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matthew-gray-gublers-babygirl · 1 year

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Welcome Home - Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Summary: Okay so I know a handful of people have done this, but I am a sore sucker for hurt Roger. Roger comes home from their first big tour and he's in pain from the constant physical demand of being a drummer. Also a little bit of angst but mainly fluff then soft smut near the end.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of drugs and alcohol, pain (none inflicted by anybody, but if you are not a fan of reading about people in pain then skip this one), anxiety, smut (penis in vagina sex, riding, dirty talk/mention of masturbation, unprotected sex, no aftercare), note: the smut is fairly vanilla/soft, so if you aren't a fan of having the vagina referred to as a 'cunt' then you're fine to read this.

Word count: 4.1k

Enjoy!

The crowd which surrounded you was yelling like you had never heard before. You were so proud of the kind of fanbase the band had attracted for themselves. The boys hadn't appeared on stage yet, and you knew all four band members were freaking out. They were about to perform at The Rainbow Theatre in London. Groups like The Who, Genesis, Jimi Hendrix and David Bowie had played there in the past, all people who influenced the guys. You were nervous for them, but you knew they would do excellent.

Roger sits on a fold-out chair, carefully removing the wraps from his fingers. Luckily his sores had healed since the last show. His back still aches along with involuntary tremors from anxiety. The Rainbow was one of the most famous theatres in London. In their eyes, if you played at The Rainbow, you made it.

“Have a beer, Roger. Might calm you down,” Brian suggested. “Don’t want a fuckin’ beer,” Roger replied hoarsely. Not only were they about to play in front of a sold-out show of 2,802 people, but the whole set was also going to be broadcasted on The Old Grey Whistle Test and the radio, as well. Beer wasn't going to help the nerves.

Brian let out a sigh before taking a sip of his Coca-Cola. “Well, at least you have Y/n to watch,” he said. You haven't been able to watch the entire tour while you were stuck at home in London due to work, so you were glad you were able to watch the last show. “That's the worst part,” Roger mutters. “What if I mess up? I’ll humiliate myself in front of her and half of fuckin’ London.”

“You’ll be fine, Roger. We made plenty of mistakes on stage throughout the tour. And if you make a mistake tonight, who cares? Whos going to notice and print on next week's paper ‘Queens drummer Roger Taylor messed up on stage’?” Brian asks in his fake coach-like tone. “Nobody. And especially not Y/n.

Roger slowly looks up at Brian, removing his face from his palms. “Youre right,” he says. “Now let's go up on stage,” Brian grins as he gives roger a hand and all four head out of the dressing room.

You watch as the house lights begin to dim. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as the camera crew and radio men made sure everything was correct. You watch as a man in a white tuxedo comes out onto the stage, it was Bob Harris. You had spoken to him before, he was kind.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Queen!” he says proudly before you hear the familiar sound of Brian's guitar. You were amazed by the show. The use of colourful lights and smoke was perfect. You hadn't seen the boys play on such a big stage like this. You were so proud of them.

As the show comes to an end, Brian begins playing strong power cords along with some feedback from the amps. Roger bangs hard on the drums, and you watch as he knocks them over. He furiously throws them off the drum risers, Freddie and John getting out of the way just in the nick of time. That wasn't like him. Sure, he had an anger issue and often had tantrums over things, but he never took things out in front of fans.

You feed your way through the crowd, finding the side door which was guarded by a crew member. You flash your VIP card at them and you are quickly let in. You are greeted by Freddie cautiously sipping on cold water, while Brian was icing his fingertips. “You guys were great!” you praise them before addressing the situation on stage. “Thank you, my dear,” Freddie replies through gulps. He finishes his cup before he stands up and gives you a hug. “Roger can’t wait to see you,” he tells you. “About Roger. Where is he?” you ask since he wasn't in the dressing room.

“You saw his little outburst. He might be in the bathroom or one of the dressing rooms down the hall,” he tells you, and you thank him. “Tell me everything about the tour later, I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit!” you say with a smile as you leave the dressing room on the hunt for Roger.

You pass by his roadie and close friend, Chris “Crystal” Taylor. “Crystal, have you seen Roger?” you ask. “He’s in dressing room five. I tried to talk to him but he told me to leave him alone,” he tells you. “Thanks,” you reply and go down the hall to dressing room five.

You knock lightly, unconsciously not wanting your knock to sound masculine so you wouldn't be sent away immediately. You hear a groan from the other side of the door. Roger was sat on a small couch, gripping his hair in anger while his feet stomped. He had already disorganized the entire counter along with kicking any piece of furniture he could find. “Roger,” you say as you slowly open the door.

He perks up at the sound of your voice. “Y/n?” he asks. He stood up, seeing your worried gaze staring back at him. He hugs you with the force of a thousand lost men. “I missed you so much…” he whispered into your ear. His angered and broken voice rang throughout your head, and you hug him back.

“I’m so sorry. I got angry on stage, and- and I broke the kit, and you had to see me like that,” Roger says. “I was just so nervous about playing in front of everybody, and I didn't want to disappoint you and I did exactly what I was trying not to do,” he whimpered into your neck. All his outward anger was gone. All that was in his heart was remorse.

“Roger,” you say, taking his cheeks into your palms and looking at him. You use your thumbs to slowly wipe away the tears. “You didn't disappoint me,” you tell him. “You did amazing. I just knew you would,” you smile.

Roger slowly smiles back at you as tears form in his eyes again. It was so hard to be away from you for so long. His strong and callused hands grip your waist and his shaky breath blew against your lips. He slowly kisses you, tears running down his face as his eyelids meet. You missed his touch. You missed his kisses. You wished that your welcome home to him was under different circumstances. He parts from the kiss, his face returning to the crook of your neck as he begins to cry. You heard his voice breaking as sobs come from him.

“Baby, why are you crying?” you ask as you gently run your hands through his sweaty hair. “I just missed you so much…” he whispered. “And… and I don’t deserve you…” he confesses. Every day he questions why you haven't left him yet.

It takes you every ounce of strength in your body not to start crying with him. “Don't say that, my love” you tell him. You place a kiss on his cheek as you feel his shaky grip become tighter around you. You have seen Roger in emotional states like this, but he had never presented himself to be this vulnerable before.

You bring his gaze to yours, yet again wiping the tears from his eyes. “Let's go home,” you say. “But- the after party,” he says, and you shut him up with a single finger on his lips. “Your well-being is more important than an after-party,”

After a couple of gentle kisses on the lips and forehead, and two or more tears shed, Roger agrees to go home.

You arrive home with Roger. He sighs as he enters the apartment, and he slowly removes his shoes and jacket. “Are you hungry? I can order some food if you’d like,” you suggest, and he nods. “Japanese, please,” he says. “I was going to order that. I know it's your favourite,” you smile and give him a soft kiss on the cheek. “You go get changed while I order it,” you tell him. Roger walks off and enters your shared bedroom. He hadn't been there in months. It was exactly as he left it, maybe a bit cleaner, but still the same comforting bedroom.

He changes into a t-shirt and sweatpants. It had been ages since he wore comfortable clothes. Most nights he ended up sleeping in his leather pants and button-up because he was too exhausted or drunk to change.

You walk into the bedroom, Japanese food in hand and you see Roger laying stomach-first on the bed. “The food is here,” you tell him as you shake him out of his half-awake state. “Oh,” he says groggily and sits up. He takes his portion of the food and begins eating after he thanked you.

“Tell me all about the tour,” you tell him with a smile.

“The fucking tour…” Roger muttered. “I was great and all, but physically it was horrible,”

“What do you mean?” you ask as you slowly place a hand on his back. Roger hisses as you touch the sensitive muscles on his back. “That-” he says. You frown. “My whole body hurts. My back, my hands, my legs. Pretty sure I sprained my ankle. First I tried painkillers, but they only helped for a bit. I tried drinking, and I tried drugs. It helped for a bit, but when I come down from it everything hurts again. Fuck- jerking off didn't even help. Fred said it would but it didn't,”

You could hear the pain and frustration in his voice. “Rog, baby, if you were hurting all tour you should have asked to go home early,” you tell him. “I wanted to, believe me, I did. But I couldn't, the band depended on me, just like I depend on them. Plus every show was sold out. I couldn't leave.

“Why don’t I run you a bath?” you suggest. “The hot water might help ease your muscles, then we can go to bed,” you tell him.

“You think that will help?” he asks. “It should help your muscles, at least. I’ll bandage your ankle up and if your pain gets any worse we can go to the doctor,” you say. “I’d like a bath, then,” he smiles softly. “Okay,” you tell him and gave him a kiss before you stood up and walked to the bathroom to run the bath.

About 10 minutes later Roger looks up from his book when you walk into the bedroom. He rips off his reading glasses and puts away the book he was reading. He hated his reading glasses, you loved how they looked. He never believes you, of course.

“Bath is done,” you tell him. He stands up from the bed and follows you to the bathroom. He sees as you put epsom salt and some bubbles into the water and mix it with your hand. “Thank you, baby,” he smiles and gives you a warm kiss before he undressed and got into the tub. You couldn't help but watch. You hadn't seen him naked in almost 3 months besides the naughty polaroid photos he left behind for you. But, right now was not the time for lust. Your job as his partner was to comfort him.

Roger hisses as he leans down into the scorching hot water. “Too hot?” you ask worriedly. “Little bit, but that’s probably good,” he says. He slowly adjusts to the temperature and leans his head back onto the cold tile.

The two of you had shared baths before. Roger had suggested it once a while back as a bonding moment. He made it quite romantic. There were much more bubbles than the current bath, and he poured you both a glass of wine with candles. Even if it felt a bit cheesy, you loved it.

“I’ll be in the bedroom when you're done,” you tell him and stand up to leave. “Y/n,” he says, grabbing your dry hand with his wet one. “Don’t leave,”

You look down at him, his wide, remorseful eyes staring back at you. “You're doing all this stuff for me, getting food, running me a bath. If I were you I’d be struggling to keep my hands to myself,” he says. “It's nice to have a welcome home like this, so stay. The last thing I want is to not be able to see you, or hear your voice, or smell you…”

If you weren't his girlfriend, you’d be creeped out by the last sentence. But you had to admit, you felt the same. Even just a reminiscing smell that was similar to Rogers's cologne or sweat brought you comfort.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” you smile. You sit down on the floor mat, still holding his hand in yours. “Is the bath helping?” you ask. “A bit. It does feel nice on my muscles,” he replies. “Maybe you could give me a massage after?”

“Is that an excuse to have my hands all over you?” you tease with a smirk. “Partly,” he grins and gives you a superficial kiss as he purses his lips at you. You laugh and nudge him a bit. “Creep,” you joke. “You can't deny it, you love that creep,” he barks back at you. He always made you blush, even with the simplest of words.

Roger slowly brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing your hand gently before resting his cheek against it. “I love you…” he whispers. You smile softly. “I love you too,” you whisper back. You lean over, giving him a slow and loving kiss. “Why don't you join me?” he asks, using his hand to tap the water a bit. “I already showered today,” you tease. Roger groans with a smirk. “You always play hard to get,” he chuckles.

Roger stayed in the tub for almost forty-five minutes before he gave you the queue he was ready to get out. You handed him a towel and he wrapped it around his waist. “Don't forget that massage,” he grins. “Don’t worry, I didn't,” you giggle. He was always so needed sometimes.

You lead him back to the bedroom once you grabbed the massage oil from under the bathroom sink. He lays down on the bed, taking off his towel as he did. You could feel the smirk on his face. “Cover your arse,” you tell him, even if it was cute. “You're no fun,” he laughs and puts the towel back on.

You put the tiniest amount of oil on your hands, rub it between your palms to warm the liquid before gently rubbing it up and down Roger's back. “Where does it hurt, baby?” you ask. “My upper back, near my shoulders, and my spine,” Roger says while burying his face into his arms. You begin kneading his shoulders, digging your thumbs into his muscles. “Fuck-” he groans. “Hurts?” you ask. “Yes,” he mutters. “Sorry,” you reply, placing a gentle kiss on the back of his neck. “It's okay.”

You knead his muscles slower, adding less pressure so you could ease him onto it. You worked on one section, and once Roger gave you the okay, you added a bit more pressure, and then more after. He groans again as you push harder. “I’m sorry,” you say. “No- no, keep going,” he whispers. “Fuck-” he growled.

It felt so good but hurt at the same time. “You’re great with your hands, Y/n,” he tells you. “In multiple ways,” he smirks. “Oh shut the fuck up,” you laugh.

After half an hour or so of massaging, you were finally done, and by the time you had finished, Roger was almost asleep. “You’re done, love,” you whisper to him with a gentle kiss on his cheek. That was able to wake him up from his light sleep. “Thank you, babe…” he mumbled as he pushed himself up. He sighs as he moves his spine. “It feels much better,” he smiles, and you smile back at him. “I’m glad it does,” you tell him, and give him a kiss on the lips.

Roger sits up, taking the towel from his behind and wrapping it around his waist once again. “You know,” he says, looking over at the clock on your nightstand. “The night isn't over yet,” he smirks. You knew exactly what he meant. “You're right, it isn't,” you say. “I have another welcome home gift for you,” you hum before you kiss him. It was gentle and soft. You always played hard to get with him, even if Roger acted as if he hated it, it made the night feel even more erotic.

Rogers' hands make their way to your waist, gripping your shirt before they venture under the fabric. “Somebody is needy,” you tease. “I haven't seen you… in months. Of course, I'm needy,” he says between kisses. You shiver at his touch. Even if you loved teasing him, you couldn't resist him either.

Your hands run down his bare chest as the kiss becomes more sensual. Roger was always the first one to use his tongue, and you didn't mind, especially right now. “You know,” you begin through a small moment of a parting of your lips. “When you were gone…” you whisper, trailing your kisses down his neck to suck hot sores onto his skin. “I used to ride my pillow… pretending it was you,”

Shivers went through Roger's body as you spoke. He held back a moan, letting out a soft groan instead. “Yeah? What other dirty things did you do while I was gone?” he asks against your ear while his hands tried to undress you. “I’d moan your name as if you were in the room,” you tell him, letting the lewd noises of your wet kisses echo through his ears. “I’d touch myself in the shower and pretend it's your hand…” you whisper. “I’d even go as far as touching myself while reading your interviews in magazines,”

“Fuck…” Roger whimpered. He was already hard as a rock at the thought of you doing all those outlandish things just because you missed him. “Well, the real thing is here, now. No need to pretend,” he hummed. He takes off your shirt and shudders as he cups your bra. He bit his lip at the sight of your breasts. He had looked at them in the dirty polaroid you gave him, but finally seeing them in person, even with a bra, felt so rewarding. “I need you, baby…” he whispered.

You push him down onto the bed. You were much more forceful than you had ever been. “I love when you beg,” you grinned. You begin undoing your pants after Rogers's many failed attempts. “Please…” he whimpered. “I jerked off almost every night to that little sexy photo I have of you… just wasn't the same-” he says breathily.

Once your pants were off, which felt like forever for Roger, you straddle his hips. He hisses as your panties rub against his cock. “Baby- please…” he begs. “Please, what?” you ask in your menacing teasing tone. “Please fuck me,” Roger says. He wasn't afraid to beg. If he had to beg you to get what he wanted, he would. You grin. You slowly remove your underwear and toss them to the side. It took every ounce of strength in Roger's body not to grab your panties and smell them.

You lift your hips, letting his tip run through your folds. You were already soaking wet for him. “Shit-” Roger mutters. His tip twitched against your wetness. You reach behind yourself, slowly unclipping your bra and sliding it off. The desperate and amazed look on Roger's face almost made you laugh. He looked like a child in a candy store. Rogers' shaky hands reach up to gently cup your breasts. His thumbs run over your nipples and he watches as they become pointy in his hold.

“Are you ready?” You ask in a similar fashion to how he asked you the first time you had sex. “I’ve been ready,” he huffs. You smirk at the desperate look on his face. You feel Roger's hands slowly run down to your hips, ready in position to help guide you. You slowly sink down onto his cock once you aligned his tip with your entrance. You let out a whine as he finally goes inside you. You have used dildos occasionally while he was gone, but it never felt the same.

“Fuck, baby…” Roger groaned as you squeeze around his length. His hands grip your waist, knuckles on the verge of going white. His hands and your body begin to move in unison. “Oh, Roger…” you whisper between soft moans. Your hips slowly move up and hit down onto Roger's pelvis. The first bounce of many made you whine and made Roger bite back a moan.

“Faster…” Roger begs quietly, and you comply. You needed to be faster, you needed him. His hands helped your hips move as you rode him. You were weak with arousal, and it took great strength to move your hips.

Every movement sent waves through your body, rewarding Roger with the sound of your sweet moans every time his cock hit just the right spot inside you. “You feel so good, baby…” Roger whispers before letting out a groan. His head was swimming. Every time he watched the way your breasts moved with your hips, or how his cock disappeared inside of you, he moaned almost femininely.

By now, you were bouncing on Roger like it was your last day on Earth. And your moans were erotically loud. Roger shouted obscenities that would have his mother fuming from the unholy words, but neither of you cared. You needed each other more than you needed air. You needed each other's body and soul. You knew that after this night, not only would you both be sore, but you would have an angry note from your elderly neighbour the next morning.

“Babe- fuck, I’m close…!” you moan. Your face was unpleasing to you, with your eyebrows scrunched together and your mouth hanging open. Roger loved the sight, but, he could barely look because he was engulfed in pleasure. It was a strain to open his eyes.

“Cum for me, love,” Roger tells you. “Cum,” he repeats. You couldn't feel your body besides the constant pleasuring feeling of Rogers' length plunging in and out of you. You had lost full control of your hips, but the rewarding feeling was too strong to stop. “Cum all over my cock,” it was so erotic to say something like that, although it wasn't the worst of the dirty talk that Roger had in store. But, it was enough for you to finally go over the edge.

You moan loudly as Roger's cock hits just the right spot, and you tighten around him. “Fuck!” you moan, along with multiple other forms of The Lord's name used in vain. Roger groans as your walls squeeze around his length. “Y/n…!” he moaned before his cum spewed into you. You were both wet and sticky with each other's arousal. It felt disgusting but you loved it.

Roger pulled you against his chest, groaning into your neck as he gripped your hair. His arms were around you in a bear hug, chest heaving against yours with a silent promise to never let you go.

“Rog…” you whisper. Roger took a moment to answer, he could hardly breathe. “Y-yes?” he asks. “I love you…” that made him smile. “I love you, too…” he whispers back.

You didn't dare to move, and neither did Roger. “I don't have it in me for a second round, baby…” you whisper. “It's okay, me either,” he huffs. You slowly lift your head from the crook of his neck, you see the weak smile on his lips and you couldn't help but smile back. You kiss him, gently like before. “Want me to-” he hisses as you slowly lift your hips, removing his length from your pussy. “Want me to clean you up?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No,” you tell him. You roll over, resting your head in your hand as your look at him. Roger's hand gently caresses your cheek, twirling a strand or two of hair around his finger. You noticed the sores on his fingers where calluses usually were, but you didn't comment on it.

You were so beautiful, sometimes he didn't believe that you were his. He often questioned his religion because of you. He didn't understand how he could be given such a goddess-like being like yourself without the help of some higher deity to bless him with such a gift.

“Now can you tell me about the tour?” you ask, and he smiles. “Sure,” he says, and he began rambling on about the great time he had in America, leaving out the parts about his pain. You had helped him with his wounds, and he finally felt at peace again.

#roger meddows taylor #roger taylor #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor fanfiction #70s queen #queen band #queen fanfiction #queen fandom #queen band fanfic #roger taylor fandom #smut #roger taylor smut #roger taylor drummer #fanfiction

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your-one-day-ecstasy · 13 days

Text

Chapters: 1

Fandom: Queen (Band)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Joe Fanelli/Freddie Mercury

Characters: Joe Fanelli, Freddie Mercury, Roger Taylor (Queen), Peter "Phoebe" Freestone

Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

Summary:

Touring and partying had been their downfall before so when Freddie found Joe Fanelli backstage a year and a half after their breakup, he wasn't quite sure what to do. Joe, of course, was ready for the culture shock of Freddie's new normal. Written with @sunnymeddows for @fanellifest Day 3: Tour Life/Culture Shock A prequel to Love with No Love in Return

#queen band fanfic #queen fanfiction #my fic #fanellifest2024 #fanellifest

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acciotwinz · 2 years

Text

Brian May Blurb

Since setting food on Canadian soil, Brian knew that it wouldn’t be his favourite place. Sure, he’s used to the gloomy, gray days in London but there’s something about biting cold and snow that reaches your ass that just makes him miserable.

They had been moving from city to city for the past two weeks and they now had a day off in the country’s capital city.

Brian is admiring their version of Parliament Building - it looks almost identical to the one in London - when it starts snowing. Again.

With a groan, Brian turns to start trekking back to his hotel room.

The snow is falling increasingly faster, making the roads and sidewalks even more slippery and icy than it was on his way over. He’s so busy watching where he puts his feet down that he doesn’t realize that he’s about to walk into traffic.

Someone grabs his arm, roughly pulling him back and Brian loses his footing, landing in a snow-bank. “Are you okay?!”

Brian struggles to get himself off the ground and someone giggles, making his head snap up. His eyes land on someone who is clearly Canadian (the lack of winter gear is really telling). She smiles sweetly at him and extends an ungloved hand, “Not front around here, eh?”

He accepts the hand, shocked that this stranger doesn’t end up in the snow alongside him. “What gave it away?”

She grins, “The way you were walking. Only tourists, new Canadians and children watch their feet.”

Brian grimaces, “Of course. It does snow in England but definitely not as much as I’ve seen here these past two weeks.”

“Not a fan of it?”

“Not really,” he shrugs, doing his best to get the snow off his hair so that it won’t melt down his back. “But I don’t have much of a choice.”

“Here for work?”

He nods and the girl smiles at him. She extends her hand once again, “Wanna see something that could change your mind?”

Brian eyes the hand for a moment before looking the girl in the eye. “Can’t be worse than this.”

She laughs, “That’s the spirit!”

The girl, Y/N, ends up taking him skating along the frozen Rideau Canal, eating beaver tails and drinking hot chocolate as the snow keeps falling and giving the whole city a magical sort of feeling. They end up beneath Parliament hill, watching the sun set and create art on the ice with the colors reflecting off the surface.

“Not that bad, eh?” Y/N grins, bumping her shoulder against his.

Brian smiles down at her, grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles softly. “Guess not.”

“Do you like my country, now?”

“Oh definitely! But I think it has more to do with the beautiful person besides me.”

#JJ writes #JJ gets back into writing #queen band fanfic #queen fanfiction #queen fic #queen fanfic #queen fluff #brian may x reader #queen reader insert #brian may x you #brian may fluff #brian may blurb #brian may fanfic #brian may fanfiction #brian may x reader insert #brian may imagine #queen band imagine #queen band x reader #brian may reader insert

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hotspace39 · 4 months

Note

Writing suggestion for you: Deaky x reader, strictly fluff, maybe a little angst, but all in all, a happy ending. Also, reader is friends with the band, and maybe you could incorporate Freddie, Brian and Roger, all of them remarking how much reader and Deaky are in love. Idiots in love, basically.

This is almost too specific, but c'mon, we're mutuals.

Of course!!! Thank you for the request :)

Completely zoned off in the band’s rehearsal, I watched in awe as my boyfriend plucked the strings of his sunburst Squier bass, fingers moving somnambulant.

How did I get so lucky?

I mused silently, smiling absent-mindedly like a lovestruck idiot as I gazed at him: his long locks of wavy brown hair, his kind smile, his clever blue-grey eyes, his beautiful hands with those long, delicate fingers…

My daydreaming was rudely disturbed by a clamour of loud voices.

“Fred, you’re singing it wrong, it’s throwing my timing off!”

“Oh fuck off Roger” Freddie’s voice purred.

I looked up at the two having a spat. This was a common occurrence, no shock to me at this point. The two argued like brothers nearly every time I’d come along with John to these rehearsals. Sometimes Brian would join in, too - but never John. He preferred to sit and do his own thing.

“Oh quit it Roger, he’s singing it fine!” Brian chimed in. I lifted my head and couldn’t help but giggle slightly at the arguing. I personally thought they sounded great, but I didn’t know much about what they were going for. It all seemed quite experimental to me, different to what you’d hear on the radio.

John took the backseat for these arguments, never contributed. I understood, I didn’t like confrontation either. He had only joined the band a few months ago so he felt like the “new boy” still, but he had so much more that he could contribute to the band. I often tried to persuade him to push his ideas to the others - I thought they were brilliant - but he said no, he didn’t want to. Not yet.

I glanced at John to make sure he was doing okay. It took me a second to catch his attention, but when I did, he smiled at me. That beautiful smile. It lit up my whole world for a matter of seconds: like it was just me and him in this practise room. I found myself blushing, suddenly shy - as though we hadn’t been going out for two months at this point.

John spoke up - a rare occurrence. His voice was soft but firm.

“Why don’t we take a break for a few minutes, get a coffee? I think we’re all knackered right now and won’t agree on anything.”

The other three begrudgingly agreed and went off their separate ways, Freddie and Roger still bickering as they walked out the door. John closed the door after them and looked at me, mouth twitching to a smile. We both laughed. We often joked that his bandmates were like our kids, a group of toddlers with their constant bickering.

“Nothing changes with them, does it?”

I asked while sidling up towards him coolly, hiding the flutter of excitement in my stomach.

He shook his head and laughed.

“It’s the one thing you can bet on, these spats. Especially when it comes to Rog and Fred.”

I was right beside John at this point. I loved how I had to look up a little bit to see his face, I only came up to his shoulders. He looked down at me and smiled.

“Good thing I have you here to keep me sane.”

He muttered before bending down to give me a kiss. I smiled into the kiss as I closed my eyes, revelling in the soft touch of his lips. I let my tongue wander and hummed slightly, hinting that I wanted more.

John paused and drew back to look at me.

“But the guys will be here soon…”

I groaned, knowing he was right.

“I know. I just love you so much.”

John’s expression softened and he cupped my face in his hands, looking me in the eye with his pretty smile.

“I love you too.”

We stood like that, savouring every second, until the band walked in and we reluctantly pulled away from eachother. Brian was first in the door and just caught John’s hands grazing my face.

“Ah, the two lovebirds!”

He laughed softly, rolling his eyes playfully. Roger came in right after, hearing Brian’s comment.

“What were they up to? Hope it wasn’t anything too raunchy.”

He snickered.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous Roger!”

Freddie scolded like a cross mother as he sauntered into the room.

“You know these two, they only ever kiss and cuddle and hold hands around us. Bit boring, if you ask me.”

He joked, winking at me. I rolled my eyes playfully at him, giggling slightly. I’d always had a soft spot for the eccentric frontman.

“Right boys, let’s go!”

He announced. I checked my watch and retreated to my seat in the corner to watch the band again.

Only an hour, I told myself. An hour sounded like years to me, though. I needed to be close to John again. I missed his tender touch already, his soft whispers, his gentle manner.

The rehearsal went by much the same as it had before - evidently the “10 minute break” didn’t do much good for anyone. The bickering picked up where it left off, and John stayed silent. Not much playing was done with the amount of arguing going on, meaning John was just sitting with his bass on his lap for a good majority of the next hour. I tried to catch his eye, my brows furrowed, but he seemed to know that if he looked at me I’d silently encourage him to speak up. So he avoided my glance.

We said our goodbyes to his bandmates and didn’t say a word until we were in the car. The tension between us hung thick in the air. When we closed the doors and sat into the car, I turned to face John from the passenger seat.

“You need to speak up when they carry on like that. It’s unfair to you, their bickering means you just sit there and do nothing at all. It’s a waste of your time.”

“I knew you were going to say that!” He exclaimed. He took a deep breath and sat back into his carseat with a stony expression.

“I can’t.” He sighed and massaged his temples, as though he had a headache. I could see him tense his jaw and could almost feel the angst and anger in him bubbling to the surface.

He slammed a fist against the wheel of the car - not particularly hard; almost in an exhausted manner. I wasn’t afraid, I knew he wouldn’t lay a finger on me; it just made me upset to see him like this. He pushed his hair back, exasperated. I lay my hand gently on his shoulder, feeling the cool, soft suede of his brown jacket. He sighed.

“I know you’re just trying to help me. I get it. But… I’ll figure it out on my own. It’s not like me to barge in and start arguing, I just don’t function like that. Just… give me a while and I’ll figure it out.”

“I know. I was just afraid they were pushing you around. I hate that you barely even got to play there.”

He smiled at me weakly.

“I know you’re concerned for me, and I appreciate it. I just prefer to deal with these things by myself.”

I smiled sympathetically back at him.

“I’m sorry, I should know that by now.”

I laid my hand on his lap.

“I just worry ‘bout you Deacs, that’s all.”

He gave me a proper smile now, showing me that perfect gap-toothed grin of his that I loved, rolling his eyes playfully.

“I’ll have you know I can take care of myself quite sufficiently by now!”

I played along and adorned a doubtful expression.

“Really? Maybe you should do it more often then.”

We both laughed, any and all tension completely dissipated. I smiled, feeling warm and happy, hand on John’s lap, as we drove back to his flat.

#queen band fanfic #freddie mercury #john deacon #deacy #roger taylor #brian may #fluff #light angst

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rushingheadlong · 1 year

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SEEKING: Beta and Sensitivity Readers

Hey everyone! As the title says, I’m looking for people to help me review the Hanahaki fic that I’ve been working on for the last two years.

The fic has already had one alpha reader and one round of revisions by myself. Ideally, I’d like to find 1 beta reader willing to give thorough feedback on the entire story and at least 1-2 sensitivity readers to help me vibe check specific details. Due to the heavy nature of this fic I would prefer readers be 21+.

More information about the story itself and what I’m looking for is below the read-more. If you’re interested in helping out, please send an ask or reach out on discord at RushingHeadlong#8660. Thanks! ♥

Fic Details:

Length: 100k (split into 4 parts and an epilogue)

Format: Written in 3rd person limited (Brian’s POV) and present-tense

Pairing: Most of the story features Jim/Freddie and one-sided Brian/Freddie and Brian/Jim.

Side and background pairings include: Brian/Chrissy, Roger/Debbie, and John/Veronica; Additional mentions include: Brian/Anita, Roger/Dom, and Bob Geldof/Paula Yates.

Timeline: Late 1986 - late 1991

Tropes/Themes: Alternate universe (timeline changes), Hanahaki, heavy angst and hurt/comfort, medical themes (including surgery, medical trauma, and chronic illnesses/pain), light sexual content

Additional Warnings: HIV/AIDS, cheating, suicidal thoughts, anticipated character death (no death occurs in the story), light homophobia (both internal and external)

Looking For:

1 Beta Reader who can provide thorough feedback on the entire story, both with regard to plot and writing mechanics. I don’t need every line dissected, but I am looking for someone who can give at least big-picture critiques on things that may not be working and point out any errors in the Queen timeline up until the point of divergence.

1-2 Sensitivity Readers who can provide specific feedback on the handling of the medical scenes and Brian’s feelings regarding his sexuality. At a minimum, I am looking for people with a solid base knowledge of the AIDS epidemic and the treatments available in the 80s/90s. Ideally these readers would be queer themselves, preferably queer men and/or aromantic people of any gender.

For all readers I am looking for people who can provide their feedback within 6-9 months (so no later than the end of 2023) since my goal is to have this story ready to post by April 2024.

I cannot provide monetary compensation however any readers who are able to give their complete feedback by the end of the year can request either a fic (minimum 3k words, any pairing including reader inserts) or a gifset (minimum 6 gifs with basic quality correction, any subject) of their choice.

#queen fic #queen fanfic #queen band fic #queen band fanfic #brian may fic #brian may fanfic #fic talk

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purple-eyesgreydragon · 5 months

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Trolls World Tour vs Trolls Band Together

I had the idea of an au fanfiction. If Barb had won, taken over the world, the troll leaders including Poppy turned into rock zombies. But enough of each tribe escaped with the help of sympathetic rock trolls to start a rebellion. Floyd never got captured. But BroZone still gets back together, to save Branch. Is blood thicker and their bond stronger than the power of 6 strings? I mean the powerchord is of hard rock, and the family harmony can shatter diamond. What’s a harder rock than diamond?

Please Reblog after voting.

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thatbennybee · 2 months

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Poppy's Super Sweet Sixteen!

She got a lucky photo op and took it :] Leave him alone, Braceface 🤨 He only wanted the cake

Art for Chapter 15 of my fanfic on AO3:

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idliketobeatree · 6 months

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it's been three months and I still haven't processed the Bentley playing Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy at Crowley (when I'm not with you, think of you always) as he drove (I miss you) back (just take me back to yours, that will be fine) to Aziraphale (love you) with a really sincere apology in mind (say the word, your wish is my command). barely a few seconds of normal driving in central London, squeezed in a plot point of "oh shit, extreme sanctions" and their meetup. easy to overlook. unless? it's literally top 5 of Their Queen Love Songs. in any context other than the sheer panic Crowley was experiencing I would take this scene to my grave as peak romanticism, because we know Bentley is an extension of Crowley's mind, and it feels like it tries to comfort him in that moment? (everything's all right, just hold on tight) Recognizing the crushing, overwhelming, all-encompassing love that Crowley is feeling, and boiling it down to simply being suave and charming, casual, like he so often pretends to be (I learned my passion in the good old-fashioned school of loverboys).

it's just the stuff of fanfics, but given to you in the typical Neil Gaiman fashion of subverting expectations, while also allowing for, well, gently playing on your heartstrings. I love it, I love that we got that, bless

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thatoneuserwho · 4 months

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Getting into the Trolls fandom was not on my 2024 bingo card. ANYWAYS CHECK OUT THIS FIC ITS SO CUTE

#trolls #trolls band together #trolls branch #trolls queen barb #trolls barb #trolls movie #trolls fanart #trolls fanfic #rock sibblings au

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4-orest · 3 months

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Trolls if they had twitter cause I’m bored :3 pt 1

If you have any headcanons or anything do let me know them 🤭

Personal headcanons for this au

- Riff is psychology major

- Barb has mommy issues

-Poppy has daddy issues lowkey but hides them with optimism and shit

-Trollex is a barb hater mostly cause he couldn’t just “rebuild” like everyone else could.

- Sid fret is Amps older brother (this is Amp btw)

-Poppy doesn’t believe in shame.

-Branch has tons of it

-Barb is a Mitski Stan

-Riff is a man hoe to his core

-Carol has known Barb since she was 3 she somehow doesn’t know that she and Barb are bffs , the day she finds out she will be the most hyper she’s ever been

-Riff is Barbs make shift therapist against her will 99.9% of the time.

-Barb has BPD

-John Dory has OCD

- Branch has autism

-Poppy has ADHD

-Poppy often times gets jealous cause branch is “hot” in pop village , sometimes she wishes he stayed gray so she’s the only one who would like him. Poppy has voiced this to Barb , Barb told her too go talk to Riff.

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daisymintt · 17 days

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Been noodling around with an angsty Trolls Fic idea I might write…

Post World Tour Branch gets stuck as a Rock Zombie, Poppy goes to his bunker in hopes of finding something that will break the spell. She finds a bunch of invitations and cards that she had given him over the years (she thought he had thrown most of them away) and behind all of them was a single beat up field journal. At the beginning the entries are very straightforward and factual with the occasional picture of some other trolls. After further investigation she realizes that the other trolls are Branches brothers who made up the band “Brozone”. After the events of the first movie the entries start to get more open emotionally. The most recent entry, dated the day they got the invite from Barb, said that Branch was going to tell Poppy that he loves her and wants to be more then friends. Poppy tears up at this and fades to a desaturated pink and her hair wilts. She hugs his journal to her chest takes a deep breath, her pink color returning as her determination to help Branch fills her. She sticks the journal in her hair and starts gathering supplies for her new adventure. She sets out on a mission to find and bring them all to Pop Village to help bring back Branch starting with John Dory and the Neverglades. Beginning of her journey parallels the first movie, she overcomes any challenges that come her way thanks to Branches survivalist training. After finding John Dory the rest of the story follows the same beats as Band Together from there. During the journey she is much more solemn than usual because she’s worried about Branch.

Back at Pop Village Tiny Diamond and her other friends are in charge of taking care of Branch who’s zombie condition is causing him to be more aggressive (think the animals affected by the night howlers in Zootopia)

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matthew-gray-gublers-babygirl · 1 year

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Friends will be friends - Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader (Chapter One)

Summary: Roger and the reader are best friends, and friends must always be there for each other, even if stronger feelings come into play.

AN: I randomly thought of this while getting something from the fridge. Chapter two coming later today.

Warnings: Mention of breaking up, sad Roger, comforting, no swearing (surprisingly?), hidden feelings, friends to lovers

Word count: <1k

Enjoy!

On a Saturday night, you sat alone in your flat, slumped on the couch with a fashion magazine. You were expecting a drunken call from your best friend, Roger, complaining about how you didn't come and how you were missing out. You've known Roger for a long time. You were the best of friends.

Your girlfriends, and even some guys, have questioned how you are able to befriend such an attractive man while not attempting to date him. The truth was that you had feelings for Roger. You tried to deny your feelings for him, but there was nothing you could do about who you were and who you weren't attracted to.

You promptly answer the phone when it rings. "What's up?" you say into the receiver, assuming it's Roger. On the other end, you can hear heavy breathing, as if the person was hyperventilating. “Roger? "Are you there?" you inquire. "Jo... she..." he sobs, his breathing becomes uncontrollable. "Can you tell me what happened? Take your time," you say as you guide Roger through his breathing.

"She- she broke up with me," he mumbles. Would Jo really do something like that? They appeared to be a happy couple from your perspective. What could have caused that to happen? "I'll be there right away. Are you home?" you inquire, and he hums. "Y-yeah, yeah, I'm back home." You say your goodbyes quickly and walk out the door. You speed over to Rogers, almost hitting three red lights in the process.

You gained entry into his flat. Roger is curled up on the floor below where the phone is hung on the wall. You sprint over to him, taking him into your arms and letting him cry into your shoulder. You whisper soothing words of "It's going to be okay," and "I've got you."

Roger's agonizing sobs made your heart ache. Roger has never been struck by such emotion before. You had no notion that he could be so vulnerable.

You managed to get him onto the couch and off the hardwood floor. You take a pillow and place it on your lap while he rests his head on it. "I thought she loved me..." he murmured. As he speaks, you try not to cry. "Some people simply lose love, and there is nothing we can do about it. We're all human, and people change. But that doesn't mean there isn't someone else for you out there."

You adored Roger wholeheartedly. He had been your shoulder to cry on all these years, and now he had yours. You could confess your feelings for him and pour your heart out to him, but you wouldn't allow yourself to do it. You had feelings for Roger, but you were also his best friend. He could have called one of the guys, but instead, he called you because he knew you were always there for him.

Roger sniffles and wipes his eyes away as his sobs subside. "What if I don't find somebody?"

"Perhaps they're looking for you." Your fingers run gently through his hair, and he hums at the soothing sensation. His breath smelled strongly of alcohol. You weren't surprised he was drinking. Roger had a minor drinking problem that coincided with his love of partying. "Come on, let's get you up and into bed." He groans like a child, but you manage to get him to his room and put him down. "I should go home now, but I'm always around to talk. Okay?”

“Stay,” he says. “What?” you ask, genuinely confused. “I- I can fix up the extra room if you want. I just don't want to be alone. Please don't leave me.” the desperation in his voice brings tears to your eyes. The room was far too dim for him to see.

“I’ll stay. Roll over," you say. You lie down behind him as he rolls onto his side. You spoon him gently from behind, and he melts into your embrace. “Get some sleep, okay?” Roger gives a nod. You exchange a quick 'goodnight' before he drifts off to sleep. But you stay awake, staring into the back of his head as tears well up in your eyes with the fear of being only seen as a friend. Read Chapter Two -> Here

#roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor fanfics #roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor #roger taylor queen #roger taylor queen band #roger meddows taylor #roger meddows taylor queen #queen band #queen fanfiction #queen fandom #roger taylor fandom #rogertaylordrummer #fanfiction #queen #queen band fanfic #friends to lovers #friends to lovers fan fiction

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your-one-day-ecstasy · 13 days

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Chapters: 1

Fandom: Queen (Band)

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Joe Fanelli/Freddie Mercury

Characters: Joe Fanelli, Freddie Mercury, Peter "Phoebe" Freestone

Tags: 80s Club scene, hanky code

Summary:

All Freddie wanted was to escape for one night. All Joe wanted was to avoid Freddie. Maybe The Saint wasn't the best choice. Written for @fanellifest Day 2: The Gay Scene

#queen band fanfic #queen fanfiction #my fic #fanellifest2024 #fanellifest

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staplegxnn · 4 months

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GUYYSSSS IM WRITING FANFICTION

Sooooo im kind of a well known fanfiction writer on wattpad, I write a lot of smut, fluff, and angst, and I do it without a care in the world and with one hand down my shorts.

My currently fandom is one singular little whore I love to call the trolls fandom. We are all sluts don’t deny it. HERE ARE MY SHIPSSSS

Poppy x Barb

Poppy x branch

Poppy x barb x branch

Barb x Viva

Floyd x Riff

JD x Hickory

Branch x Hickory

Trollex x Barb

Veneer x kidritz

Clay x trollex

Any of the above character(s) x reader/oc!!!

YOU ***CAN***REQUEST CHARACTERS THAT ARE NOT LISTED!!!! PLEASE ASK ABOUT A CHARACTERS SEXUALITY BEFORE REQUESTING A SHIP OR X READER!!!

GIVE ME SUGGESTIONS AND IDEAS!!!! The one I’m currently working on is Poppy x Barb x Branch fluff

I WILL DO SMUT. DO NOT REQUEST SMUT IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 16. **I WILL NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES DO R*PE, INCEST, OR PROSHIPS. THAT IS GROSS. IF YOU REQUEST IT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED**

Peace and love my babies, eat your hearts out

#trolls parb #velvet and veneer #velvet trolls #trolls band together #fanfic #trolls fanfic #trolls floyd #fliff trolls #veneer x kid ritz #sugestions #queen poppy #branch x poppy #x reader

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hotspace39 · 4 months

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I’m itching to write something so if anyone has specific fanfic requests … fire away 😚

#queen band #freddie mercury #john deacon #roger taylor #brian may #queen band fanfic #doctor who #fanfic

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rushingheadlong · 2 years

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Summary: Freddie, leather, and a night out at the Mineshaft.

Tags: Rated M, Gen, Leather Culture, Drug Mentions, Kink Mentions, Clubbing

Notes: Happy Pride y’all! This year I’m celebrating with a thorough appreciation of Freddie in the Leather community, starting with this fic which was written for Freddie Mercury Weekend 2022.

The Mineshaft was a gay leather and sex club in NYC that Freddie was a member of (and in fact, the shirt Freddie wears in the “Don’t Stop Me Now” music video has the Mineshaft logo on it). Specific inspiration for this fic came from this photo of the Mineshaft dress code and this (SFW) Tom of Finland drawing.

Title stolen from, but not inspired by, the song “The New Routine” by Bob Geldof.