood. (Y/N) listened to classical music and took ballet lessons while Luke continued his guitar lessons and went to ice hockey practice. It seemed like after all this time, the two had nothing in common anymore.

Now they were in high school and they barely knew the other existed anymore. The only times Luke saw (Y/N), even though they were still neighbours, was when they ran into each other in the hall or if they just so happened to leave for school at the same time, which these days was very rare. (Y/N) was quite the early riser, and was often already off on her way while Luke was still lying in bed half asleep. Though they had two classes together, they hardly spoke to each other. It was as if their friendship before this had meant nothing.

Sometimes Luke missed the old days. Back then, (Y/N) didn’t seem too different from him. He could still remember them sitting in his treehouse, sharing gummy bears and listening to an old Led Zeppelin album. Now all she ever seemed interested in was studying. But even despite their different paths, they talked to each other from time to time. Their parents, on the other hand, were still very close. Occasionally they met at one of their homes, cooked together, talked about their jobs and even more so about their kids. Luke had learned from his parents that (Y/N) planned to go to Harvard once they graduated. Of course, when they told him that, he couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. He knew his parents wished he had the same or at least similar plans for his life. But Sunset Curve was finally starting to take off. After they played their first gig at a small bar in L. A., more and more bars and clubs were willing to let them perform. Luke had loved rehearsals before, now they were even more fun, especially knowing that they’d get to perform their new songs in front of more people than just Bobby’s parents. Bobby became a part of the band when he moved to L. A. four years after they had formed. With Bobby’s arrival the band not only found a rhythm guitarist, but also a place to rehearse. Before that, they had to rehearse in Reggie’s basement, between boxes and useless junk. Then of course his parents constantly fighting upstairs didn’t make for the best working environment.

Whenever Luke fought with his parents and just needed space to clear his head, there was no better place for him than a small shed in Bobby’s backyard which they had affectionately dubbed their studio. The words from his parents still rang in his ears as he pulled out his bike, guitar case slung over his back.

“Why can’t you be more like (Y/N)?! She has good grades and a bright future at Harvard!” His mother had wailed.

“Being a rockstar is not a realistic goal, it won’t bring you any money or stability.” His father tried to convince him.

Every time it was always the same. Luke jumped onto his bike and made his way through the backyard towards the gate, when he stopped in his tracks. In the corner of his eyes he could make out a dark figure, running through the yard next to his. At the end of the driveway, he could make out the lights of a car, shining through the trees and the figure running towards it. When the figure finally came into the light, Luke could finally see who it was. She turned around, taking one last look at the house behind her before she opened the car door and got in before promptly speeding off into the darkness. Who did (Y/N) just leave with?

Luke was tired the next morning. Despite spending the night in the studio, far away from the trouble with his parents, the young guitarist hadn’t slept a wink. His mind was racing with thoughts of (Y/N) and the mysterious person she had left with. During their lunch break at school, he told his band members of the encounter. “Wait, you mean to tell us that (Y/N), the definition of the perfect daughter, snuck out?” Bobby asked in disbelief.

Luke nodded. “Yep, got into a car with someone. Can’t say for certain who it was.” The eyes of the four guys wandered to said girl, who was sitting with her friends at a table not far away from their own.

“I’ll dip into the school gossip and see what I can find out. I’ll deliver the goods.” Alex smirked. And deliver he did at their band practice later that day. “So you know Tori, the girl who sits next to me in chem class and never shuts up? She told me that she heard from one of her friends, who was told by one of his friends that (Y/N) was spotted with Brandon Jones in the back of the library.”

“Brandon Jones?” Luke asked with a raised eyebrow.

Alex nodded “Yeah, the captain of the football team who always drives a really expensive car.”

“How do they even know each other? Isn’t he usually on the brink of suspension?” Reggie asked curiously to which Alex shrugged.

“Well, well, well, seems like your little (Y/N) likes bad boys, Luke.” Bobby laughed, while throwing an arm around Luke’s shoulders.

Luke quickly shrugged it off with a grimace. “She’s not my (Y/N).” He snapped. “It just surprises me that she sneaks out to meet him. That doesn’t sound like her.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you know her so well after barely talking to her for years and only making eyes at her from afar.” Bobby countered.

“I’m not making eyes at her!” The guitarist defended himself much too quickly to be believable. Back in the day when he still was friends with (Y/N), he may have had the tiniest of crushes on her. Luke had to admit that (Y/N) was indeed very beautiful, but he most certainly wasn’t making eyes at her as Bobby had suggested.

A few days passed. Luke sped through the house looking for his jacket so he could get going to band practice, which he was already running late for. “Mom, Dad. I’m going to Bobby’s” He shouted through the house, hoping his parents had heard him. Finally finding his jacket under his bed, he shrugged it on as he made his way through the kitchen.

He was about to open the back door, when his mom appeared behind him. “Don’t you have a french test to study for? (Y/N)’s father told me about it.” Emily looked expectantly at her son, arms crossed over her chest.

Luke rolled his eyes and turned around. “Yeah, that’s why I’m going to Bobby’s. We’re gonna study together.” He lied convincingly.

Emily nodded slowly, a bit skeptical. “(Y/N) studies every night alone and gets good grades. Maybe if you would just concentrate more, you could study alone, too.” Emily suggested. Luke laughed silently. (Y/N) studying every night? That was rich, if only her parents really knew their daughter.

Luke mentally shook his head out. “Sure, but Bobby is better in french than I am. So he can help me. Work smarter not harder, isn’t that what they say?” He shrugged.

Emily looked at him thoughtfully. “You could study with (Y/N). She’s nearly fluent in French now.”

Luke nodded, a slight laugh escaping his lips as he opened the door. “I’ll think about it, alright? Now I really have to go!” He quickly said and made his way outside, slamming the door behind him. He couldn’t be late, after all Sunset Curve was playing another gig tonight. Luke took his bike from its spot against the fence and made his way towards the gate to the front yard when he suddenly saw a figure out of the corner of his eye again. Her hair was flowing in the wind as she quickly made her way through the darkened yard only this time instead of just watching, Luke went after her. Before (Y/N) could reach the car that was waiting for her behind the trees, Luke touched her shoulder. Startled, she let out a yelp of surprise as she spun around. “(Y/N)?”

“L-Luke...hey.” She laughed nervously.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked her confused, he was half expecting her to be up in her room studying like the perfect little princess she was.

(Y/N) clasped at his wrist and pulled him behind the trees, out of the sight of her house. “Don’t you dare tell my parents about this!” She hissed at the guitarist through gritted teeth.

Luke laughed. “What? That their little princess is sneaking out?”

“I’m not a princess!” She angrily countered.

Luke shook his head “Nah, you’re right, you’re clearly the living definition of a goody-two-shoes. Such a good girl, eager to please.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes “You clearly forget everything you thought about good girls.”

Luke furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

Suddenly a voice interrupted both of them “(Y/N) you’re coming?” Brandon Jones, cool as ever with a cigarette poised elegantly between his lips, sat in the car beside them, looking with raised eyebrows at the girl in front of Luke.

(Y/N)’s gaze wandered between the two boys “I gotta go.” She murmured as she opened the car door. But before getting inside she paused and turned to Luke again. “Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught.” She winked as she got into the car immediately rolling down the window. “Now be a good boy and just turn around and forget about this encounter, alright?”. With that, she sped off leaving the guitarist standing there dumbfounded. Luke shook his head in disbelief, what had just happened?

When he arrived at Bobby’s, (Y/N) words were still running laps through Luke’s head. He was quick to tell the rhythm guitarist about the encounter. “‘Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught’.” Bobby murmured.

Luke nodded. “That’s what she said. Sounds pretty rad don’t you think?” He looked at the other guitarist who nodded in agreement. “Yeah...” Suddenly it was extremely and rather awkwardly quiet. “Do you think that they-” Luke started.

“Are seeing each other?” Bobby finished his friend’s question, the lead guitarist nodding in confirmation. “Would it matter?”

Luke shrugged. “I mean, I just don’t want her to see her being pressured into something she doesn’t want to.”

Bobby laughed quietly. “OR you just don’t want her doing anything with Brandon.”

“Okay, I am definitely not jealous!” Luke countered, shaking his head.

“I never said you were, but now that you mention it…”

“Oh shut up...besides I’ve barely spoken to her in years!”

“But people don’t really change that much!” Bobby countered.

Luke huffed dramatically. “Well she did!”

“I don’t know about that, bro. Sneaking out? Doesn’t really sound like the (Y/N) we know from school.” He paused a moment. “The (Y/N) you knew when you were younger, the one you’ve told me about, that’s her down to the letter.” He shrugged as rose from his spot. “But enough about this. We’ve gotta go pick up Alex and Reggie. Otherwise we’re going to be late!” Luke quickly nodded, grabbing his guitar before following Bobby outside.

The club was completely packed with people. Luke could hear the audience’s chattering from backstage. “This is so cool!” Reggie excitedly said after taking a look through the club. “There are so many people here from school, too!”

Luke took a deep breath. Adrenaline was starting to course through his veins. He could practically hear his heart beating in his chest as the band made their way onto the stage. He blinked a few times as he tried to get used to the spotlights. His gaze drifted down through the crowd in front of them as they quickly set themselves up. Suddenly he stopped. At the back, right next to the bar, there she was standing. Their eyes met and a small smile played around her lips. Luke laughed to himself quietly before taking a step closer to the mic. “We’re Sunset Curve!”

After their gig, Luke made his way through the crowd. Everytime someone patted his shoulder to tell him how good they were, she nodded thankfully but his eyes always stayed fixated on (Y/N). When he finally stood in front of her a giggle left her lips “Good show, Patterson.”

He smirked, leaning against the bar. “Thanks.”

“Just like we imagined when we were kids.” She slightly bumped against his shoulder.

The guitarist felt his heart beat faster at this. Nervously he rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess.”

“So that’s what you’ve been up to all this time...?” She quietly asked, her gaze drifting through the crowd. Luke nodded in reply. “And soon you’re gonna be famous!” She smiled suddenly much more excited.

Luke laughed “I think that’s still a long way off. What about you? What’ve you been up to?” He asked her curiously.

“Oh, you know violin and ballet lessons, the usual. I haven’t told my parents yet that I’m sick of it!” She nonchalantly took a sip from her coke and looked at him.

Luke furrowed his brows, he was genuinely confused. “I thought that’s what you liked? I mean you got your violin around the same time I got my guitar.”

(Y/N) shook her head “I practically begged my parents to get me an electric bass so we could form a band but they got me a violin. Said it would be better for me.”

Luke was surprised at those words. “A band?” He saw (Y/N)’s cheeks taking on a pink shade.

She shrugged. “Like Led Zeppelin.” Suddenly ‘Whole Lotta Love’ started to blast through the speakers of the club. (Y/N) laughed “That’s creepy. Like they’ve been listening to us talk about it.”

But Luke barely listened to her. Instead he had been transported back to 1987. He had just found the old Led Zeppelin EP in one of his dad’s boxes he kept into the attic. He had immediately called (Y/N) to meet him in the treehouse. They had been listening to the songs when suddenly (Y/N) had told him about her best female friend (Y/F/N), who had told her that she had kissed Fynn, a boy from their class. “Like a real kiss? On their lips?” Luke had asked with wide eyes. He, of course, had asked her if she ever had kissed a boy on the lips. (Y/N) had admitted that she had never. In her childish recklessness, or could it be her boldness, she had told him that he was the only one who she would have wanted to kiss. Luke remembered how nervous he had been, when (Y/N) had leaned in, ‘Whole Lotta Love’ playing in the background when their lips touched but for a short second.

Luke looked wide-eyed at the girl in front of him, who didn’t know the memory that was playing in his head at the moment. His gaze fell from her eyes to her lips. Maybe Bobby had been right. Maybe (Y/N) hadn’t really changed that much and maybe he still had those feelings he had for her when he was smaller. He quickly shook his head. He couldn’t have those thoughts. (Y/N) was here with someone else. “So where’s your shadow?” He asked, referring to Brandon. He turned to the bar to order a coke.

She sighed “Having a smoke.”

“Already missing him?” He laughed.

(Y/N) huffed, slightly annoyed. “Yeah, sure.”

“I thought you were a thing?” Luke asked, turning to her again.

(Y/N) furrowed her brows “Who told you that?”

“Nobody. I just thought because you always sneak out to meet him and because you’re here together…?” He shrugged.

(Y/N) laughed. “No, I mean it’s fun to hang out but I would never...I mean...he’s a player and only plays with girls.”

Luke looked at her amused. “So you’re just hanging out with him for the sake of hanging out?” (Y/N) nodded.

“I was just tired of everything. Of my life. It seemed like a good escape, you know? But now...it’s really hard to make it clear to him that nothing will ever happen.”

“Just be careful, alright? I don’t think he’ll let you get off the hook so easy.”

(Y/N) shook her head “Soon he’ll get tired of me and look for someone else.”

“And what about you then?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath and turned to him, something obviously weighing heavily on her mind. “Luke, I-” She started, but before she could finish her sentence they were interrupted as an arm found his way around (Y/N) shoulder.

“I’m back.” Brandon smirked, eying Luke suspiciously.

“Hey Brandon.” Luke smirked, annoyance evident in his gaze, before turning to (Y/N) again. “It was nice catching up, (Y/N). See ya around.” With that he made his way through the crowd, trying to stop himself from thinking about (Y/N).

Days passed. Once again, Luke barely saw (Y/N) apart from their classes. He was sitting in his room, writing down the lyrics to a song that had been stuck in his mind for days, when suddenly the doorbell rang. He ran down the hall of the family’s ranch style home and was met with her beautiful eyes, when he opened the door. “(Y/N)! So good to see you!” Emily greeted with a big smile, appearing behind Luke. “Come on in.” Luke stepped aside to let the girl inside. With a questioning glance, he looked to his mother. “I called (Y/N)’s parents to ask if she could help you in french. I think that would be better than having to go all the way to Bobby’s, right?”

Luke nodded slowly “Uhm, yeah. Sounds good. Uhm, we could go into my room?” He suggested, looking at Emily.

His mother nodded “Yes, but leave the door open. I’ll bring you some snacks.”

Luke nodded in agreement and turned to (Y/N). “Shall we?” (Y/N) nodded in reply and followed him down the hall to his bedroom. “Take a seat, I guess.” He pointed to the chair in front of his desk as he took a seat on the bed. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping you in french.” She laughed.

Luke nodded slowly, a sly, teasing smirk appearing on his face. “And, uh, is Brandon alright with you hanging out with me?”

“Who cares?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the mention of his name. “Right after your concert I told him I couldn’t see him anymore.”

Luke furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“As I already told you, at first it was just an escape but...he wanted to do more the entire time and I just didn’t want to...at least not with him.” She laughed.

Luke looked at her, a playful glint in his eye. “Not with him, huh? So someone else has caught your eye then?” he laughed.

(Y/N) shrugged, casting her glance downward. “Maybe. But that won’t happen, so…”

“Why not?”

(Y/N) sighed, nervously keeping her gaze trained to the ground, before looking up at him again. “Luke...you see...I know we haven’t had that much contact over the last few years, but...I wish it was different and I’m sorry. I thought...well I had hoped...“ She paused, inhaling deeply. “Maybe we could start over? Being friends again?” She asked, hope evident in her voice.

Suddenly Luke felt his heartbeat just a tiny bit faster. “Friends?” He croaked, before clearing his throat. “You mean like back in the day?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah, and uhm maybe…” She nervously played with the necklace around her neck. Luke’s eyes drifted to the pendant. It was the necklace he had given her when she had turned seven. Inside it he had put a picture of the both of them. (Y/N) eyes softened when she saw what Luke was looking at. She took the chain from around her neck and slowly took his hand, placing it in his palm. She looked expectantly at it before looking up at him. Luke opened it and found himself looking at his and (Y/N)’s younger selves. In the picture he had his arm slung around her shoulders. Both of them were smiling brightly.

Luke sighed as he smiled at the memory of that day. “I had a little crush on you back then.” He admitted quietly, staring at the toothy grin of her younger version.

“You did?” (Y/N) asked.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving the picture. “I was so sad when we stopped talking, but it...it had just happened, right?”

“I wish it hadn’t...I uh...I had a crush on you, too.” she murmured.

Luke laughed quietly, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. “So if we want to go back to how it was then…”

“You would have a crush on me?” (Y/N) smiled hopefully.

Luke shrugged. “Maybe I still do.” He felt his cheeks heating up as (Y/N) clasped at his hands.

“Maybe I still have a crush on you, too.”

Luke’s heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. His eyes met (Y/N)’s and he couldn’t stop his smile from growing wider if that was even possible. “Just maybe?” He asked cheekily, as he slowly leaned in closer.

“Alright, so definitely.” (Y/N) giggled as their lips connected in a tender kiss.

“Please, you have to come!” Luke whispered into the phone in the kitchen where the landline was. It was already dark inside the house, his parents already having turned in for the night.

“Okay, fine. But you tell my parents that you have a good influence on me the next time they see us.” She laughed through the speaker, before hanging up.

They met behind the trees at the back of their yards. He leaned in to greet her with a short kiss. “I missed you.” He murmured, hiding his face into her neck.

“We just saw each other a few hours ago.” (Y/N) laughed.

“That’s so long ago!” He countered as Luke got onto his bike and looked expectantly at (Y/N), who stood on the tire spokes behind him. “Hold on tight!”

The venue was filled with people dancing and chattering. (Y/N) followed Luke to the side of the stage. “Stay here so you’ll have a good view of the stage and that way I can see you, too.” He said, looking at her with a wide smile.

“Knock ‘Em dead, rockstar!” She beamed at him, leaning in to give him a good-luck kiss.

“Alright, enough of that lovebirds. We gotta go!” Bobby laughed, interrupting the cute moment pushing Luke toward the stage.

Reggie smiled at them. “Look at all the people! It’s gonna be sick!”

Alex shrugged nervously. “I hope they like us...”

(Y/N) smiled at the other band members “You’re gonna rock this, I’m sure of it!” She hugged them and wished them good luck, before the band went onto the stage.

Luke’s gaze immediately fell to his girlfriend, who gave him a thumbs-up. He winked at her before getting closer to the mic. ��Hey, we’re Sunset Curve, thank you for having us.” The crowd erupted in cheers. “Thank you.” He laughed “We directly wanna start with a new song. It’s inspired by a person who means the world to me.” His gaze fell to (Y/N) again, who was smiling at him. “It’s called Good Girls/Bad Girls.”

“She said to me forget what you’ve thought, cause good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught.”

#luke patterson #charlie gillespie #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson oneshot #luke patterson x fem!reader #jatp #julie and the phantoms #sunset curve

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killaqceen · 5 years

Text

Deaky: *writes one of the greatest bass lines for under pressure*

Vanilla ice:

I don't know if this has been done before

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goodoldfashionedqueen · 5 years

Text

You’ll be the Lonely One: Chapter 4

Roger Taylor x Reader x Sam Kiszka

Masterlist

Enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing

2.6k

“So, what’d you think?” Sam asked as he came stumbling towards you from the stage.

“Josh’s voice is quite something.” You said opening your mouth in awe as you shook your head.

“We try to not let it get to his head.” Sam said walking past you taking his bass off his shoulders.

Following him further backstage, there was a ton of people running around with lights and stage set up objects.

You were used to all of the chaos. When backstage at one of Queen’s concerts, it was about 50 times worse than this.

You saw Josh talking to a group of people, and while you couldn’t make out any of his words, he was making many theatrical hand movements. Jake was talking to a girl, and showing her his guitar. And Danny was busy helping some of the crew pack up his drum kit.

As you were looking through the sea of people, a hand linked its fingers with your own.

You looked down at your hand, then up at Sam, who was the one holding your hand.

“I thought you looked a bit flustered!” He yelled over the loud noises.

You knew that was total bullshit, being backstage was one of your favourite parts of being a groupie. The loud talking and music heightened your adrenaline, and you always had the biggest grin on your face.

Sam just wanted to hold your hand.

You smiled and bit your lip.

“Thanks, Sam.” You said giving his hand a squeeze.

“Any day.” He said grinning at you. “Hey, do you want to head up front to get a drink?” He asked ruffling his hair as he looked around.

“Definitely.” You said as Sam began leading you towards the bar.

…

(flashback to Roger’s experience during the concert.)

“Where the hell is she?!” Roger exclaimed slamming his drink down on a table.

“She probably got caught up in the crowd.” Brian said grabbing some napkins to clean up Roger’s mess.

Roger sat back in his chair squeezing his fists tightly.

“I just don’t get it.” Roger whined.

“Don’t get what?” Freddie asked sipping his drink.

“Her!” He yelled hitting the arms of his chair. “I- I tell her I won’t be with another girl tonight and – and she just totally fucking blows me off! And for what?! This shit?” Roger scoffed as he pointed to Greta Van Fleet on the stage.

“I actually think their quite cool.” Deaky chimed in.

“Oh yeah, you would.” Roger snapped.

“Rog, from my understanding, she’s not here for you tonight. And yes, she did come for that.” Freddie mimicked Roger pointing back at the stage.

Roger followed Freddie’s hand and saw Sam up on the stage. He looked really cool, and that pissed Roger off.

Anytime you had taken an interest in another guy, they would’ve been some geeky idiot or a prissy momma’s boy. Nothing would usually compare to Roger, and the impact he had on you. But this guy Sam was different, Roger knew that, and it scared the shit out of him.

“I need another fucking drink.” Roger said as he abruptly stood up and began walking towards the bar.

Before he could make it past the table, Brian stood up and grabbed his arm.

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret Roger.” Brian said under his breath.

“I’m not doing shit.” Roger spat yanking his arm away from Brian.

Making his way to the bar, Roger briefly glanced up to the side of the stage. He saw a woman in white, and didn’t think much of it at first, but looked up again and saw you.

He froze and stopped walking when he realized it was you.

There you stood, on the side of the stage, dancing to the music his band was playing. You weren’t looking at Roger, you were looking at him. The sight made Roger feel sick. He turned back towards the direction of the bar and walked over to the counter.

“What can I get-“ The bartender began.

“Whiskey. Straight.” He quickly said turning back at the stage to check if you we’re still really there.

You were.

The bartender placed the drink in front of Roger, wincing as he turned away from you to face the bar again.

Swigging his drink, he pushed it back over to the bartender.

“Again.” He said slamming his fists on the bar counter.

…

“So, do you still write?” Sam said looking up at you as he took a sip of his drink.

You had been telling Sam about your life before Queen.

“Not as much as I would like too,” You glanced down at the floor, then back up at Sam. “I’ll help the boys with their songs from time to time, but it’s nothing serious.”

“I would love to read something of yours.” Sam said smiling at you.

“Oh god, I don’t know what there is to show.” You said reaching for your drink.

Sam stopped your hand with his own. “I’m sure you can come up with something.”

You just looked at each other, with his hand on still on your arm.

“Sorry to interrupt.” A voice said, which startled you and Sam. “Well actually, I’m not that sorry.”

You looked to your right, and saw Roger standing with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“Hello Roger.” You said as you moved your arm away from Sam’s hand.

“Love.” He said placing his arm behind you so it was resting on the bar. “This must be Sam.” Roger said pointing at Sam with his bottle of whiskey.

“Yeah I’m Sam it’s nice to meet you.” Sam extended his hand towards Roger.

Roger just ignored Sam’s gesture and turned to look at you.

“Where were you?” Roger said, you could smell the alcohol on his breath as he moved closer to you.

He knew exactly where you were, but he wanted you to tell him yourself.

“What do you mean where was I?” You asked him.

“During the concert. Where were you.” He tone was turning more serious.

“I was watching from backstage, I should have come to tell you but-“ Roger interrupted you.

“You’re right, you should have.” He said leaning his head back and taking a drink from his bottle.

“Hey look man, that was my fault, I told Y/N to come watch the show backstage.” Sam said standing up from his barstool.

Now he had Roger’s attention.

Roger broke his eye contact with you and slowly turned to look at Sam. He scoffed and rubbed his chin with his hand. He stared at Sam for a while, then turned back towards you.

“You were with him then.”

“Roger, I was just watching from the side of the stage. I’m sorry if I upset you.” You said placing your hand on his shoulder, which he rejected and brushed your hand off aggressively.

“I wanted to spend time with you.” He breathed out.

“I didn’t realize that, you never said anything.” You said getting up from your seat.

“I didn’t think I had too!” He said raising his voice.

“Ok I think everyone just needs to calm down.” Sam said stepping between you and Roger.

“Sam’s right Roger, you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

Hearing you say his name pissed Roger off even more.

“Maybe you should go.” Sam said.

Roger looked at Sam pursing his lips, then back at you.

His eyes were asking you to say anything, just something that would let him stay.

You said nothing.

He was hurt and broke your eye contact as he looked at the floor.

“Ok.” He said beginning to turn away from you and Sam.

A wave of relief fell over you, you thought he was going to hit Sam.

And you were right.

Roger turned back towards the two of you dropping his bottle of whiskey, and punched Sam across the face.

Sam stumbled backwards crashing into a table. Though he was quick to get back up and head back towards Roger.

Before he could you, stepped between them, placing your hands on their chests to keep them apart.

“Stop!” You shouted. “This is fucking ridiculous.” You breathed heavily.

You turned to look at Sam. Roger had gotten him pretty good.

“Sam you’re bleeding, go deal with that.” You said moving your hand off his chest.

“Y/N.” He said moving close to you.

“I’ll come find you later, but you need to let me deal with this.” You said so only he could hear.

“Alright, I’m going” He turned away from you and headed into the back of the bar.

“What is he? Your boyfriend?” Roger asked.

“I’ve known him for two days, Roger. I just enjoy hanging out with him.” You replied turning to him.

“Last time I checked two days was enough time for you to really get to know someone.” He spat.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You asked stepping closer to him.

“I think you know exactly what I mean.” He whispered.

You scoffed.

“You’re drunk, Roger.”

“I’m not drunk.” He argued.

“Well I hoped you wouldn’t ever say that to me sober.” You said tears forming in your eyes.

“Y/N.” He began.

“Just go.”

“I didn’t mean to say that.” He cupped his hand on your cheek.

“Don’t touch me Roger.” You said sternly, moving his hand off your cheek.

He stepped back from you.

“I wasn’t thinking straight, Y/N, it’s just seeing you with him-“ He paused moving his hand through his hair.

“Roger, go.” You repeated.

“Fine.” He breathed out.

You watched him walk towards the exit, grabbing a girl before he walked out the door.

Tears fell from your eyes, and you quickly raised your hands to wipe them away. Smoothing your hands over your dress, you walked to the back of the bar, where Sam had gone.

Opening the door to the back you saw Sam in the bar’s kitchen holding a cloth up to his cheek where Roger had punched him.

“I am so sorry about Roger.” You said hurrying over to Sam. “He gets a little out of control when he drinks too much.” You began touching his cheek.

“Ow!” He winced in pain. “Be a little more careful.”

“Sorry,” You said moving your hands back, being gentler. “You need ice. Is there any in here?” You said looking around the room.

Sam began to laugh.

“What?” You asked confusedly.

“You’re in a bar, and you just asked if we have ice.” He said chuckling.

“Just tell me where the ice is.” You said with a smile on your face.

“In the freezer I hope.” He said pointing at the fridge freezer sitting in the corner of the kitchen.

“Right.” You looked at the freezer. “Give me your cloth.”

Sam handed you the cloth and you walked over to the freezer, placing some pieces of ice in the cloth and wrapping it up. Walking back over to Sam you held the ice over his cheek.

“Is that better?” You asked Sam while looking at the ice.

Sam watched you intently looking at his cheek, and it made him smile. “Much better.” He said placing his hand over yours.

His fingertips felt calloused from playing the bass. You looked at him and noticed he was smiling at you.

His smile made you smile.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Nothing, you’re just so beautiful.

You laughed. “That was so fucking cheesy.”

“Y/N.” He said squeezing your hand.

Your heart was beating fast. The way Sam was looking at you made your stomach flip.

“Yeah?” You said looking back at his cheek.

“Y/N.” He said your name again, moving both of your hands off of his cheek placing the ice down on the kitchen counter, taking your hand back in his. “I’m being serious.”

You were looking down at the floor now, and your head was spinning.

Sam moved one of his hands to your chin, and lifted your face so you were looking at his.

“Sam.” You whispered.

“Mhmm.” He mumbled as he began to lean in towards you.

You had never been so close to him.

You never noticed how dark his eyes were.

You never noticed he smelled like cinnamon and cologne.

You moved you arm so it was around his shoulder, and pulled yourself closer to him. Sam began to move his hand from your chin to your cheek, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.

His eyes moved down to your lips.

He slowly began to move in.

As his lips lingered over yours, your eyes fluttered shut.

He was breathing heavily, and you raised empty hand up to his chest. His heart was beating just as fast as yours.

When your lips finally touched, it felt as if you were being lifted up into the air.

You moved your hand from his chest to his hair, running your fingers through it.

Sam stroked your face as the kiss grew deeper. His other hand tightening around your waist.

You liked being this close to him, he made you feel happy and safe.

Sam pulled his lips back keeping his hands on you.

He was smiling.

“What are you doing?” You said smiling back.

“Will you go on a date with me?” He said barely above a whisper.

The smile on your face grew even bigger.

You nodded your head.

“Yes?” He questioned.

“Yes.” You said biting your lip.

Sam picked you up, and you squealed wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“How many times do you have to pick me up?!”

“Not sure yet.” He said.

“Put me down!” you yelled.

Sam put you down and began to pull you towards him again.

“I HEARD YOU WERE PUNCHED!” Josh said bursting through the kitchen doors.

You quickly grabbed the ice – which was now half melted - and placed it back on Sam’s cheek.

Josh walked over to the two of you. “Well, you guys are close.” He said gesturing to Sam’s arm wrapped around your waist.

“Yeah uh we were-“ Sam began to say.

“There’s no need Sam. I think I understand perfectly.” Josh said with a smirk on his face.

You placed the ice back down on the counter, and Sam moved his arm from your waist.

“It’s late, I should get going.” You said.

“Alright.” Sam said rubbing his lips with his hand.

“Here’s my phone number, call me to let me know how your cheek is.” You said scribbling down your number on a receipt that was in your pocket.

Handing the receipt to Sam you winked at him, because you both knew you wanted him to call for other reasons.

“I’ll see you later.” You said walking towards the door.

Sam nodded.

“Bye Josh.” You waved your hand in the air.

“Goodbye Y/N.” Josh said smiling.

You walked out of the bar’s kitchen back into the main bar.

You couldn’t stop smiling.

Just before you walked out of the bar, an arm linked with yours.

“Where have you been darling?” Freddie’s voice asked.

“I was with Sam.”

“OOOh, tell me more.” Freddie urged.

“I will. Walk me home?” You said leaning your head on Freddie’s shoulder.

“Of course! I would never leave you without finding out what happened with Sam, who has you smiling so much.” Freddie said playfully patting your head.

You wrapped your arm tighter around Freddie’s as you both left the bar, and headed back to the hotel.

Taglist: @richiethotzierz @wazzockbra @grapesarepurple @zcars777 @smile-nine @allons-ytomyworld @fruityfreddie @cherrrywitch @jennyggggrrr @blueandsunny-morn @sydthekid41002 @yeehawcalum @reallooney @littlegeekwonder @cosmoeticss @spngvf @sweetdayme4427 @diggrycedric @rhyeseas @gwilsbri @lesbianfairiesweardocs @highwaytvne

#you'll be the lonely one #roger taylor #sam kiszka #roger taylor x reader #sam kiszka x reader #queen fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic

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dancing-deacon · 5 years

Text

Let Me Be Your Lover Boy(Part 5)

BoRhap!Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: When an undesirable meeting with Roger Taylor knocks you off your feet, the drummer will do anything to get you to fall for him.

(A/N) My computer is finally fixed so here’s the next part! This chapter is long and kinda covers a lot but I enjoy a lot of things in it. Inbox and all that is always open per usual, if you like leave a comment or reblog!! Thanks loves!

Warnings: smut, NSFW at parts, fluff, alcohol, swearing

Word Count: 2.7K

Get Caught Up! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

You eagerly wait on the end of the ringing phone line. You decided to uproot and work for Queen. Travelling the world with the four of them would be exhilarating and new.

"Hello?" You hear from the other end.

"Hi, Freddie, it's (Y/N), I was calling about..." you say, interrupted not able to finish your sentence.

"(Y/N), this is Roger, not Freddie. How'd you get my number?" Roger has a smug sound to his voice.

That rotter, Freddie. He knew you'd call the number he gave you, which was totally not his.

You roll your eyes, "Roger, can you give me Freddie's number? Doesn't matter how I got yours." You state.

Ignoring your questions Roger continues, "So you decided to take the job?"

"Roger, the number please." You enunciate your words, showing a slight annoyance at his cockiness.

"Fine, fine." He recites the number and you promptly say goodbye, hanging up to give Freddie the official call.

Freddie was thrilled to hear from you, and your tale about Roger returning your watch. "He offered to take it, couldn't imagine why since he lives in the other direction." Freddie implies, making you think about more about the gesture.

Freddie was one to play matchmaker, and he knew. It was the same game to him upon giving you Roger's number rather than his own.

For this reason, all he could do was laugh when you say, "Funny Fred, how the phone number you wrote down wasn't yours, but Roger's. Can't possibly imagine why," you joke with him. Getting onto his game. "Listen, Roger seems to act in waves, highs and lows, if he can show me he is a good guy, maybe, just maybe he has a chance," you admit to Freddie across the phone.

"Hm." Is all he can say to that confession.

"So anyway, I called about the job. I'd love to work with Queen, Freddie." You smile big at the thought.

"Oh, fantastic! And we'll pay you double what you make now, no triple....no whatever you want, we just need you, darling!"

You can hear the excitement in his voice through the phone, which makes you feel truly wanted.

You get the final details of the job and when you'll need to move out by, Freddie offered a temporary stay in his home, since he lived alone. After hanging up the phone, you begin calmly packing up the rest of your life, eager for the next chapter. --- The first day in the studio you arrive early, John, Brian, Freddie, and Roger are already there, setting up the equipment in the booth. You walk past the window and give an eager wave to them, Brian and John give a small wave and a smile, Freddie is turned around warming up. Roger pretends he doesn't see you, even though you noticed him glance up from behind his drum set.

You hang up your jacket and drop your bag on the sofa behind the board. On the table are a bouquet of pink and red roses, and a note with your name on it. You glance at the boys in question, who are too busy setting up to catch your eye. You pick up the roses, the sweet smell enchanting your nose, bringing a smile to your face. You open the note,

Welcome to the Queen family!

You stick the note in your bag and place the flowers back on the table, running the silky petals of the biggest red rose between your fingers.

You walk over to the door and peak your head in, "Thank you guys for the flowers, you're all so sweet," You hold your hand over your heart in joy. "I'm so happy to be here." You give them all a giant smile.

"Flowers?" Deaky questions quietly, glancing sideways at Roger, who has his head down by his bass pedal, grinning to himself, face a light shade of pink. "Right the flowers, it's no problem, thrilled to have you here."

Brian and Freddie stare at you and nod in hesitative agreement.

"Alright, well, Freddie I'll be working on that list you gave me, if you all need anything just shout," you say to the rest of the guys, promptly leaving the room to work.

"I can tell you one thing Roger needs from her," Deaky teases, Roger shooting him an embarrassed glance. "Really, Rog? Flowers?"

Roger steps down from the risers his drum set stands on, "I thought it would be nice!" Roger states defensively. "Besides, she doesn't know they're from just me."

Brian peers through the window to the lounge where the flowers lay. "They're red roses for crying out loud, ‘nice' isn't the thought there." Brian emphasizes his point, air quotes included.

"Oh, piss off." Roger slumps, moving back to his drum set, ready to play, away from the teasing. --- Waiting at the bar, you glance over at the boys, the pre-show hype present in their demeaners. They were sat in the corner, waiting for you to arrive with their drinks, which you offered to grab. You enjoyed the past few weeks with Queen, everyone has been kind to you, even Roger whom you got off on the completely wrong foot with initially.

You spark up a basic conversation with the bartender while you wait. Taking your attention away from the band. When you glimpse back, Roger is away from the table, leaning against a wall chatting up a short blonde girl in a tight skirt. The big goofy grin on his face speaks numbers. Your face grows warm and your stomach starts to turn. Roger had been fairly nice to you, but he must not have felt the connection that you had been lately. Especially after that night in the studio a week ago, which he doesn't remember. --- "Another, please!" Roger yells, sloshing his half full glass towards you. The rest of the band left the studio hours ago, but you promised them to stay with Roger, who had already had a few too many sips to get home alone.

"Rog, you've had a lot, are you sure?" You top off his glass at his sloppy head nod, him giggling at the noise the ice cubes made against the side of the glass.

You can help but smile at this Roger, he was acting silly and full of youth. Unlike the first experience with drunk Roger you had.

"Finishing an album, we have to celebrate!" Roger raises his glass before knocking it back.

You close your eyes, listening to the smooth melody of the album play quietly in the background. You were proud of the boys, you saw how hard they worked every single day, in and out of the studio.

Out of nowhere, you're pulled up harshly by your arm. You collide into Roger's chest, eyes meeting his, blue as the ocean. "Dance with me?" He asks sweetly, giggling at your confusion.

"Alright Roger." His hand makes his way to your waist, as it did the first time you hugged him. The feeling of his chest on yours causes your heart to skip a beat. Noticing your hand fit so perfectly into his you give a light squeeze, to let him know you enjoyed his company.

You sway gently to the music, supporting him when he stumbles over his own feet. You smile and lean your head on his shoulder, his loose hair tickling your forehead. His scent familiar and comforting.

"I'm falling for you (Y/N)." He whispers this into your ear. Sending chills down your spine. "Like the love kind of falling." The slur of words make you question his honesty.

Pulling away from his embrace, all you can choke out of your dry throat is, "We should get you home, Roger. Get you some sleep."

Wondering if his words were true, frustration builds, realizing you were starting to feel the same way. --- You thank the bartender and bring the drinks over, roughly placing them on the table. You slide into the booth next to Brian, who gives you a questioning look. You can't help but glance at Roger, who seemingly knows it is bothering you.

Freddie, Brian, and John exchange an all-knowing look, understanding your distaste for Roger's antics, as well as your growing feelings for each other. But it wasn't their place.

"Roger, drinks." Freddie calls.

Roger turns his head, making eye contact with you. His smile drops, and he stares at the floor.

Roger slides into the booth next to you, staying as close to the edge as possible. You can't help but notice.

"Here, have your beer. Drink it...then you can go back to that girl." Your words come out as rude, though not caring. You slide him a tall glass, filled to the brim. His jaw clenches and he stares at you, tight lipped and dead eyed, his face turning a deep red.

"I don't want the fucking drink. And that was nothing." He spits out, rather quietly.

"Roger, I bought you the drink, it's what you wanted." You look at Brian, Freddie, and John, who have their heads down in discomfort, hands bringing their drinks up to sip. Out of the corner of your eye you see Roger roll his eyes and shake his head at you.

You shift your body to make direct eye contact with Roger, his eyebrows are furrowed. You burn with jealousy. "Fine, you can share it with that floozy then." You say, heart dropping, at the thought.

"That's it! I'm off!" He pushes the full glass back to you in frustration, some of the beer spilling over the side and onto your skirt. Roger slams his hand on the table and starts off down the hall, fists clenching.

You give an apologetic look at the rest of the band and rise up out of your seat.

You chase down the hall after him, following him into his dressing room. "Are you mocking me? Roger, you're a rock star. You drink, you party, you flirt with anything that walks, why do you have to make fun of me for not being like that?" All your thoughts are back to what he said to you a week ago., wondering if you’re just another pawn in his game. You slam his dressing room door behind you.

"I'm not mocking you (Y/N)!" He doesn't look at you.

"It sure does seem like it, Roger." You spit out, hurt. "You know, I had to grow up real fast after my dad left, even more so when my mom died, so excuse me if you think I have a stick up my ass. Not everyone can be a rich, reckless rock star."

"Is that what you think of me?" Roger spins around to face you, "You think that lowly of me?" Roger looks hurt. He knows you haven't noticed how hard he has been trying to get you to like him.

"I've had to act like an adult, I had no choice. And now it's hardwired into me!" Your anger is about to boil over. You clench your fists hard, nails digging into your palms.

"But it's different now!" Roger shouts at you, "You're on the road with us, you're thrust into parties and, and travelling, and you'll get to fucking act your age!" Roger starts to stutter over his words, which he only does when he gets overly frustrated. "You need to just start living! You need to....to..." Roger clenches his jaw and stares at you.... chest heaving.

"I need to what Roger? Spit it out!" You scream out, on the verge of tears.

Roger lunges forward powerfully and smashes his face into yours, enveloping you in his arms. His mouth is warm, his tongue searching for yours. Your hands grab onto his hair, entangling it between your fingers and pulling at it, as if releasing it would end the moment.

Roger parts his lips from yours, hands cupping your cheeks. "You need to fucking realize what I've been doing to try to get you to notice me. The watch. The flowers. Not bloody drinking so I don't act like a piss flap again." He pecks a light kiss on your mouth between each sentence. "I didn't think jealousy would be the last straw."

Your stomach drops at his confession, feeling ridiculously stupid for being so oblivious and how his last time drinking a few weeks ago that his feelings expressed were real, not the alcohol talking. "Roger, I...I," you pull him in for another kiss, not knowing how to express your feelings in words.

You run your hands under his shirt, feeling across his abs and up his chest. Your other hand pulls up on the fabric, guiding it off his body. You wrap your arms around his strong shoulders, gripping your nails into his back as his tongue moves across yours in a hunger.

Roger grasps at your shirt, tugging it up, "Off. Please. Now," he begs. You pull away to let him remove your blouse, which you wore without a bra today. His lips are puffy and red, his piercing blue eyes burning as he takes in your naked chest.

Roger put his lips next to your ear, "You have no fucking clue how long I've been wanting you." His whispers send an electric shock down your spine, making your thighs warm and your stomach start to tumble.

"Me...too, Rog." You breathe out. Making Roger moan into your neck as he bites just below your earlobe. He moves slowly down your neck, nibbling the skin as he goes. When he reaches your breasts he trails wet kisses across them. He flicks your nipple with his tongue, enjoying the view as he looks up your head thrown back in lust. Roger smirks to himself and lowers his hands to your thighs, gripping them hard, he hoists you up to straddle his waist. "Oh my god, Roger," you manage to moan out, begging him for more.

He turns around and presses your back against the door, his chest, covered in a hot sweat, leans hard against you. You can feel his large bulge as your bodies grind together against the door. You groan at the closeness, and how only a few thin layers of clothing separate you and Roger's cock. You focus on his appetizing lips, how they move in sync with yours, and how every moment he pulled away was agony.

"Roger! Rog!"

You hear shouts from the hallway, followed by frantic knocks on the dressing room door, making your back vibrate.

Roger jerks his lips away and nuzzles into your neck grunting, "fuck, I need you, (Y/N)," His frustration shows as the band members call his name from a few inches away. His breathing against your neck makes you shiver.

Roger slowly and resentfully lowers you to the ground, moving his face to rest his forehead against yours. Both your chest heaving in unison as you stare into his eyes. Both of you hungry for more of each other's bodies.

"I'll bloody be right out," He shouts to the guys on the other side of the door, obviously irritated.

"Princess." "Gotta make your hair look nice."

You hear from the other side of the door, smirking at their oblivion to what just occurred.

You manage to tear your eyes away from Roger's to look at your watch. "Fuck, Roger you need to go on stage soon."

He pulls at your waste, bringing your bodies together harshly. "I don't think I can play after that." He bites his lip, making your knees weak. You grab his biceps for support.

He leans over and kisses you gingerly. You keep your eyes closed, so his smolder can't distract you again, "Rog, you really have to go..." You pause, opening your eyes with a smug smile, "this isn't finished though trust me."

Roger blushes lightly and shifts you to the side away from the door. "I can't bloody wait," he moans, grabbing the door. "Oh and, I promise there was no mocking, just proving a point," he moves his eyes up and down your half naked body, "that you really can let go." He winked before slipping out of the dressing room to meet up with the rest of the band.

Alone, body aching for Roger's touch again, you slump onto his leather sofa, knowing you absolutely cannot mention what had happened to anyone. But now you know, the words he said to you while dancing, he truly meant.

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