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hiken-no-stark · 6 years ago

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Don't call me babe, Brian! (Request Brian May x Reader)

A/N: I'm really sorry for the long wait ToT But better late than never (?) Anon hope you like it :) And thank you @freddiesstache for the help.

Pairing: Brian May x Reader; Gwilym Lee as Brian May x Reader (Who you want ;) )

Word Count: 1.7 k

Warnings: Angst, smut.

+++++++++++++++++++++

A Night at the Opera promised to be one of the best albums of Queen. The boys were very excited the nerves were also setting in, wondering if they actually did a good job and also stressed for make a good job . The idea of moving away from civilization for God knows how long it seemed to you an exaggeration, besides you felt that your relationship was not the same as it was before. You understand that this is his career, this is what he liked to do and you wanted to support him, but you need him, you need him by your side, you missed all the days he spent with you doing mundane stuff other couples do. But you were not a couple like the others, and that made your relationship so special or that was what you thought.

"Babe, have you seen my jacket?" Brian asks while you're watching him pack. Quickly you wipe a tear that is rolling down your cheek.

"No, I don't know where it is." You answer looking away. Just one day more and he will go... Again.

"(Y/N), what's wrong?" He leaves his suitcase aside and approaches to you, holding your face.

"Don't go, please. Don't leave me." You whisper, trying to hold your tears.

"Babe, we already talked about this." He kisses your forehead. "You know this album is very important for me and the band, this can be the beginning of a new era for Queen."

"What about me? What about us? Our relationship is not important?"

"(Y/N), come on." Brian look at you in the eyes. "You know how much I care." You move away from him and he sighs.

"It doesn't seem like it." You murmur.

"(Y/N) listen, I promise this is the last time. When I come back we can take a break from all of this. We can go out of the city, just you and me, all the time you want. Would you like it?" You sigh and turn around for look at him.

"Brian, it's not the first time you promised that." He stroked his hair. "And I don't trust you anymore."

"(Y/N), I think you're exaggerating."

That was the straw that spilled the glass. You frown and walk to him.

"I'm just asking you for some attention. Is that bad? I'm your girlfriend, good dammit."

"Ok, ok, hold on. Relax, babe."

"Don't call me babe, Brian!" You yell and he raised his hands in defense.

"Ok, (Y/N), just give me time, this album is very important for me, just try to understand me, please."

"No, YOU try to understand ME."

"I do it, bab-(Y/N). I really do ."

"No, you don't. You only care about the band and the new album."

"You know how important is this for me." He says calmly. How can he be so quiet when you are about to collapse in front of him? "This is my career, (Y/N). I thought we were together in this."

"Me too." You say.

"For fuck' sake." Brian holds your arms, caressing them. "You need to relax, babe. Take a seat and I'll bring you a cup of tea."

"Let me go." You loosen of his grip and he sighs again, looking to the floor. He bites his lip and looks at you.

"I've had enough of this, (Y/N). I've been very patient with you, but that's enough." He says approaching to you. Instinctively you move back. "Who the fuck you think is paying the rent of this apartment? And who the fuck is paying all the beautiful clothes you wear? The fucking food that is in the fridge? I have sacrificed a lot for this band and for being in the place where I am now. I'm doing this for you and you want me to stay here just for endure a tantrum."

Before you could think your hand moves and smack his cheek. That was the first time you hit him, but all the emotions inside you were too much for you to hold in.

Your cheeks were full of tears and your body trembling a little for all the adrenaline. Brian smiles a little and look at you, caressing his cheek and then he pass by your side, walking to the door.

"You are not the only one who has sacrificed!" You yell before he leaves. Brian stays at the door, holding the latch. "I left my career aside to be with you. For be here supporting you in YOUR career." You sob, wiping the tears with your hands. "I'll support you with all my heart, but you don't support me back."

You run to the bathroom, locking the door. You heard the front door slam.

+++

After crying a lot in the bathroom floor, you decided take a bath and lay on the bed just thinking in what had happened. What if Brian never comes back? What if he never want to talk you again? What if...? What if...? Between that thoughts you fall asleep, just to wake up with a gentle touch on your cheek. You blink quickly for focus in the mass of curly hair in front of you.

"Brian?" You whisper, he smiles and move a lock of hair of your face.

"Rest, babe." He says, with the soft and gentle voice as always. Like nothing happened just hours ago.

"Brian." You sob and sit down hugging him. "I thought you wouldn't come back."

"Shh... It's ok, babe. I'm here." He caress your hair.

"I'm sorry for what I said and for slapping you." You hold him stronger, crying in his chest.

"It's ok (Y/N). I am the one who should apologize." Brian holds your face and wipe your tears with his thumbs. "You're right. I have been unfair to you. Listen, I talked with the guys and..." You interrupt him with your lips.

"Just kiss me, Brian." You whisper.

Then he kiss you while you wrap your arms around his neck. Slowly he lays you on the bed again, his hands move to your hips holding you close to his body and you moan lightly against his lips. Brian deviates his attention to your neck, kissing and biting you. You hold his hair moaning when he licks behind your ear.

Your hands start to look for the buttons of his shirt, and slide it over his shoulders and leave it fall to the floor. Brian's hands hold the hem of the old t-shirt of him you wear like a pajama, leaving it to fall next to his clothes.

His hands caress your sides while you hold his face for kiss him again, this time passionately, showing him how much you need him. He lifts your back a little to unclasp your bra. Then his big hands caress your breasts, squeezing them softly.

"Brian." You moan against his lips, he smirk and descend to your tits, starting to lick your nipples. You moan tangling your fingers in his curly hair. You arch your back when he sucks hard. Then your hands descend to his pants, unzipping them.

Brian raises up off the bed and you pull off his pants with his underwear, looking for a condom on the nightstand. Quickly you slide your panties down your legs and he climbs between them. Brian hold your legs lifting them and look at you smirking, just one second later he goes down and start licking your folds and without a warning he inserts one finger.

"Shit, Brian." You whimper, squirming under him, holding his curls. "Oh God." He smirks against your clit and continues licking it.

Moments later he raise up, licking his lips, pleased with the image in front of him. Your hair making a halo around your head, your eyes half-closed, cheeks flushed and your mouth open breathing heavily.

"Brian." You whisper lifting your hands, trying to hold his dick, you lick your lips at the thought of having it in your mouth.

"Not this time, babe." Brian hold your hands.

"But..."

"It's ok, maybe the next time." He kisses your knuckles and then take the condom to slide it over his length.

Brian hold your legs and lift them again, and enters in you with one thrust. You moan loudly, holding the pillow under your head.

When he starts to move you lift your arms again, trying to bring him closer to you, he smiles and lays over you, holding his weight in his arms. Quickly your legs found their place around his waist. His lips are in your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses.

"Bri-Brian!" You yell when he increased his pace, scratching his back. "Right there. Oh my God, Brian."

His heavy breathing announces you that he's close to his release and you too. One of his hands slides between your bodies and start to caress your clit making quick circles.

Suddenly you cum bring Brian with you.

He hold strongly the sheets around you and shut his eyes, enjoying the feel of your tight pussy around him, while he cums inside the condom.

Minutes later, he's holding you in his arms, caressing your back.

"(Y/N)."

"Yeah?" You whisper, making little circles on his chest.

"I talked with the boys this afternoon and they accepted that you accompany us."

"What?" You look at him and he smiles.

"I know it's not what you expected but..." You cut him off.

"It's more than I expected." He smiles and give you a kiss.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Bonus

"Darling, it really was a good idea to bring you with us." Freddie says before take a mouthful of the food you made for dinner. "And not only for this delight, also for other things." He looks suspiciously to Brian.

"What are you talking about?" You look at one and another, looking for a hint of what are they hiding.

"Oh, nothing, darling. We just believe that we can put your beautiful moans in the album."

"WHAT!?"

Roger try to hold his laugh, while John and Brian just deny with the head, smiling.

"Oh, don't be embarrassed, darling. I'm glad that our Brian knows what he's doing."

"Brian!" You yell at him.

"Sorry, babe. But I agree with them. Your moans are so sweet."

Quickly you rise from the table and leave the room with Brian behind you.

"Don't forget the tape recorder, Brian! We need that moans!"

#brian may x reader #brian may #gwilyn lee as brian may #gwilyn lee x reader #borhap movie #queen #brian may imagine #queen stuff

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mainadjacent · 6 years ago

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Sticking to the Script (p. 4)

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader, one-sided Ben Hardy x Reader

Summary: You are the star of the hit TV show, “Winthrope Manor” and you’ve just got a new costar, Gwilym Lee who happens to bring around his friend, Ben Hardy, to set. You develop feelings for Ben, but they’re not well received. Lucky for you, your costar is there to help make things better.

Author’s Note: I am so sorry about how delayed this has been! I started a new job and the hours are long! Plus, I spend all day typing and looking at a computer so when I get back that not necessarily what I want to be doing. But! This is the longest chapter to date @ 3.6k!! I really did enjoy writing this too!

Tag List

Warnings: Light swearing and some (fake) injury description.

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

PART 4

The next morning you have a biting headache. It doesn’t help that you have to be on set extra early because you’re doing special effects makeup. In this week’s episode, Violet falls off a horse and is bed-ridden with serious injuries and while no one is making you jump off of a horse, you are going to have to sit through at least an hour of fake blood, rigid collodion and harsh makeup lights.

“You look like shit and I’m not talking about the blood,” says Kevin McIntyre, the actor who plays Matthew, the middle Winthrope child, and your onscreen brother.

You laugh sourly and flash him an obscene gesture as he plops down in the chair next to yours.

“I went out drinking with Gwilym last night,” you admit.

“You know, since I’m contractually obligated to at least act like I care about you I’m going to go ahead and say I think it’s a bad idea for you to be getting romantically involved with the guy playing your love interest again seeing as it didn’t go too well last time and—”

“It’s not like that!” you interrupt so hastily that you startle Vicki, the makeup artist.

“I went with him and some of his friends. Trust me it, it was not romantic at all. It was actually kind of weird.”

“Weird how?”

You suddenly become keenly aware of the other presences around the set, all keen to hear what you have to say, and you avoid divulging too much.

“I don’t know. Just weird.”

“Well, I think this just goes to prove that you probably steer clear of alcohol. And just men in general.”

“Great advice. Now be a good non-brother and go get me something greasy from craft, please? My head is throbbing.”

Kevin begrudgingly gets up from the chair he’s splayed across, “I’m only going because I want a donut.”

“Get me something caffeinated, too!”

Your phone gives a buzz and you dive across the vanity to get it, much to Vicki’s chagrin.

Hey! I forgot to tell you, Gwil home last night! Thanks for the help!

It’s from Joe. Last night, he had appeared just as Gwil had so oddly decided to leave.

“What’s wrong?” he had asked, clearly as confused as you were.

“I don’t know, one minute we were talking, the next he just decided to leave. I think he might have had a bit too much to drink. I don’t know.”

Joe gave you a look that could pass for almost pity.

“I’ll go after him,” he turned into the throng of people.

“Wait! You have to let me know if you get him home okay!”

“Right, fine. Here,” he handed you a sleek, black phone, “Give me your number and I’ll text you.”

You smile at Joe graciously as you hand back his phone.

“Oh, and can you let Lucy and Rami know what happened?” You nod. “It was nice meeting you! Get home safe!”

Hey Joe! Thanks for the help last night. Pretty sure I would’ve gotten in major trouble if I lost my costar. You’re a lifesaver! :)

_____

Vicki finally finishes with your face and you thank her profusely as you admire her work in the vanity mirror. She really had done an amazing job. There’s a gnarly gash running across your right temple, your eyelid a deep purple color and bruises doting your left cheekbone. Your lip has a deep, bloody split running down the middle of it.

“I thought Vicki was supposed to make you look worse, not better,” jokes Kevin as he presents you with a breakfast sandwich and a tall cup of iced coffee.

“Very funny,” you flip him off before lunging at your coffee.

“Hey, by the way, have you seen if Gwil’s here yet, I want to make sure he’s alright,” you say casually as you tear a piece off of your sandwich.

“Gwil’s not on the call list today. He’s probably not shooting your guys’ scene until tomorrow.”

By the way that he’s eying you up you can tell that Kevin is waiting to see how you respond to this information and this somehow makes you feel like you’re hiding something.

“Huh, I must have gotten my days confused,” you say innocently.

You can tell that Kevin’s not buying whatever it is you’re trying to sell.

“Listen, I know you said it wasn’t like that, but anyone with eyes can tell that you and Gwil have some sort of chemistry thing going on. Every time you two shoot scenes together it’s like you guys are holding back from ripping each other’s clothes off and there’s a running bet for when you two are going to get together. So, why don’t you just stop pretending that you’re not into him?”

This all hits you like a ton of bricks. “First of all, Kevin, have you ever considered that maybe we’re just really great actors that are really committed to our roles? Also, up until last week, Ben and I clearly had something going on so there’s that. And, didn’t you just tell me to avoid guys all together? Now you’re telling me to admit my so-called feelings for Gwil, what’s up with that?”

“Okay, listen,” Kevin says calmly, as he sips his own iced coffee, “I can’t speak for Gwil but I’ve been acting with you for over a year and I know, for a fact, you’re not that good of an actor, okay? There’s definitely something going on there. Secondly, who the hell is Ben? That X-Men pretty boy? No offense, but he hasn’t been around the set for ages and based on what you just said, he doesn’t seem super interested either. And also, I know I told you to avoid men altogether, but I just joined the betting pool and if you get together with Gwil by next Tuesday, I win $1,500,” this last part he says in a rush.

You’re pretty sure if you lunge at your costar, you’ll ruin your makeup and at the risk of pissing off Vicki, you settle to just glare at him. Before you can even retort, though, he is called to set and leaves you there, seething.

Is there any truth to what Kevin said, you ask yourself. What he said about Ben was harsh, to say the least, but was he wrong? Last night proved that Ben wasn’t just ignoring you, he was straight up avoiding you. Kevin was right, you might as well just let that go. You have plenty of experience giving yourself to others for little in return, it gets old.

Gwil was a more complicated topic for you. The two of you were clearly friends, and you are fond of him. The complicated part of falling in love with someone on screen, you realize, is that some of that have a tendency to transfer into your off-screen relationship. Maybe it wasn’t that way for everybody, but you feel things deeply. That’s what makes you a good actor, but sometimes it can get in the way.

Before you can delve further into your feelings (yuck), you’re called onto set.

_____

You spend the rest of the day on set. The episode is very Violet-centric on account of her accident. The show is really trying to push the fear that Violet may not survive, so there’s a lot of tears and tense moments. On the bright side, you spend the entire shoot in bed and without a corset and half the time you just have to lay there while the other characters talk.

You are distracted though, and you can feel the rest of the cast’s frustration as they call for yet another take after you forget one of your few lines. You don’t even blame them for being mad at you. You’re also angry at yourself because every time the soundstage door opens, your eyes flash to it, half expecting Gwil to burst through it even though you know he’s not here today. You have no other choice than to throw yourself into your performance, though, because you’re pretty sure that if you don’t stop ruining takes they’ll reconsider not killing your character off.

The day of filming drags on into the night and by the time you’re on your way home, it’s well past 11. You check your phone, half-hoping for a text from Gwil—the irony that only a week ago you were agonizing over a text from Ben and now you’re in the same position but with Gwil isn’t lost on you—but there’s no message from him.

The next day, you roll back onto set early again. The weight of two sleepless nights slogs you down but you are slightly comforted in the fact that Gwil will be here today and you finally get to talk to him about the other night.

Except you don’t. He’s not on the call list and your scene together has been pushed back yet another day. You try not to show how disappointed you are.

Apparently, though, you are more transparent than you think because, while checking Instagram during lunch you notice that Kevin tagged you in a picture on his story. It’s a candid of you sitting in the makeup chair that morning morosely looking at your phone, you obviously were unaware that the picture was being taken. Underneath your head, in large white print, it said, “Someone’s grumpy bc her bf is gone” along with a bunch of crying stickers surrounding you. You can already imagine the call you’re going to get from your publicist about “professionalism” and “relationships in the public eye” and “Didn’t you already try dating a costar? How did that go, again?”.

You want to scream and hide away in your trailer and maybe even call Gwil for some reason but instead you settle for giving Kevin a good smack upside the head.

If you were a bit peeved and distracted before, you were flat-out irritated now, which made the day drag on longer and longer (if that was even possible). You could say with certainty that all you wanted to do was go home and burrow into bed possibly forever, but you soldiered on. Eventually, the night closes out and you go home again. You must have been in a melancholy mood, though, because as you walk through the parking lot to your car, all you can think about was the night of your first scene with Gwil and how he had awkwardly walked you to your car.

You can’t seem to stop thinking about him ever since your night out. At first, you would just think circles around what had happened that night, after all, it had been confusing, with him just getting up and leaving, giving no explanation. You would catch yourself playing over every last minute of that night, pinning it out like a displayed butterfly, trying to catch what huge, gaping detail you had missed that night.

However, you had recently caught your thoughts straying from that night with Gwil, to just Gwil. You would catch yourself at any given moment, any spare second, thinking about Gwil: what he was doing or whether or not he would like what the PAs brought in for lunch or if he would also find that part of the script funny. When you read something interesting or see something ridiculous you instinctually want to show him. In short, he does not cross your mind anymore, he lives in it.

You wish it would stop.

___________

The object of your distraction is on set the next day and you wanted nothing more than to finally confront him about his behavior, so you could finally be rid of your plaguing thoughts. You haven’t seen him yet, but the first thing you do when you get to set at 6 AM is check the call sheet and his name is right there underneath the day’s date.

Gwilym Lee.

You can feel your increasing jitteriness as your morning makeup transformation is underway.

“Can you stay still, sweetie?” Vicki asks after the umpteenth time you accidentally nudged her hand out of place with your twitching.

“Sorry, Vicki must have drunk too much coffee this morning. At least it’s our last day of this, right?”

“Right,” Vicki says piercingly, and you don’t know who’s more relieved that Violet’s injury scenes are done, you or her.

Eventually, you are steward onto set, looking as gory and beaten as the first day. You get there a bit early in hopes that Gwil would be there already. He has a very British habit of being early to things, but he hasn’t shown up yet and you can only stand around petulantly for so long before the director calls for you to be in your spot.

Finally, just about the director is about to call action, Gwil fumbles onto set, a costumer trailing behind him, seemingly making last minute adjustments. He mumbles apologies to the crew before getting into place. You try to meet his eye, but he purposefully avoids looking in your direction. You want to bounce up on Violet’s stiff bed and yell at him in front of everyone here.

Hey! I’m right here and you owe me an explanation! You owe me something! Anything!

He moves to the side of the soundstage; he’s not supposed to enter until mid-scene. Edmund finds out about Violet’s accident and travels all the way to her home to visit her. At this point, Violet is more or less unresponsive and Edmund, in a private moment of vulnerability, declares how much he cares for Violet. Violet, however, is unconscious and cannot hear him. The whole scene is frustrating, in your opinion and you can’t help but feel sorry for Edmund and for Violet, too. You think how unfair it is for her, to have someone declare their feelings for her and her not be cognizant enough to even realize it. It’s almost tragic.

For the most part, your role in these upcoming scenes is pretty simple: all you have to do is lay there, looking injured and close to death. The position gives you the freedom to allow your mind to wander. You pointedly avoid thinking about Gwil, though and instead focus on keeping your mind at peace. You think about what you want for lunch; about your plans for the weekend; about whether or not you’ve called your mom recently. You drown your mind in mundane thoughts to keep your nerves at bay. You’re finally coming face to face with Gwil and for some reason, the weight of this moment feels momentous. So, you try to think of anything but. That only works for so long though, you realize as you hear them cue for Gwil to enter the scene.

He’s at your—Violet’s—bedside in three long strides and you can’t help but feel your heart jolt at the reality of him being so close to you after having only housed him in your mind for what seemed an eternity. You’re caught by surprise as his hand reaches gently for yours. He holds your small hand in his two broad ones delicately, desperately.

“Violet,” he says softly, like a prayer and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have him say your real name like that. Your heart shifts as you attempt to remind yourself that none of this is real and you and Gwil don’t actually have feelings for each other.

“I am so sorry,” he says with the same quiet fervor. You are struck by how exposed he sounds, and it strikes you, that maybe he’s talking to you, not Violet.

He splays his fingers over your and you’re infected with the memory of him guiding you through the city streets, fingers interlaced with your own.

“Please make it through, your family needs you, your company needs you… I need you.”

In your experience, having to act unconscious while other actors act is difficult, but this was almost unbearable. Gwil was heartbreakingly convincing and you wanted to reach out, squeeze his hand, do something.

You hold back and instead you focus on maintaining an unchanged expression. Even when the director calls for a cut and then a retake you are tentative to open your eyes. You can feel Gwil lingering next to you before getting back on his mark to shoot again. Only a few moments ago, you wanted to open your eyes, to see him but now, faced with the realities of that, you cowered. So, you keep your eyes closed.

You film the scene three more times, and each one of those times, you wait until Gwil is a distance away before coming alive to take criticism and direction. Part of you feared that if you did look at each other or spoke, your resolve would break and you wouldn’t be able to focus on the scene.

Eventually, your director is happy enough with your performance to let you go. When Vicki pulls you off the soundstage to remove your faux injuries, you are hit with the realization that you have no more scenes to film, which, considering your last two long night, makes you want to cry. You also realize that Gwil has also been released—you finally have a moment to talk to him. The only thing standing in your way is Vicki and her ridiculously long makeup removal process—all sorts of cleaning and scrubbing and steaming. Since it's your last day with the makeup, she makes the process even longer, spouting off all the harm rigid collodion could do to your skin. You try to hurry the process up as much as possible, you don’t want to miss Gwil. After what seems like forever, Vicki sets you free, but not before slathering your face in a heavy, green facemask.

“Make sure to rinse it off when you get home,” she directs harshly.

At this point, you are certain Gwil is gone, and it’s for the better you think, lest he saw you green-faced.

You walk to your care slowly, the weight of the day dragging behind you. Maybe you’ll talk to him tomorrow.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts, you don’t register the long spindly frame leaning against your car. It’s Gwil.

“What’s on your face?”

You blush, “Facemask, for all the gunk. What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you, although I was about ready to give up, to be honest.”

You laugh, “I don’t blame you, Vicki can be brutal.”

The two of you stand in front of your car silently, both pointedly looking away.

“So, I want—”

“Listen I was—”

You both say at the same time and you exchange awkward looks before you insist that he speak first.”

I wanted to apologize,” he begins, “for how I behaved that night at the bar. I don’t know what came over me. I must have drunk too much, I suppose.”

You look at him for a long moment. “That’s it?”

“Yes… I suppose so,” he obviously was not expecting this question, “Have I mentioned how sorry I was?”

“That’s all you have to say? No further explanation?” You realize that you have been waiting to have this conversation for days, and Gwil’s dry and vague apology falls short of how you imagined this conversation would go.

“Not at the moment. I am sorry though, I haven’t stopped thinking about how I acted. I’ve been ruminating over it actually these last few days, almost obsessing. But I don’t know what else to say.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” you remind him. You know that there’s more to that night than he lets on.

“I know,” he says, suddenly meek, and then, “If you don’t want to forgive me, I understand. Although, I will say that I was ready to offer some quality ice cream from the creamery down the street if all of this just went away.”

You laugh, unguarded after what feels like forever, “Ice cream you say?”

“Yes, the good stuff, too! But I don’t know if you’d want to go anywhere with… that.” He gestures to your green, goopy face.

You swat his hand playfully.

“No, I can’t, I have to rinse it off soon anyway.”

Then, you are struck by an idea, “Maybe we can take the ice cream to my place?”

The words are out of your mouth before you have time to think about them. Yikes. You just invited Gwil to your place, in the evening, with ice cream. There could be a lot of subtexts there, especially considering your weird, unresolved stance with one another. Before you can interject with some sort of excuse or negation though, he responds.

“I would love that.”

PART 5

TAGS: @xbarrjallenx @alexfayer @chlobo6 @softbenhardy

#gwilym lee #gwilyn lee x reader #gwilyn lee imagine #gwilym x reader #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody fanfiction #bohemian rhapsody imagine #borhap imagine #borhap fanfic #borhap

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benismyqueen · 3 years ago

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Here comes the sun. 7

A/N: ¡Solo queda una parte más y el epílogo! Disculpad si hay algún fallo o algo, no tuve tiempo de editarlo.

Advertencias: Un poco de angustia.

Palabras: 6076 (!¡)

Alina durante semanas no supo que decisión debía tomar. Al principio Blaine lo entendió, no era una decisión que debía tomarse a la ligera, pero después de tanto tiempo empezó a preocuparse.

Ella principalmente pensaba en que deseaba ella, sin pensar en nadie más, pero tenía tanto miedo de la respuesta, que siempre terminaba pensando en los deseos de Blaine, y en lo mucho que él la amaba. Era muy afortunada de tener a su lado a una persona como él.

Durante todas estas semanas también evitó a los chicos, cualquier cosa que tuviese que ver con Roger la enfurecía. A menudo vió a Mary, quién sin mencionar al rubio (sabía que algo gordo debía de haber sucedido, aunque ninguno de los chicos dió detalles), le hizo llegar lo mucho que los chicos la echaban de menos. También le hizo llegar la buena noticia de que se irían de gira mundial con su nuevo disco en dos semanas.

Eso la revolvió el estómago. Nunca habían estado tanto tiempo fuera de casa, y sabe que su padre los ama demasiado y querrá hacer una comida de despedida. Y sabe que no podrá evitar para siempre a Roger. Por mucho que le gustaría volver a verlo después de la gira, cuando hayan pasado meses, vuelva con una muchacha en su brazo, y puedan olvidar lo que se dijeron aquel día.

Pero sobre todo lo que más teme, es que al verlo pueda sentir que tomó la decisión equivocada, sentir que el tuvo razón y no cree que pueda vivir tranquila sintiendo que se equivocó. Pero no puede hacerle eso a Blaine. Él la quiere y ella le quiere. No puede arriesgar lo bueno que tiene por una persona intermitente. Por mucho que le quisiese desde los diecisiete. Ya no es una niña, y él tampoco.

Está terminando el registro de la tienda, cuendo suena el timbre que avisa de un nuevo cliente.

"Vaya, sigues viva" Brian entra con las manos en los bolsillos de sus pantalones.

"¡Brian!" No fue consciente de lo mucho que lo había echado de menos hasta ese momento. Pero rápidamente su vista vuelve a la puerta.

"He venido solo" Suelta el aire que no sabía que estaba conteniendo. "Bueno Freddie quería venir, pero necesitaba hablar contigo. ¿Cómo estás?"

Se encoge de hombros. "Estoy algo agobiada, tengo toda mi habitación desordenada, ya sabes llena de cajas... la mudanza..."

"Me refería a Roger"

"No sé si quiero hablar de él" Vuelve su vista a los papeles, esperando que Brian desista. Lo que no sabe es que después de conseguir que su amigo se abriese con él, no piensa detenerse. Nada es tan difícil como hablar con Roger.

"Él si me ha hablado de ti" Miente. Después de aquel día ignora su existencia. Si alguien menciona a la chica se vuelve silencioso y ausente. Y la otra parte del tiempo se la pasa siendo un insufrible e insoportable. Ya nadie le aguanta. Y tenía dos opciones. Hacer que ambos hablen y arreglen sus problemas, o terminar con la banda.

"¿Qué de mi?" El intento de Alina por sonar indiferente es lamentable.

"Te echa de menos" Directamente nunca mencionó esas palabras, pero es evidente. "Deberías hablar con él"

En ese momento Alina sabe lo que está haciendo. Roger nunca ha dicho eso.

"Entonces debería venir él y decírmelo. Y quizá con unas disculpas me pienso si quiero hablar con él." Brian rueda los ojos mientras suspira. No puede ser que ambos sean igual de tercos.

"¿Por qué no puedes dar el paso? Hazlo por nosotros, por los que tenemos que lidiar con su mal humor. Realmente te echa de menos. Y se arrepiente"

"Claro que no se arrepiente" Roger nunca se arrepiente de nada de lo que hace o lo que dice. Quizá si de la forma que lo hace, pero nunca por hacerlo. Si hace algo o dice algo es porque realmente así lo sintió en ese momento. Y a día de hoy sigue sintiendo lo que dijo a la chica. Quizá debió ser antes, o quizá de otra forma, pero siente que hizo lo que sentía, y no se arrepiente.

"¿Sabes que tu padre en unos días hará una comida de despedida?, ¿realmente dejarás que ese día sea el de vuestro incómodo reencuentro?, o mejor aún, ¿dejarás que se vaya sin arreglar las cosas?"

Si, quiso responder. Aunque sabe que lo echará muchísimo de menos, y que todas las noches tendrá la necesidad imperiosa de llamarlo, de decirle que está todo bien y que quiere a su amigo de vuelta. Pero aquel día todo cambió. Y no sabe si algún día podrán volver a estar como antes.

"No creo que sea buena idea. He tomado una decisión, necesitaba su apoyo, y él tomó su propia decisión. No hay nada más que hablar."

"Alina te lo suplico" En ese momento pudo jurar que Brian casi cae a sus pies suplicando. "Ve a verlo y haced las paces" Puede ver en sus ojos suplicantes la desesperación. "Estos últimos días ha estado actuando probablemente tres veces más el imbécil que es. Normalmente es gracioso, pero está siendo desagradable y un gilipollas. Nunca he conocido a un chico con un talento como el suyo para caer mal a los demás, y todos sabemos que de no ser por su encanto personal, ya lo habría golpeado. Así que por favor, habla con él. No te pido que seas amable, simplemente ve a verlo, para que así deje de atormentar a todo el mundo."

"Roger no es mi problema" se limita a contestar. "Y debería comportarse como un adulto y comprender que no tiene ningún derecho a decir esas cosas."

"Roger no tiene el derecho a decir el noventa por ciento de lo que sale de su boca a diario. No es como si eso lo hubiese detenido antes."

"¿Por qué le importa de todas formas? No tiene nada que ver con él."

"La cosa es..." Brian no sabe de donde está sacando la paciencia para no abrir sus ojos a la fuerza. "En su mundo, todo tiene que ver con él."

"Esto no"

"Escucha" El moreno pone sus manos sobre sus hombros. "Conozco a este chico desde que es un niño, y hasta hace muy poco ha luchado por superar unos traumas y una parte de él que aún no conoces. Y honestamente, me da igual, porque este hombre siente cosas por ti."

Omite el hecho de estar terriblemente enamorado, quiere ayudar a su amigo. No venderlo.

"Y tú no has tenido el intenso, y digo intenso disgusto de aguantarlos a ambos desde que os conocéis. Estabais tan ocupados odiandoos que érais incapaces de disfrutar del amor, complicidad y cariño que teníais en vuestros días de calma. Tampoco has tenido el placer de escucharlo hablar de ti todos los días durante años, mientras intenta llegar a un término con sus sentimientos."

Toma una profunda respiración.

"Alina. Como Roger es un maldito cobarde, vas a ser tú quien de el primer paso. Y honestamente, si no te importa sacarlo a él de su miseria, al menos sácame a mi de la mia. Sé la indicada, por favor."

Antes de que pueda pensar siquiera en lo que está pensando contesta. "Hablaré con él."

Tal y como Brian dijo, dos días antes de dar comienzo a la gira mundial, Rich se encarga de organizar una comida. Y a pesar de lo que dijo, no habló con Roger. Quizá por eso está tan nerviosa de camino a casa, lleva algo más de un mes sin verlo.

"¿Estás bien?" La mano de Blaine aprieta su muslo.

"Si" Alina está distraída mirando por la ventanilla del coche. "Solo llegamos tarde, ya sabes lo puntual que soy y me pongo nerviosa..." Empieza a divagar poniéndose aún más nerviosa mientras Blaine se ríe.

"Cariño, es tu familia" Recuerda. "Hace tiempo que no les ves, ¿cierto? A los chicos digo"

Con todo el alboroto de la mudanza había conseguido no alarmar a Blaine, pero si que se había dado cuenta que de pronto ya no llegaba tarde a sus citas con él por ellos, Roger no la buscaba para ir al estudio y ella ya no contaba ninguna anécdota de su día cada vez que se juntaba con ellos. Pero no tuvo el corazón de preguntar por temor a la respuesta.

"Bueno, ya no soy una niña para perseguirlos a todas partes, cada uno tiene su vida y con la mudanza..." Nota como se pone aún más nerviosa lo que hace que empiece a sentir pequeñas taquicardias.

"Oye" Blaine masajea su muslo. "Tranquila, solo es una observación. Quizá deberías invitarlos a casa. Cuando ya esté todo" puntualiza.

Sabe a lo que se refiere. Durante semanas estuvo reacia a llevar sus cosas al piso. Al principio dijo que primero deberían poner todo el piso en orden y con los gustos de ambos, los muebles, la pintura de las paredes... Todo lo necesario para sentirse en casa, de alguna manera su subconsciente quería retrasar el momento de poner su ropa en el armario, y sus productos en el baño. Y eso les llevó a cambiar tres veces el color del salón, hasta que finalmente se dieron por vencidos. En ese salón y con esos colores jamás podría bailar con Blaine.

"Sí, sería genial" Miente. La única manera de que Roger entras en su casa con los pies por delante.

Su mente viaja a la habitación de casa de sus padres, están casi todas sus cosas en cajas. Casi. Es incapaz de meter algo sin echarse a llorar. Y hoy que van de visita llevarán sus cosas a casa. Finalmente.

"Mira, ya están" Llegan al viejo vecindario de sus padres y a lo largo de la calle pueden ver diversos coches desfilando, además de mucha gente asomada a la ventana.

No sabe como consigue hacer que sus piernas funcionen correctamente hasta la puerta, pero no tiene tiempo de recuperarse de su nudo en el pecho cuando Blaine llama a la puerta.

"Alina" Los brazos de Vicky la sujetan con fuerza y abrazan su cuerpo temblando.

Cuando cruza el umbral de la puerta escucha el murmullo del salón y el grito de su sobrino de tres años.

"¡Alina!" Deaky se levanta cuando ve a su amiga. "Demasiado tiempo"

"Siempre un placer" Brian la saluda con un movimiento de cabeza sin levantarse del sofá.

Blaine está saludando a Freddie mientras este le sirve una copa de vino tinto.

"Ey, ¿qué pasa tío?" Roger saluda a Blaine dándole una palmada en el hombro. Un buen saludo, sin duda obra de Brian. "Hola Miss desaparecida"

Tenía muchas dudas de lo que sentiría al ver a Roger después de tanto tiempo, y de como se darían las cosas. Y ahí está, frene a ella, a un paso, con su pelo rubio un poco más corto y una sonrisa tirando de sus labios. Tan jovial y despreocupado... Si no fuese por los movimientos de sus dedos que lo hace parecer ansioso.

Y ella vuelve a sentirse igual que a los diecisiete.

Las palabras 'Eres un hijo de puta, Roger' mueren en sus labios cuando siente una mano en su pierna.

"Tia, tia, tia" el pequeño Will intenta llamar su atención tirando de su pantalón. "Ya voy yo solo al baño"

Su hermana Debbie rueda los ojos divertida. Realmente se lo está diciendo a todo el mundo.

"¿En serio?" Roger corta el momento incómodo ya que Alina parece que olvida por un momento como hablar. "Mi madre aún debe acompañarme"

Will se ríe y persigue a Blaine probablemente para decirle a él también lo adulto que se siente.

Roger da un paso acercándose a ella. No parece ni furioso ni triste, pero no sabe exactamente qué decir. Abre la boca varias veces pero no dice nada. Vicky corta el incómodo momento entrando con la comida.

"Vamos, a sentarse"

Cada uno toma su sitio en la mesa, y casualmente Roger y Alina terminan en frente.

Nadie parece percatarse de sus miradas incómodas, ni sus silencios en la mesa. Rápidamente hay varias conversaciones sobre la gira y de fondo el tintineo de los cubiertos.

"¡América!, ¿quién lo diría?" Exclama Rich.

"¡Quién lo diría!, ¿verdad Alina?" Mary saca a su amiga de sus propios pensamientos. "¿Recuerdas cuando íbamos a ver a estos perdedores?"

"Solo recuerdo la bebida. Era asquerosa" Bromea con una sonrisa.

"Entonces, ¿por qué ibas?" Pregunta Blaine con una sonrisa.

"Por la música medianamente aceptable."

"Digna descripción de tu padre, Brian" Deaky bromea.

"Aún recuerdo una tarde que entré en la tienda y vi a Roger y Alina, ¿os acordáis? Estábais escuchando la demo del primer disco."

En ese momento varias cosas pasan a la vez. Roger se atraganta con el vino, Deaky y Brian se miran confundidos y Alina se pone roja mientras titubea. A todo esto Blaine les observa con el ceño fruncido.

"¡Papá!, ¡era un secreto!"

"¡Oh vamos!, han pasado años, ya ha preescrito" Rich no es del todo consciente de la bomba que acaba de soltar en la mesa.

"Pensamos que la idea era mostrárselo juntos" Deaky mira a Roger que se encoge de hombros.

"¡Realmente te emocionaste!" Freddie señala a la chica. "No puedo creer que fuese falso"

"No fue falso"

"¿Recordáis sus gritos cuando le enseñamos la cinta?" Brian les hace recordar a todos ese momento.

"Todo falso" Freddie lamenta mientras niega con la cabeza.

"Oye, realmente estáis perdiendo el foco importante. Roger fue a mostrarme la cinta. Yo no lo pedí" En ese momento sus miradas se cruzan.

"Bueno..." Con una sonrisa y la ceja alzada dice "Yo recuerdo como me quitaste la cinta de las manos."

Alina jadea.

"Tendrás valor..."

"Te dije que querían mostrártelo juntos y debía ser nuestro secreto" Un escalofrío recorre su espalda cuando dijo 'nuestro' "Y accediste"

Rich sonríe con la copa de vino en sus labios. Sin quererlo había conseguido sacar a los chicos de esa nebulosa incómoda.

"Dinos Roger, ¿cuántas veces más nos has traicionado?" Brian pregunta apoyándose en la mesa.

Antes de que Roger pueda asegurar que nunca más enseñó a la chica ningún disco, lo cual sería una mentira a medias, ya que alguna canción que le hacía extrema ilusión si que se la mostró, Alina habla.

"Bri, ¿recuerdas aquel regalo alucinante en las navidades de 1971? En verdad yo lo elegí" Roger abre desmesuradamente los ojos.

"Era un regalo alucinante." Freddie habla recordando el obsequio "Debimos sospechar que no era idea de Roger."

"Para empezar" Roger se dirige a sus amigos. "Soy perfectamente capaz de hacer regalos alucinantes. ¿A que sí?" Pregunta mirando a la chica.

En ese instante todos se pierden. No tienen ni idea de lo que está hablando.

"¿Cómo lo hiciste?" A su vuelta después de esas navidades se lo preguntó muchas veces. ¿Cómo consiguió hacerle un regalo? Pero siempre respondía lo mismo.

"Magia" Responde con una sonrisa. Blaine no se pierde la media sonrisa cómplice de Alina, ni el intento de esconder la sonrisa de Maisie. Siente que conoce más a su novia por Roger y los chicos, que por ella mima.

Blaine carraspea haciendo que la chica aparte la mirada de Roger.

"El otro día vimos el concierto" Comienza otra conversación en la que pueda ser partícipe y no sentir la conexión de Roger y su chica.

"Fue alucinante" Maisie exclama "No podía elegir una canción favorita pero keep yourself alive me recordó cuando era una niña."

"Lo sigues siendo" Maisie saca la lengua a Alina.

"Nuestra favorita fue somebody to love, ¿verdad?" Blaine mira a la chica quién se pone un poco tensa.

"En verdad disfruté mucho de 39'" Tiene una mirada cómplice con Brian. Le trae buenos recuerdos. Roger disimula una sonrisa.

"¿Pero no es raro?, ¿verdad?" Alina sabe lo que está a punto de decir pero por alguna razón mira a Roger y no lo detiene. "Quiero decir, 39 es una canción preciosa y a continuación tocáis fat bottomed girls"

"Escribí ambas" Brian no sabe si sentirse ofendido o sentir pena por Blaine que no sabe donde meterse.

Alina y Roger comparten una mirada y ambos intentan contener la risa. El rubio toma la copa de vino para disimular la sonrisa, pero cuando escucha la pequeña risa de Alina no aguanta más y se le escapa una carcajada haciendo que el vino se le salga por la nariz. Entonces Alina empieza a reirse más fuerte.

"Lo siento" Entre risas Roger se disculpa mientras se limpia con la servilleta.

Brian esta vez está encantado de ser él, el que corte el silencio tenso en la mesa. Sabía que no había manera en el mundo de que Roger y Alina estuviesen juntos y fuesen incapaces de seguir teniendo esa conexión. El amor está ahí, en los pequeños detalles.

Roger y Alina siguen compartiendo miradas cómplices aunque no participan en la conversación.

En algún momento alguien pone música de fondo, tal y como hacían en todas las reuniones.

"¡Alina!, escucha" Maisie grita mientras sube un poco más el volumen. Todos se callan expectantes hasta que escuchan la canción.

Un escalofrío le recorre el cuerpo y siente un sudor frío por su espalda. Llevaba tiempo sin escucharla.

Here comes the sun.

"¿Recordáis su obsesión con esta canción?"

"Siempre la ponía en todas partes" Mary sonríe con el recuerdo.

"Tengo la teoría de que cada vez que se quedaba en silencio, escuchaba esa canción en su cabeza" Freddie asiente a las palabras de Brian.

"Siempre llevaba esa cinta, nos la ponía en la furgoneta" Deaky recuerda haciendo sonreír a Roger.

"La cantaba siempre. No había forma de escuchar la canción y no asociarla con ella" Rich pone de nuevo el vinilo, repitiendo la canción.

Y toda la conversación se ve interrumpida por Blaine. "¿En serio?"

"¿Nunca te puso la canción?" Maisie pregunta incrédula. Roger mira a la chica con el ceño fruncido.

"No" Casi suena más a pregunta.

"Tampoco es tan importante" Alina se pone realmente nerviosa, igual que en el coche. "Solo es una canción"

"Eras muy pesada" Recuerda Maisie.

"Cállate" Esta vez suena más agresiva.

"Pero Alina" Maisie frunce el ceño. "Pero si cantabas esa canción con todo el mundo"

Blaine la mira preocupado.

"Bueno, nosotros hemos compartido muchas canciones"

Alina siente que está a punto de ponerse a llorar. Se siente acorralada, y siente que no está siendo sincera.

"Bueno" Vicky se levanta de la mesa intenta ayudar a su hija. "¿Quién de mis tres hermosas hijas será la que me ayude a recoger los platos?"

"Bueno, Alina llegó tarde a propósito para no poner la mesa, sería lo justo que ella te ayude." Debbie bromea para romper el hielo. Alina no contesta, se levanta y casi corriendo huye a la cocina. Roger siente el impulso de seguirla, pero siente la mano de Freddie en su muslo y no lo hace.

"Está bien cariño, ¿qué ocurre?" Vicky cierra la puerta de la cocina tras ella. Alina está con la vista en el fregadero lleno de platos y cubiertos sucios. Si hace unos segundos sentía un nudo en el pecho y los ojos llenos de lágrimas, ahora siente que hiperventila, le cuesta respirar y sabe que si empieza a llorar, no podrá parar.

"No sé mamá..."

"Está bien, está bien" Coge a su hija en sus brazos y la abraza fuerte. "Está bien mi amor. Ven, siéntate"

Las lágrimas corren por sus mejillas y se sienta en la silla obligada por su madre.

"Estás pasando por una mudanza, te vas a vivir con un chico increíble y estás a punto de empezar una vida como mujer. Está bien. Es duro irte de casa, pero seguimos siendo tu familia, no nos iremos a ninguna parte" Alina niega con la cabeza incapaz de decir algo. "¿Recuerdas cuando se fue Debbie? Siempre venía a dormir los fines de semana aquí, hasta que se sintió lista. Está bien. Sentirte como te sientes está bien."

No sabe lo mucho que necesitaba oir esas palabras. Durante semanas había retenido todos sus sentimientos, y lo había conseguido porque siempre venía un día posterior donde seguía durmiendo en su cama, entre sus cuatro paredes, y aún podía soñar que tenía diecisiete años y que al día siguiente podría ir al estudio con los chicos. Pero esos días se acabaron, ahora su vida sería diferente y no estaba lista. Y sabe que no debería sentirse así. Debería tener miedo por todo lo que puede salir mal, pero no sentir que está tomando la decisión equivocada.

"¿Tú te sentiste así?"

Vicky no tiene el corazón de ser sincera ni de contestar esa pregunta.

"No todos vivimos las mismas situaciones igual."

Vicky fue feliz el día que durmió con Rich por primera vez en su hogar. Pero la diferencia es que su hogar nunca fueron cuatro paredes. Su hogar era donde el corazón de Rich y sus hijas estaba. Da igual en esa casa, que debajo del peor puente de un barrio pobre de Londres.

"No debería ser doloroso"

"No. No debería. Seguir esto" Pone su mano sobre el pecho de su hija, donde reside su corazón. "Nunca puede ser doloroso."

"Siento que si hago lo que siento haré daño a la gente que me quiere." Por primera vez se sincera con su madre. Todos sus miedos, y todo el dolor que siente en su pecho. Y todo lleva un nombre.

Por un momento piensa que todo es culpa de Roger, que si tan solo no hubiese sido tan egoísta de decir lo que siente en el momento menos indicado, ella no se sentiría así ahora. Por su culpa siente que debe pensar en él, y vuelve a sentir todo lo que sintió por él. Pero una pequeña parte de ella siente que puede que tenga razón. Que puede que esté equivocada, que todos los caminos siempre le han llevado a él. Siempre él.

"La gente que te quiere te seguirá queriendo. Es inevitable que nadie salga herido. Lo único que quiero es que no seas tú. No mereces sentirte así.

"Si, lo merezco" Se le rompe la voz y las lágrimas vuelven a llenar sus ojos. "Lo merezco"

"No cariño, no" Vicky vuelve a pasar los brazos por su cuerpo, abrazándola.

Lo merece. Debe ser sincera con Blaine, y no lo ha sido. Quizá en un principio no lo fué de manera inconsciente, pero ahora es consciente. Sus sentimientos que se habían quedado dormidos, después del toque de Roger habían despertado más furiosos que nunca. La queman por dentro y con más fuerza cada vez que intenta retenerlos.

"Eres mi hija. Y ninguna de mis hijas lo merecen."

"Tú eres mi madre, tu deber es apoyarme siempre. No eres objetiva"

"Como soy tu madre, te conozco" Sin ser demasiado explícita sabe lo que intenta decir. Sabe a lo que se refiere. "Te conozco mi niña"

Esta vez es Alina la que abraza a su madre. En algún momento la hace daño de lo fuerte que tiene sus brazos en su cintura, pero no se queja. Poco a poco sus brazos se relajan y permiten que Vicky se mueva un poco. Alina ya ha dejado de llorar y se apoya con un brazo sobre la mesa.

Su madre se da la vuelta y empieza a fregar en un silencio cómodo. Quiere ayudarla, pero cree que por mucho que pueda decir, no es de su boca de quién necesita esas palabras. Solo puede sentarse a su lado, escucharla cuando se sienta lista, y apoyarla en todas sus decisiones. Aunque no le gusten.

"Os vi" Alina rompe el silencio mientras su madre seca con cuidado una olla. Hay algo doméstico en hacer las tareas, se siente como una niña de nuevo, y vuelve a sentir esa comodidad y confort para hablar de nuevo. "A papá y a ti"

"¿De qué hablas, cariño?"

"Un domingo. Debíais pensar que Maisie y yo estábamos dormidas. Pero oí pasos en el salón y decidí bajar." Tiene una sonrisa mientras recuerda el momento. "Me quedé sentada en las escaleras. Estábais papá y tu bailando. Te decía algunas palabras en el oído y tu sonreías mucho. En algún momento debió cantar algunas frases de Here's comes the sun."

Vicky siente como el aire sale de sus pulmones.

"No sé cuanto tiempo estuve ahí, quizá diez minutos. Maisie se despertó y dejásteis de bailar."

Vicky ahora entiende un poco su obsesión con esa canción. Pero no lo entiende.

"No lo recuerdo, cariño"

"¿Qué?"

"No recuerdo. No sé, no recuerdo todas las mañanas de domingo de nuestras vidas"

El corazón de Alina se hunde. Para ella es un recuerdo precioso. Quizá el momento en el que se dió cuenta del gran amor de sus padres, y para ella es muy importante. No entiende como su madre puede no recordarlo.

"Pero mamá..."

"No entiendo por qué es tan importante, cariño, hemos tenido muchos bailes."

"Pero..."

Vicky deja de secar todos los cubiertos y se sienta en la silla a su lado

"Cariño. A esto me refería." Vicky empieza a entender un poco más a su hija. Toma su mano sobre la mesa y la acaricia. "Para mi ese baile no es importante, no significó nada. ¿Sabes por qué? He tenido millones de bailes con tu padre."

"Pero estábais felices"

"Bueno, gracias a dios siempre soy feliz con tu padre. Escúchame" Aprieta su mano y sonríe a su dulce niña. "Para mi todos los días son días extraordinarios. Tu padre siempre me hace sentir la mujer más afortunada del mundo, y siempre todos los días me demuestra todo su amor. Por eso ese baile no lo recuerdo, me es imposible recordar todos los buenos momentos porque para mi, desde que lo conocí me siento inmensamente feliz. Y todos los días me recuerda lo mucho que nos amamos. Lo que no entiendo es que significase tanto para ti."

"Me di cuenta de que os amábais. No sé." Frunce el ceño. Ahora no sabe que fue lo que marcó tanto ese recuerdo. "Simplemente os vi felices."

"Pues cariño. Eso es lo que deseo para ti. No deseo que un baile sea tu recuerdo más feliz. Deseo que vivas tantos momentos felices todos los días que te sea imposible recordarlos todos. Deseo que siempre seas amada, y que ames todos los días. Qué no dejes un día en blanco sin haber amado a la persona que tienes aquí." señala su corazón con el dedo. "Mereces ser feliz siempre."

Alina empieza a entender a su madre. Sabe qué quiere decir. Pero todo en su cabeza sigue siendo un lío enorme.

"Te quiero mucho mamá."

"Lo sé cariño" Esta vez se abrazan con tranquilidad. Están tan cómodas sintiendo el amor que se tienen, que no sienten cuando abren la puerta.

"Mis chicas favoritas abrazándose y no me invitan. ¿Habéis dejado de quererme?, dime Vicky, ¿me pedirás el divorcio? solo que sepas que tendrás que denunciarme, no pienso firmar esos papeles." Rich se apoya en la puerta con una sonrisa en los labios.

"Que cosas dices" Vicky se levanta arreglando el vestido.

Alina les mira con una sonrisa. Se están mirando como aquel día. Y como todos los días.

"¿Qué pasa?" Rich mira confundido a su hija y luego a su mujer. "Oye venía a decirte que no es por presión, pero siguen tus cosas en cajas en tu habitación, y hay cosas por ahí tiradas..."

"Tu padre está emocionado por convertir tu habitación en un estudio de pintura."

Rich abre la boca pero no es capaz de llevar la contraria a su esposa.

"Tranquilo papá. Está bien" Coge la indirecta y se levanta de su silla. Cuando sale por el umbral de la puerta siente que el peso sobre sus hombros ya no pesa ni duele tanto. Blaine se levanta al verla, pero se queda en el sitio cuando Alina lo detiene. "Iré a recoger las cosas. Prometí a mi padre que lo haría, tiene prisa por echarme de casa" Bromea mientras se aleja por el pasillo.

Roger y los chicos se miran confundidos. No saben que puede haber pasado en la cocina pero algo bueno debió ser. No parece la misma que entró.

"Chicos" Vicky aparece en el salón con Rich a sus espaldas. "Amo a mi hija, pero todos aquí sabemos que no podrá recoger todo ella sola. Roger hijo, ¿podrías ayudarla?" El chico se sobresalta, pero contento de tener una escusa por seguirla, se pone en pie y casi corre por el pasillo.

Alina está frente a su cama, dando la espalda a la puerta. Está mirando la pared donde hay cientos de fotos polaroid colgadas. Aún no tiene el corazón de quitarlas. La mayoría son de Mary, sus hermanas, y muchísimas de los chicos y Roger.

Roger entra a sus espaldas en silencio. Hace mucho tiempo que no sube a su habitación. Ve casi todo en cajas y como observa la pared llena de fotos. Se acerca al tocadiscos que es de las pocas cosas que aún están en su sitio, y pone de nuevo el vinilo que ya estaba colocado. Empieza a sonar Hello, Goodbye de los beatles y rueda los ojos. Su pequeña obsesión

Alina no se vuelve. Sabe quién es.

"Aquel día bebiste tanto que me tiraste la cerveza encima" Por encima de su hombro ven una de las fotos. Son Alina y Roger en la furgoneta, amos sentados mientras los demás intentaban recoger todo después del concierto en el pub. Ambos sonriendo con sus cabezas pegadas.

"No bebí tanto"

No, pero bebiste. Te sentó bastante mal."

"Fue tu culpa" con una sonrisa triste se vuelve a mirarlo y le da con el dedo índice en el pecho.

"Yo solo te di a probar, no para que te quedases la bebida y te emborrachases. Descarada" Se ríe un poco. Tiene razón. Durante semanas se burló de tener que llevarla a su casa borracha y tener que llamar a Mary para que llamase a sus padres y diría que dormiría con ella esa noche. Tampoco se olvida de que hubo un chantaje para que fuese a conocer a su madre con ese momento.

"Me ha dicho tu madre que te ayude. No confía en que seas capaz de hacerlo tú sola"

"Me conoce bien" Vuelve otra vez su vista a las cajas. "Quizá puedas meter lo que haya en mi cómoda en una caja."

Alina toma una de las cajas y abre el armario. Suspira pero empieza a sacar la ropa y doblarla.

"Tenías razón. El otro día." Roger abre el primer cajón mientras se sienta en la cama. "Fui un hijo de puta"

"No quise decir eso" Ambos evitan mirarse y poco a poco llenan cajas de sus pertenencias.

"Lo hiciste. Y me comporté como un cabrón así que no te lo tengo en cuenta." Piensa que debería pedir perdón pero no lo hace.

"Está bien."

Roger encuentra en el cajón la vieja libreta que le regaló en aquellas navidades. Sonríe y abre la abre. Pero está vacía. Frunce el ceño.

"¿No la has usado?" Está bastante ofendido.

Alina se gira confundida. Cuando ve la libreta suspira.

"No sabía para que usarla. Estoy esperando a una buena idea."

Mete la libreta en la caja que lleva un "Imprescindible" escrito a rotulador. Se ríe negando con la cabeza.

"¿Sabes lo que significa imprescindible? Ahí debería de ir mis tarjetas, datos médicos y esa clase de cosas."

"Mi libreta es imprescindible." Niega con la cabeza y sigue sacando ropa del armario. Sabe que da igual que cajas lleve hoy, porque todo está mal repartido, y no le importa. Roger es un desastre.

"¿Tus vinilos y casettes?" pregunta viendo sus baldas.

"Esos a la caja de música. Creo que está al lado de la puerta."

Poco a poco saca todos los vinilos y los casettes. La mayoría son de queen, de los beatles, abba y algunos grupos de rock, seguramente regalos de su padre. También hay algunos de algún grupo indie que sin duda sería regalos de Blaine. Pero reconoce uno. Es un casette sin foto ni pegatina. Lo reconoce porque es el que él la regaló en navidad. Sin que se de cuenta lo mete en la caja de imprescindible.

En ese momento se acuerda de algo

"Alina" la última vez que la llamó así estaban discutiendo y la forma en la que lo dijo le paró el corazón. Pero ahora era suave, como un susurro. "Tengo algo para ti"

Ambos se sientan en la cama, mientras Roger saca algo del bolsillo de su pantalón. "Brian el otro día lo encontró en mi coche y creo que rodó los ojos tan fuerte que casi se le quedan mirando hacia la nuca." Deja una cinta casette en sus manos. Es su cinta. La que llevaba a todas partes.

"Pensé que la habías perdido" Hacía años que la puso en la vieja furgoneta y se la olvidó allí. Cometió el error de decírselo a Roger y este se la quedó. Estuvo meses suplicando por su cinta y él siempre respondía "Si tanto la quieres no la andarías olvidando por ahí. Ahora tiene nuevo dueño", o "Si la quieres, gánatela"

"¿Cómo podría perderla?" Frunce el ceño. "Simplemente la he mantenido a salvo." No quiere admitir que alguna vez la ha escuchado en su coche y ha cantado Here comes the sun con una sonrisa. "Pero te pertenece."

"No que va. Es tuya. Tu lo dijiste, ahora tiene dueño" Alina devuelve la cinta a sus manos. "Además no la necesito, hace siglos que no la escucho."

"Oh, deberías. Mejora con el tiempo."

Alina niega con la cabeza con una sonrisa.

"Quédatela. Además ya no la necesito. Ahora Blaine es quién te lleva en el coche así que..."

"¿Estás dando por hecho que no me llevarás nunca más en tu coche?"

"Bueno... No lo sé" No sabe que responder. Si fuese por él se la llevaría ahora mismo lejos de ahí. Pero no pueden.

De fondo cambia la música del tocadiscos. I want to hold your hand. Y ambos recuerdan aquella tarde en la tienda. No se mueven, saben que deberían seguir empacando, pero ninguno tiene las ganas.

"Te echaré de menos" Roger se vuelve a ver a la chica cuando habla. "Ahora que sois famosos y eso, será todo más difícil. Os espera una vida divertida y algo loca."

"Si. Supongo" Si por el fuera, elegiría esta vida mil veces.

"Os espera la mejor parte"

"A ti también" Roger dice automáticamente, casi sin pensar. "Oye" Toma una de sus manos entre las suyas. "Sé que estás dando un paso enorme mudándote y Blaine es un buen tio aunque sea un poco imbécil... Pero quiero que me escuches algo."

Por primera vez Alina le escucha. Sin peros.

"A ti también te espera la mejor parte. Eres jóven, Miss dancing queen. Y quiero que salgas. La vida ahí fuera es maravillosa. Quiero que conozcas gente, que bailes hasta no sentir los pies, que cantes hasta quedarte afónica. Que cantes tu canción favorita y beses a un extraño en un pub. Siempre he ido de un palo al otro pensando que era jóven, y no me arrepiento de nada. Quiero que tú también vivas esa vida, Alina. Sin ataduras. Que corras los riesgos. Y cuando tengas que comprometerte con alguien lo hagas. Pero después de vivir todo lo que puedas. Esto es todo lo que puedo desear a alguien a quién quiero muchísimo." Sus ojos no se apartan de los suyos, y puede notar las lágrimas de Alina en ellos. "Quiero que cuando seamos viejos podamos recordar las mejores partes de nuestra vida y podamos decir que disfrutamos todo lo posible."

Recuerda sus palabras tiempo atrás. "En todos los momentos más felices de mi vida tu estás en ellos" y ahora sabe que él también está en los suyos.

"Quizá por eso me enfadé tanto aquel día." Roger mete un mechón de pelo detrás de su oreja. "Quería que vivieses la vida al máximo. Y que no te conformes con menos de lo que crees merecer." Sabe que está entrando de nuevo en terreno pantanoso, así que pisa con pies de plomo sobre sus próximas palabras. "Solo... No quiero que te conformes con alguien que te trata como un Seat 127 cuando eres un Dodge Challenger"

Llegados a ese punto, Alina consigue retener las lágrimas, y con confusión lo mira.

"¿Me estás comparando con un coche?" No sabe si reír o llorar cuando Roger responde serio y con toda la sinceridad del mundo.

"Bueno... I'm in love with my car" Una sonrisa escapa de sus labios antes de abrazarla.

CONTINUACIÓN

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dancingdeacyy · 4 years ago

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Celebration night

Okay, I finally wrote something and I actually loved how this turned out. It’s fluffy and I love it.

I hope you enjoy it and don’t forget to share it. If you want to be on the tag list let me know.

Oh and don’t forget there’s a prompt list, I’m taking requests so feel free to ask for smn.

(I know I have a couple of requests, I’m trying to work on them but I finishing uni and I’m still quite busy)

After weeks of hard work, the guys finally finished recording and the new album was being well received, I’m extremely proud of them cause I’ve seen how hard they’ve worked and how much effort they put into it.

Chrissie, Brian’s girlfriend, Mary, Freddie’s girlfriend and Veronica, Deacy’s wife, and I, we decided to throw a celebration party for the guys. It wasn’t a big reunion like Freddie’s favourites, but we planned on wearing fancy dresses and a gourmet menu.

My garden was the right place to do it so we decided to decorate it with some fairy lights and roses. I love planning things with the girls because they have great taste and we have so much fun working together.

Besides, the girls were happy doing it to have a special moment with their boyfriends while I just wanted to give my best friend, Roger, a nice relaxing moment, yes, he is my best friend and I love him, as friends, do friends love each other the way I love Roger? Do friends treat each other the way Roger and I do?

The girls always tease me about dating Roger and how cowards we are and I knew the guys tease Roger too cause “He’s not brave enough to accept his feelings and confess them to me” well, I guess our friends know our feelings better than us.

However, the special night has come and the girls and I were so nervous yet so excited. The food looked delicious and a fancy restaurant had nothing on our cooking skills, cocktails were almost ready and the garden was beautifully decorated, the guys were about to arrive, so we decided to go and get ready.

If we were getting fancy food and the garden looked like it was brought out of a Disney movie, we definitely had to look like princesses. Chrissie helped me find a beautiful black dress, it was so smooth and it fitted me perfectly, my makeup was soft and barely visible but it really made me feel different.

We get ready so fast we actually thought about breaking the world record, the girls looked so pretty we almost start crying about how good we felt and how beautiful we are, and I mentally laughed about it cause if I were alone I would never feel this pretty, but the girls made me feel like that and I’m actually simpin for this confident version of me.

The doorbell rang and brought us back from our daydreaming, saying we were scared was an understatement, we were really nervous and not because of how would the boys react cause, let's be honest, we’re wearing fancy dresses and looking like proper goddesses, they’d love it, we just wanted everything to go as we planned.

As soon as we opened the door, Freddie, Brian and John came running to hug their wives while Roger was looking at me shyly.

“Hey” I said softly, trying to keep my voice as normal as possible.

“You look gorgeous” He said, not even a hello, oh well I can’t complain. “Can I hug you?”

What? My legs were shaking and I needed that hug as soon as possible, I only attempted to nod slowly.

He put his firm hands on my waist and brought me close to his body, his scent was so strong I felt I was getting high on it, and I love that feeling.

“You look great Roger” I said, hiding my face on his neck. He really did look good, an opened white shirt revealing his smooth chest and a pair of leather pants and I’ll just say… his butt looked pretty nice.

“Really? I’m just wearing the first thing I saw in my closet.” He said, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

“That’s not true y/n, he spent hours planning his outfit.” Freddie said teasingly while winking. “He said he wanted to impress you.”

Roger was blushing and he let go from the hug.

“Oh it's alright, I hope my dress impresses him too, cause he certainly impressed me.” I said and went to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of wine. “Want some?”

The girls were looking at me with a knowing smirk and the guys were teasing Roger while he was trying to cover up his reddened cheeks.

The rest of the guys looked really nice too, wearing their fancy suits and while a wide smile plastered on their faces.

“Before you start getting drunk, my dear y/n, we had some words prepared for you” Mary started saying, taking the bottle out of my hands.

We had some words prepared? Really?

“Yeah! Our gorgeous y/n prepared them, right?” Veronica looked at me while giggling and I couldn’t be more confused. Did I write a speech and I completely forgot about it? Roger’s giggles brought me back.

“Oh yeah right!” I said, trying to look confident “It’s quite short, though.”

“Oh stop it, y/n!” Freddie said, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Stop being so modest, you give great speeches.”

Yes! Only when I’m extremely drunk.

“Alright boys, we know you’ve worked really hard this last month and we are so proud you’re achieving your dreams.” I started saying, trying to look at each one of them but not being able, my eyes were focused on Roger and how good he looked smiling at me like that. “You are an inspiration and I’ll dare to say, you are our idols, but you are also the loves of our lives… and our best friends.” I quickly added to avoid misunderstandings, but oh how I wish I hadn’t. “You’ve given everything to us, and the least we could do was try to give you something else too, so this is just a small celebration party for you guys.”

Chrissie was pouring the wine on our glasses and we were ready for the toast.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, raise your glasses for Queen!” I said lifting my glass happily.

As soon as the guys lifted it, I looked at Roger who was already smiling at me, I smiled back when he winked at me, oh how much I want to kiss those lips.

“Okay guys, you can get going to the garden, we’ll get the food.” Mary said while pushing Freddie out of the room, the guys followed him but Roger seemed a bit hesitant about going with them.

“Can I have a word with y/n?” He asked shyly, it’s funny how he always seemed so comfortable and confident but when it comes to me he’s so shy and soft.

“Sure Rog, just give us a second while we finish preparing the dishes.” Chrissie said and hurried working on the dish.

My stomach was feeling funny and my legs were shaking, was something wrong? Did I say something inappropriate? My mind was racing. The feeling of Mary’s hand on my shoulder scared me a bit.

“Alright Rog, she’s all yours.” Mary said, grabbing two dishes and going out of the kitchen, the girls followed her but first they winked at me.

I turned to look at Roger, he was already smiling at me. He walked to me, getting closer and closer every time he put his hand on my waist and smiled.

“Hey.” He seemed more confident than a few minutes ago but his voice was still a bit shaky.

“Hey, are you excited?” I asked hoping my voice seemed a bit normal.

“About the dinner or the album?” Geez, he looked so cute when he’s confused, he looked like a puppy.

“Both” I said laughing, I could help but caress his face, my fingers went from his forehead to his cheek and then to his hair. My fingers tangled in it and I could feel his eyes staring at my lips.

“Yeah, mostly about tonight.” He tried to stop looking at my lips, but I saw his tongue poking out of his lips and wetted them. “I wanted to thank you, and tell you how beautiful you look today.”

I could help but blush, his blue eyes were now staring at my eyes.

“Oh it’s nothing, we’re proud and you’ve done so much for us, is the least we can do.” I don’t know where this is going but I’m feeling the famous butterflies.

“Ca- Can I do something else for you?” He said putting his other hand on my cheek and rubbing it with his thumb.

Do you guys know how to breath? Because suddenly I forgot.

I nodded slowly and smiled.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered and I felt his breath so close to my face, his scent filling my nostrils, I put my hand on his neck and smiled.

“Yes, please.”

As soon as I finished talking, Roger lips attacked mine, my body felt numb and my head was spinning, I tangled my fingers on his hair and he hugged me by the waist. My lips were trying to follow his pace, our noses were brushing each other and our chests were so close I’m sure he felt my heart beating out of my chest.

I didn’t want to break the kiss but I was nearly out of breath, my forehead was resting on his and our eyes were still closed, his hands there caressing my back. We were smiling so much our cheeks started to hurt.

“You make me so very happy.” God his voice was so soft and sweet.

“You make me really happy too, Rog” Now our noses were touching each other, his was so soft and pointy, my heart was definitely beating faster now. “Let 's go eat.”

He took my hand and led me to the garden. The guys were focused on their conversation but as soon as Brian saw us he cleared his throat, ending the conversation. They were smiling at us and the guys started whistling when they saw our hands.

Roger opened my chair and I gave him a little kiss on his lips, the girls screamed when they saw it and I started clapping.

We avoided looking at them and started drinking wine, Roger’s hand was now on my thigh tracing circles with his thumb.

“Anything you want to share with us?” Freddie said leaning on the table and placing his head on his hands.

“Well, I just want to say that I hope that kiss means you’re my girlfriend now.” He said, grabbing a piece of food on his fork and leadingit to his mouth, trying to look smooth and charming. “Oh it does, love.” He said and I brought his face close to mine and started kissing him again.

Our friends were cheering in the back and now his lips tasted like wine, I was slowly melting in his arms and I’ve never been happier.

Tag list: @jennyggggrrr

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sailawaysweetsis · 4 years ago

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Tongue Tied

Roger Taylor X Reader

A/N: Small blurb I did for @freaking-nix fan-zine! I totally recommend checking it out! Let’s support each other in the fandom.

° ° ° ° ° ° °

You had been a roadie for Queen for a while now, and you must say, it is a very entertaining life to live. So far in the first couple of months of being on the road with the guys, you have learned many things. Things such as patience, because when it comes to Freddie Mercury, one must be ready for every possible antic that man can fuss over. Things such as to be eager for knowledge, especially when talking about Brian May, that human can ramble for hours on end about deep space. Being observant like John Deacon, he never fails to notice when someone is feeling down or being out of place. That boy has the eye of an eagle. However, when it comes to Roger Taylor, well, one can learn a handful of things.

Roger Taylor so far has taught you self-control. Boy, how many times have you wanted to strangle him but resisted the impulse to do so. Roger is the person that loves to nag other people constantly and occasionally prank them to make things more interesting. When you first met him, you couldn’t wrap around your head what was about him that made him so intriguing. He was handsome, yes, but incredibly annoying and a total flirt. He spends his free time being all over groupies and eventually having one night stands. When you had the chance to chat with Rog for a bit that wasn’t either about his latest conquests or his drumset, he was a nice fella to talk with. He seemed the kind of guy that beneath all his cockiness layed someone vulnerable and truly caring.

Roger Taylor has taught you that if anyone can make you feel more alive, is him. Night after night you watched in awe Roger and the band perform. It was truly insane how much they got into the role and how they enjoyed the lights, the crowd, the noise, and the adrenaline overall. On the other hand, you enjoyed the show backstage and afterward spending time running away wit Roger. It started out as a “let’s go away for a while to escape here” into “let’s go away from here because it has become a tradition” thing. At first, you both went to fast-food restaurants to grab a meal but eventually expanded your map to places like movies, stores (that one was the best, trying the silliest clothes and make fun of each other), or even the crew’s pick-up van where you lay a blanket and drove off anywhere.

Roger Taylor has taught you that never before you have loved someone the way you love him. It was on one of those escapades that the bright moon and stars witnessed how both of you fell in love with the other. For you, it was the way he opened his arms and shouted into the rooftop absolute nonsense. For him, it was the small glimmer in your eyes while you laughed at him.

He turned around and looked at you.

“[Y/N]...”

“Yes, Roger?”

“I… I think that… I think that I like- no I mean I think that love- I MEAN, no, no, no, It’s not that I like or love, I mean it’s kind of both, when do you know-“

“Roger, you’re rambling” You chuckled.

“I know” He laughed,” You make me tongue-tied. What I’m trying to say is…”

“‘I’ve never felt this way before’”

“Yeah, exactly”

“I feel that way too”

“You like me too?” Rog inquired

“Of course dumbass. I don’t why I like you but I do”

“Good. Because I don’t know why I like you either”.

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #queen #brian may #freddie mercury #john deacon #roger taylor headcannon #roger taylor x y/n #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fanfic #bohemian rhapsody #ben hardy #joe mazzelo x reader #gwilyn lee #rami malek #borhap

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 5 years ago

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The sharing bed prompts I loveee that shit. What about “person A hogs all the covers and person B’s solution is to spoon them” and “does that feel good” with Rami as person B?

Part I

I feel like, at this point, it’s almost cruel not to write the smut scene that is clearly inevitable. Part III, anyone?

* * * * *

The sound of the rooster pierced through the window of the motel, and my eyes shot open. I saw the outline of the bird flap its wings and heard it cry again, this time a little farther away.

When did the blankets in this shithole get so heavy, I thought as I tried to stretch but found I could barely move.

Rami’s arm tightened its grip on me and his leg shifted, his thigh pressing in tighter between my legs.

I closed my eyes and inwardly groaned as I realized it was not a blanket on top of me but a Rami Malek. Apparently, using human beings as mattresses was okay in his world.

Not that I blamed him.

The bed was thin, and I could feel hard lumps digging into the parts of my body that were more tightly pressed into the mattress, thanks to Rami sleeping on me.

“Rami,” I said loudly, wiggling a little so he’d wake up.

He was a notoriously heavy sleeper; granted, he couldn’t always fall asleep quickly, but once he was out, he was out.

“Rami,” I said again, pushing my shoulder up to jostle his head from its nest between my shoulder blades.

“Y/N,” he sighed in a way that made my stomach feel like it was suddenly filled with goo.

His face was moving, his nose burrowing into my t-shirt as he deeply inhaled and rocked his body against mine. I could feel him growing hard against my ass, and I froze, wishing this was literally any other time or place.

“Rami,” I groaned with exasperation. “You’re squashing me,” I said with another skootch away from him, except I had nowhere to go other than onto the floor.

Rami nuzzled into me again and his big hand grasped my breast, kneading it before his entire body froze. He opened his hand like my breast was on fire and he backed away so quickly, I almost bounced right off the edge of the bed.

I could literally hear him opening his mouth in horror, his hands covering his face as he said with a muffled voice, “I am so sorry. I . . . I wasn’t fully awake.”

“One part of you was,” I offered, suppressing my laugh.

I could feel the horror radiate off of him as he stilled completely when he registered he was aroused.

“This is a nightmare,” he whispered.

“Waking up in bed with me is a nightmare?” I asked, enjoying that he was so openly paving the way for me to make this difficult for him, a minor payback for the mess he had technically gotten us all into.

I felt him twitch under the blankets, his hands with nowhere to go except up and into his hair. I could feel him tugging on his curls as he tried to think of a way to smooth this over.

“No . . . I—I’m—I didn’t mean . . . fuck!” he cursed.

“Not until I’ve brushed my teeth, had a proper shower, and Gwil and Joe are not on the other side of a paper-thin wall,” I said, listening as I heard rustling coming from next door, hoping it was the boys and not a gang of rats.

Rami finally let himself laugh, and I felt his head turn in my direction.

“Do you mean that?”

I rolled flat onto my stomach, still not looking over at him.

“I don’t know, Rami. I don’t think I will know until this tour is wrapped up.”

“That’s fair,” he said, turning on his side to face me.

“My back feels like it is on literal fire,” I complained, trying to stretch it out a little. “Someone used me as a mattress instead of letting his spoiled ass sleep on whatever the fuck this thing is.”

Rami shifted closer to me, and I felt his large hand come to rest on my lower back. Gently, he began to press into the muscles and a long, low moan escaped me.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, and I could hear the smirk on his face.

“Yesss,” I hissed out, almost in tears from how good it felt to have my aching muscles massaged.

“It might feel even better without this,” Rami said tugging at my t-shirt.

I paused for a moment, then wriggled out of my shirt, my front still pressing into the mattress.

Rami angled himself toward me, then pushed my tangled hair out of the way. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to my shoulder, and when his strong hand squeezed the muscle on the opposite side, I was unable to stop the groan that fell from my lips.

Rami hummed at my response and got to work, thoroughly massaging my back while I fought not to make too much noise. By the time he had worked down to my lower back, I felt like a new person.

“Is Rami always that quiet during sex?” Gwil asked as if he were sitting down to tea right next to us.

I lifted myself up onto my elbows as my head whipped in Rami’s direction.

“How the hell would I know?” Joe replied.

“Hey! Hey Ram! You remember that time on the set of this little ditty called The Pacific and we—” Gwil began, his voice shifting into an American accent that sounded an awful like Joe.

“Oof,” came Gwil’s muffled cry as Joe had clearly thrown his pillow at him.

“We are not having sex,” Rami answered them, and the shuffling next door came to an immediate halt. “Are you two? Because Y/N and I can come back later—”

The boys broke into a smattering of laughter and I did too as I wriggled back into my t-shirt.

Rami and I heard them climb out of bed and shuffle through the bathroom, still pausing to knock lightly on our door.

“Come iiiiin,” I sang, moving to an upright position on the bed, once again, pulling all the covers with me.

“Hey!” Rami exclaimed, chasing after them and snuggling into my side, wrapping an arm around my waist. I looked down at his dark head and smiled at the wildness of his hair before Gwil took a seat in the chair that was now an even more putrid of a yellow in the morning light.

“Those walls give new meaning to paper-thin,” I said, still smiling.

“Look at that grin, Y/N,” Joe said before sitting down the edge of the bed near Rami’s feet. “That’s a grin of one satisfied lil lady.”

Rami kicked at him, and I rolled my eyes.

“A very satisfying back massage, yes. Does Rami always use the people in his bed as a mattress?” I directed at Joe.

His mouth popped open and his eyes widened.

“Why do you people think I know these things about him?”

“Hey, Joey? Remember that one night when we were filming The Pacific—”

“No!” Gwil and I both shouted at the same time, setting Rami and Joe both to laughing.

#Rami Malek #Rami Malek x Reader #female reader #guest starring #joe mazzello #gwilyn lee #fluff #bed sharing #bed sharing prompt #borhap #Borhap fic

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fandoms-girl · 5 years ago

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Ok so I found this picture and.... I might have just been scarred for life.

#bohemian rhapsody fandom #bohemian rhapsody #joe mazzello #joe mazzelo x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #rami malek #lucy boynton #gwilyn lee #bohemian rhapsody cast #freddie mercury #roger taylor #john deacon #rami malek x reader #brian may

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80s-roger · 5 years ago

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affair pt3 - Dad!Roger x Fem!Reader

click to one of those if you wanna check:

masterlist ~ part one ~ part two

warnings: none I guess

words: 2,342

note: Sorry for waiting so long! My PC had a problem and now I'm on my phone so there's not the 'keep reading' option! A request is coming soon!

------------ on with the story, there will be part 4!------------

So after your agreement with him getting back with you legally, costed your mental health which is always unstable and never in good condition. You just have him at your house spending time with your only daughter, whom struggled to bring in this world and he knows it, however, he doesn't really care anymore about it, let alone about you. He just apologised to get back to Audrey. He loves her more than anything, you could never doubt it. He doesn't love you but her and that somehow is something.

He's been around you for almost seven months and to have the facts stated, you did sleep together. That was something you were craving for. You wanted to feel his body on you and his kisses on your skin. But there was something missing. You missed a feeling which wasn't mutual. There wasn't any love from him. You would believe he was just using you for pleasure. But then, you would say he's cheating on you again with groupies. After their new album, he was out there promoting the album with Brian. It was unknown to you why Freddie didn't follow. What wasn't unknown to you, was Roger sleeping with groupies in the meanwhile.

It felt good having his presence at this big house but not as good as it was in the past before Audrey was born. He was so in love with you. You've spent almost a decade struggling with your emotions and the instability of them.

After him coming home again, you both had sex four or five months later. It took you a while to get used to his presence again, let alone let him see your soul and your body. You low-key believed he would never ever want to have a bone zone with you after the divorce and after the withdrawal. But now, things got much worse. Your circle has delayed for three months and you had to find out if there was a pregnancy on the way. You were assured after taking the pregnancy test which was positive and it was the last thing you wanted at the moment. You wouldn't be able to bring it up with love and optimism. Your man didn't love you and he didn't know about it. You had to stop that pregnancy even though you were possibly in the third month.

You were in the kitchen, talking to your gynaecologist but you didn't hear Roger coming home after taking Audrey at the kindergarten.

"I can't keep it, I have to stop the pregnancy." You said as the lump on your throat got in the way. It would definitely be a blond beautiful kid with blue eyes. Roger's genes are so strong and it's obvious to Audrey.

"Do you know exactly the month or week you currently are?"

"Must be around twelve weeks. Please tell me something can happen." you were unapologetically intolerant about it. You weren't into making a second child with Roger. He doesn't even love you, stupid girl.

"Please, pay us a visit, it can't be said via telephone... We will see what we can do."

You made the appointment for the day after tomorrow, wishing the abortion would work, without jeopardizing your life.

"What the hell is going on here?" Roger invaded in the kitchen, scaring the crap out of you.

"Jesus, Roger!" you looked at him frightened. "Were you eavesdropping?" you asked at the same tone.

"I came to my home and I heard you talk about a pregnancy wanting to be stopped. I think this has to be discussed with me too." Roger was legit serious, he even blocked the door so you wouldn't leave.

"This has nothing to do with you." you cold-heartedly said, trying to leave the kitchen but he wouldn't let you.

"I think I helped with the fertilization, didn't I?" he ironically asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I bet you didn't use protection so you'd leave a baby inside me and then you'd never get the hell out of here." him doing it on purpose and you not realising it, stressed you just at the thought of it.

"What makes you think of that? You are so desperate for me." He was so unbothered.

"You're so up to yourself Roger, you're only here because of Audrey. Just because I accepted your apology doesn't mean I trust you again." you defended yourself.

"Audrey is my world and I don't give a shit if you trust me or not, but you're keeping this child." he sounded like he was forcing you.

"You're not going to tell me what to do, this is my body and I make the rules!" you yelled.

"Make the rules when the baby is not inside you!" He yelled back and left the kitchen. "I'm the father of it and you're not doing any abortion." for a moment you hoped he was telling this just because he was afraid it would go unsuccessful and then it would harm you too. Was he worried about you? No, if he was, he wouldn't talk to you this way.

"I will make abortion and you wanna know why?" you forcefully asked ready to attack. "Why?" he questioned, "Because you don't love me, you don't care about me and I had to withdraw our divorce because Audrey wanted your presence and so did you." you were so heartbroken, your mental health was above zero like it's always been.

"So you did me a favour?" he asked.

"Consider it a favour, yeah..." You walked outside, going upstairs and he was following you.

"So you still think I don't love you?" he asked as you were tidying Audrey's room.

"I am sure about it," you answered without looking him.

"If I didn't love you, I wouldn't even attempt sleeping on the same bed with you, let alone have sex. I wouldn't even make the effort talking to you right now. Just because I'm not saying it and you're not hearing it often, doesn't mean I don't love you, y/n." you heard his voice lowering as his speech was coming to an end.

"You cheat on me Roger." you exhaled, finally looking at him devastated. "I've lost my sleep with these thoughts. I've lost my piece since we started dating eight years ago." you shook your head frustrated with your thoughts.

"Then why did you keep up with me from the beginning?" he asked with his arms crossed.

"Because I was blindly in love with you, I didn't care. But look at me now. A second child that's undesirable. I'm not happy, Roger!" you emphasized your last words and he seemed broken.

"I'm sorry what you're going through, but we have to stick together for our kids' sake." he came closer to you, placing your fingers around his.

"No, don't do this. You're only making it worse. You make me feel defeated again." you pulled away at his touch. You were dying for it, but you had to be fully strong.

"So now you are avoiding me? You literally whined before, for not being affectionate towards you." his face characteristics were tough.

"Listen Roger, I only blame myself for loving you and letting you home again! I'm only doing it for our daughter!" you shouted and left the room and he was following you. Voices, still loud.

"Don't pretend like you don't value my presence in this goddamn house!" you felt him moving his hands frantically in the air as you were walking down the stairs. "You're too desperate and depended on me, you make me believe you set it all up."

"Aren't you tired?" you looked back at him.

"Tired of what?" he asked confused.

"Reminding me of how hard I fell for you? How hard it was accepting all these things the press said about you? You cheating on me all this time when I was home raising our child? Ain't what I did enough?" you asked disappointed. He didn't talk neither walk. He was just there standing and watching you getting pale in seconds.

"Y/n, you alright?" he asked concerned, but you couldn't answer. Your sight was getting blurry and his voice was muting.

"I... I think I'm gonna pass out." you hermetically closed your eyes and lost your balance at the stairs. Holding yourself didn't assist.

You fell from the stairs and you can clearly remember your back and head aching from the fall and Roger ran towards you, trying to help you gain your consciousness.

"Y/n! Y/n please, hey, wake up!" he searched for a steady pulse at your wrists but it was unsteady and low. "No, no, don't do this to me, please, y/n! If you listen to me, just move your lips or say something, just do something!" you could hear him speaking fast and nervously to you but you couldn't move. But you could moan or something. All you could do was just a sound with your mouth since you felt really incapable of doing anything else. "We're rushing to the hospital babe!" he tried picking you up to his arms and ran to his car.

You lost your senses throughout the ride to the hospital. The next thing you could remember was hearing him cry. Flashbacks of you going to the hospital regularly for exams during your entire pregnancy due to the early difficulties hit him like a truck. "I can't lose you too." he whimpered next to you as you attempted opening your eyes. Too?

"Has she awoke yet?" you heard a doctor speaking.

"N- no, she hasn't." A frightened Roger could be heard to you while his hand didn't leave yours.

"Maybe the drug was too strong to handle." you could hear them but not respond.

"How's the baby? Did you check the fetus?"

"It's fine... Maybe the lady felt dizzy and she just fainted. Maybe her hematocrit is low, her exams will show it soon. Is there any event that recently happened and it's causing her mental and physical pain?" Doctor asked interested about your health and you really wondered what would Roger say. He's the reason why your health is shit.

"Um she has some emotional instabilities..." his touch distanced from your skin.

"It could be some kind of depression during her pregnancy. Do you have another child?"

"A daughter, she's six."

"Maybe she was going through postpartum depression, there's no other explanation... And she still has that reflex of it." The doctor said and after five minutes of the talk he left and Roger stayed with you.

You opened your eyes after half an hour and you saw Roger's head laying to your bed while his hand grabbed yours like he's protecting you. "Rog..." you quietly said and his head popped up immediately, looking at you scared.

"Babe, you alright?" he asked concerned.

"Yeah, what happened to me, did they tell you?" you asked, itching your head.

"It's probably due to some kind of depression... Did you got after Audrey's birth?" he asked.

"Postpartum depression? Yes, but you didn't know," you told him without hesitating about insulting his ego.

"How didn't I know about it? It's about you," he asked confused.

"Anything about me is unimportant to you," you stated at the door and you could feel him getting angry with your words.

"I'm trying to help right now, but you don't help yourself."

"You were here when your first kid was born but not around during her bring up. You were touring and promoting and I was here, diagnosed with postpartum depression while you were out there ch-"

"Cheating on you, I know. I did cheat on you. But stop bringing this up all the time. Now I'm here." he attempted calming you down.

"Yeah, but your ego still over the heavens."

"Y/n, stop this I'm only doing it for the kids." his tone got higher.

"The next time, make sure you're doing this for me too because I am the one who struggles every second of the day, neither is Audrey nor this!" You shouted pointing at your stomach.

"Y/n you know I have no chill but right now, I'd have left the room. I could have let you there on the floor you know!" he tried to save himself, you attacked him with words.

"Do I own you a thank you for that?" you mocked him and he was furious by now.

"Jesus, y/n stop it!!" he shouted and you finally shut your mouth. You crossed the line even under your condition. He sat back at his chair not saying a word again.

"Whatever happens, I want you to know that I don't want this child," you said out of the blue.

"Why are you saying that?" he asked confused.

"I'm just saying." you turned your body opposite him, avoiding any contact.

"Don't you dare commit suicide. You've attempted it in the past, don't fucking do it. You have a daughter." his voice was threatening.

"She loves you, what's the point." you murmured but he heard it.

"Y/n your depression is really transmitting, I can't help you if you can't help yourself at first. If you attempt it, Audrey is done." he tried to turn you from his side but you moved your body as a sign of leaving me alone.

"Just let me give birth to this kid and let me die, I can't be like this anymore." you whimpered. Your depression has been around for a decade. Could have been more if your family issues count.

"Don't say that. Audrey needs you. I need you." his last words sounded like begging.

"You'll find another groupie, you won't need me as you did during our divorce or even before that." your cold voice hit him again.

"Get some rest, I've had enough of you." he left the room without saying anything else and you were finally ready to let your tears fall down. You struggled to keep them for minutes. Now it's time to cry without hesitation.

taglist: @bohemiansweede @funitrog

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brian-roger-deaky-and-fred · 6 years ago

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“Here for a Friend” (Brian May x Reader)

A/N: I’m happy with this one! Sorry I wrote Roger as kind of an asshole at first! I used a few prompts! Let me know if you want the links! I put a Bohrap gif, but this could be read for real Brian or Gwilym!Brian :)

Synopsis: Brian comforts the Reader after Roger makes fun of her for being a virgin.

Warnings: Lot’s o’ Smut, Cursing, Roger Being an Ass, Loss of Virginity

***********************************

“Don’t sit too close to her, John. She’s waiting ‘til marriage.”

Roger teased, giving you a wicked smirk. Ever since he’d found out that you were still a virgin, he hadn’t let it go.

“Oh leave her alone, darling.” Freddie interjected, giving Roger’s knee a slap. “Maybe she just doesn’t whore herself out on the weekends like some of us do…”

He gave the blonde a sideways glance and rolled his eyes.

“Maybe she’d actually have a bit of fun if she loosened her bloody chastity belt every once in a while.”

“Shove off, Roger.” Brian spat at him from the corner. He ignored the comment, turning back to you.

“Tell us Y/N, are you a prude or is it that no one actually wants to fuck you-”

“Shut up!” Brian called again, more angry this time. He turned to look at you, but you were gone, having already started down the hallway.

“You’re such a prick, Roger.” John sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.

***********************************

Angry tears welled in your eyes as you closed your bedroom door a bit too roughly and fell into your bed, burying your face in your pillow. You noticed your reflection in the mirror hanging on your wall and the tears finally spilled onto your cheeks. “He’s right” you thought to yourself. “No one’s ever going to want that.”

You stared at the girl in the reflection as your tears slowed, hating her more and more every second you locked eyes with her. You dug your face into your pillow as you heard a gentle knock at your bedroom door.

“Go away, Roger. Just leave me alone.” You called sharply, not bothering to look up.

The door opened cautiously, “It’s not Rog, sweetheart.”

You immediately relaxed at the sound of the kind voice. Brian.

“Roger’s being tried for his crimes at the moment.”

You laughed breathily as he sat down on the bed next to you.

“And what are you doing?” You mumbled softly into the fabric of your pillow case.

“I’m here for a friend…” he offered, rubbing his hand over your back, comfortingly. You sighed as you tried to relax your muscles more.

“It’s not because I’m a prude…” your voice was weak and muffled by the bedding.

Brian smiled sadly, “No one thinks you’re a prude, love.”

“Roger does-”

“Roger’s just mad that he’s known you for 4 years and he still hasn’t gotten you to suck his dick in the back of the tour bus yet. He’s gotten head from every woman he’s ever even thought about wanting except you, so he’s being pissy about it.”

Your face went red. You were glad Brian didn’t see.

“That’s disgusting.” You groaned.

Brian chuckled, silently thankful that news of Roger’s weird lust didn’t excite you.

“Agreed. Regardless, you’ve got nothing to worry about. No one thinks you’re a prude.”

You rubbed your eyes, which were red from tears, “I don’t know…I just…I’m not a sexy person, Brian. I don’t turn people on. I make people laugh sometimes. That’s pretty much the best I can do.”

He smiled warmly, “First of all, I’d rather have a good laugh than a shag any day, love. Second, you’re ridiculously sexy.”

You shook your head, though you were incredibly flustered by the idea of Brian finding you sexy.

He sighed and crossed his outrageously long legs casually, “Well regardless, you shouldn’t worry about it. You’re not missing out on much.”

You frowned, “What?”

“It’s not all that great. I haven’t been with many people but I’ve never gotten too much pleasure from it, I guess.” Part of you was saddened by the comment. He shrugged, “I suppose it might be better with someone you love.”

He fiddled with the hem of your shirt absentmindedly.

You swallowed thickly, red crawling up your neck. It was a terrible idea. Absolutely horrible.

“Do you-….Do you think it’d feel better…if it was with me?”

He tried not to let you see how big his eyes got. He immediately felt an ache form below his stomach. “What?” He choked on the word.

She bit her lip, feeling the color rise even further up her cheeks. “I…I mean I just…I thought it’d be nice. You…you could show me-"

"You’d trust me with that?”

“Of course I trust you, Bri. I want to make you feel good, if I can.”

You could see the wheels turning in his head, “If this is because of what Roger said-”

“When have I ever based my decisions on something Roger has said? That’d be self sabotage.”

Brian gave a breathless laugh, meeting your eyes. He paused, “You’d want me?”

You nodded. He had such adoration in his eyes, but his face fell a little, “I…I don’t..want to hurt you, sweetheart.” You brought your forehead to his and he held your face in his hands. He furrowed his brow in thought.

“Brian, love…It’s going to hurt. But hey,” she lifted his chin and he met her eyes again. “I trust you with…. with me. If you’ll have me…” The air was thick.

“You’re sure you want this?” He whispered. You could feel his breath on your lips. You nodded as you tucked one of his curls behind his ear and he smiled.

“Well alright, then.”

“What ever are we supposed to do first?” You teased him, a coy smirk tugging at your lips. Brian’s head was running at about a million miles per minute.

“I think it must be something like this…” He pressed his lips slowly to yours, leaning in as he climbed over top of you. You were needy and soft and he wanted nothing more than to make you writhe beneath him. He had never kissed like this before, with love and want. He hummed lustfuly and ran his hand into your hair, guiding your head to the side. He ran his lips over your jaw and down to your collarbone, leaving open mouthed kisses along his way before running his tounge across the skin of your neck. You whimpered at the feeling, followed by a little gasp as he nipped at your earlobe. He groaned at the noises and you could feel the vibrations in his chest. He pulled back a little, “Can…can I pull back your shirt, love?” He fumbled over his words.

“Please…” you panted. He found your lips again as he slid his warm hands up under the fabric of your t-shirt. He held you closer still, fingers grazing over your ribs. You whined a bit as he moved downwards, kissing and biting lightly at your stomach. His hands slid further up your middle, tugging your shirt again.

“Take it off, Bri…”

“On a schedule, are we?” He taunted as he slowly dragged a finger down your stomach, toying with the button on your jeans. He wasn’t even trying to hide his smirk. In one swift motion, you rolled, straddling his hips. He immediately groaned. You leaned over him, pulling his hair back before running your tounge over the shell of his ear, taking notes from his earlier move. You whispered to him heatedly, “Well if you’re going to be a little tease about it then hell, I’ll go find Roger and-”

“Don’t you even start!” You could hear the laughter in his voice as he pushed you back down onto the bed. You squealed and giggled as he made quick work of your shirt. He cursed breathlessly against your lips at the sight. You hummed, “Yours too, love…

He yanked his tshirt over his head, obediently and pulled you up into his lap. He bit his lip as you ran a hand over his chest, using the other to grab the clap of your bra.

"Sh-should I?-”

“It’s whatever you feel comfortable with, sweetheart."

You smiled nervously, taking his hand in yours and leading it to your back, allowing him to take it off of you himself. He held his breath, looking to you for permission before unhooking the clasp. You let it fall from your shoulders, shivering as the cold air hit your skin. He smiled kindly and pulled your comforter up over your shoulders. He was obviously doing everything he could to not stare at your bare chest, but his attempts weren’t as successful as he’d hoped. You took his hand, kissing each of his knuckles before going to kiss his cheek.

"It’s alright, Brian…”

Carefully, not taking his eyes from yours, he ran his thumb lightly over one of your nipples.

“Are you nervous?” He had concern in his voice, and he slowed his hands, which had still been moving grazingly over your breasts.

You nodded reluctantly, “a bit."

He took your face in his hands, "Hey, look at me…if you want to stop then we’ll stop. We don’t have to do everything at once, darling. If you hurt or you’re tired or worried we can try again another…”

He trailed off suddenly realizing how low your hands were creeping. You ran a finger over the button of his jeans before popping it loose, successfully distracting him. He took a shallow breath and you tugged down the zipper, teasingly slow.

“Show me how to make you feel good, Bri.” You cooed.

“It’s…fuck…you don’t have to do anything for me..” He finally managed to get the words out.

“I didn’t ask if it was required. I asked you to show me how to make you feel good.”

He paused in thought, something like he did far too often, and you took the opportunity to run your fingers through his hair, “Tell me what you want, Brian…"

He swallowed, "Roll your hips, darling…” He mumbled, giving into you.

You gave a test rock of your hips and your stomach tightened at the feeling. Brian hissed a little and grabbed your hips in response, thumbs pressing into your stomach. You whimpered, biting your lower lip.

“Fucking hell…” he panted, knowing he’d do just about anything to coax those little noises out of you.

You grinded down against him again, causing his hips to buck upwards against you. The slight pressure between your legs pulled a sharp breath from you.

He could barely manage to form words, “Touch me.” He choked and you smiled.

“Lay back, sweets.”

He did, helping you drag his jeans down and over his ankles. He let out a string of curses at the friction the fabric caused. Experimentally, you traced the outline of his length through his underwear. He sucked in a breath and you grinned before playfully folding back the elastic of his boxers.

“Tell me what feels good, love.”

You whispered. He could feel the heat of your breath against him through the fabric.

“Well if you’re going to be a little tease about it then hell, I’ll go find Roger and-” his cheeky laugh was stopped short as you palmed him again.

“You can take them off…if you want…”

“On a schedule, are we?” You mumbled as you stroked him. He groaned, hips stuttering as you carefully tugged at the fabric.

“Bloody hell…”

He quickly aided you in sliding them off and you realized he was completely bare. It made heat pool between your legs. You had never craved sex the way you did right then. You studied him and you couldn’t help but imagine him touching himself…perhaps even whilst thinking of you. You ran both of your index fingers lightly over his hip bones, before running one of them down the underside of his shaft. His body was stiff and desperate. Finally, you took him in your hand, pumping him. He thrusted upwards into your hand a little and his eyes screwed shut. The sight was absolute art. He was painfully hard in your hand as you tightened your grip, running your thumb over his head. You nuzzled your face against his neck and mumbled hotly against his ear

“Do you want my mouth, Brian?”

He stirred and groaned in a way that told you he most certainly did, but before you could move he grabbed your arm. The air far too heavy for him to form coherent phrases.

“…Don’t have to…’s not about me.”

You smirked, “You act like it’s a chore.” He tried to ground himself a little more, meeting your eyes. He was so damn lovely like this. You longed to pleasure him in the ways no one else had, “I want to,” you reassured.

His forehead creased, “You’re sure?”

You nodded quickly. You were almost desperate to feel his skin on yours again.

“Do you want me lie down or would you rather take me on your knees?

You grinned wickedly, "Stand up…”

He pushed himself up off the bed and stood before you, looking absolutely, entirely over-whelmed.

“You’re alright with this?” You mumbled sweetly.

He nodded quickly, “Tell me if you want to stop.”

You gently took his hands, with the intent of putting them on you, but he brought them to your face, crooning down to kiss you in a way that made your heart jump around in your chest. As he pulled away, you pushed his hands backwards, lacing them in your hair. He gathered it behind you carefully, tucking a few strands behind your ears.

The noise he made when you took him into your mouth was down right sinful. Pornographic. You felt the way your body reacted to it and ran your tounge along him.

“You can use me, darling.” You encouraged lovingly as you stroked his arm that held your hair.

His grip tightened a bit and he carefully guided your head. Brian swore like mad, almost seeing stars.

“God, you feel so good…”

You kept your eyes on his face, revelling in the way his jaw had fallen slack with a silent moan. You could feel the way he pulsed against your lips. Without warning, he pulled away, desperately tugging you up into a hungry kiss before he pushed you backwards onto the bed. He nipped his way up your neck playfully and you gasped in a way that made him absolutely long for you.

“If you keep that up this’ll be over far too quickly, my love.” His voice was thick with lust. You rolled your hips upwards against him and he pinned them down.

“Behave.” He chuckled. You whined at the comment.

“I think it’s about time I repay that little mouth of yours, don’t you think?” Your stomach flipped nervously and he smiled, “Have you ever touched yourself, sweetheart?”

His nose brushed against yours and you grew tense with anticipation. You nodded.

“Good. Did it make you feel nice?”

You paused, “Sort of.”

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, “Have you ever made yourself cum?” He mumbled. While his words seemed somewhat taunting, his eyes were genuine. You shook your head, slightly embarrassed.

“D'you think I could have a go at it, then? See if I can help?” His voice was kind and gentle in a way you hadn’t expected. He was showing an insane level of self control. You nodded and he beamed. He kissed your forehead lightly and you pulled him closer into you, almost in a hug. You felt him press a sweet kiss against your cheek and he spoke.

“I’m going to touch you now…is that alright?” You nodded quickly, heat flooding your body. His hands slid down your stomach.

He snaked his hand between the two of you and you bit down on your lower lip as you felt him rub against you through your jeans. Even through the fabric, he could tell you were soaked.

“How’s that feel, doll?” You were about to answer, but whined hoarsely as he started rubbing circles between your thighs with his thumb.

“That’s a good girl…” he smirked lustfully. Your hands found your waistband and you desperately fought to free yourself from your jeans. He hummed and smiled before pulling them down off of you, tossing them into a corner.

Brain dragged his index finger over your soaked underwear, making you buck against the touch weakly. He chuckled “What? Did that feel nice?”

“You’re funny.” You deadpanned, trying to steady yourself. Brian leaned down, kissing the inside of your knee and moving upwards. You groaned at the feeling of his breath between your legs, which were slick with warmth.

“You’re fucking lovely, you know that? Gorgeous, all laid out here for me.”

You gave a choked whine as he hooked a finger under the damp fabric keeping him from your middle and slowly pulled it downward.

“Is this alright?” He whispered carefully, waiting for your approval. You nodded quickly and he smiled, kissing his way through the valley between your breasts. When he’d finally rid you of your panties, you felt oddly exposed. You pressed your legs together.

“How are we feeling, love?” He mumbled gently. He noticed your hesitance and wrapped your bed sheet around your shoulders.

“I’m feeling a lot of things all at once.”

“Is it too much?”

“Not enough…” you teased. He grinned.

“Are you worried?”

“Not with you here. I’m more worried about what’s to happen an hour from now.”

“And why’s that?”

“I don’t want you to go.”

Brian’s heart lept a bit.

“Well, unless you had other plans, I would be more than happy to hold you as close as possible all night long. And everyday after if you’d let me.”

“Don’t say that unless you mean it.” You warned, knowing you had fallen for him hard and fast a long long time ago.

“I wouldn’t.” You paused, unable to find the words. Instead, you pulled him down to your level and lightly kissed his forehead. He nudged his nose upwards to meet your lips with his. Your muscles relaxed and you were suddenly aware of just how terribly you wanted him. He pulled you up onto his lap, his back against the wall.

“I’m not so worried anymore, Brian.” You whispered.

“You’ve nothing to worry about, love.”

You could feel how hard he was against your thigh and it nearly made you dizzy.

“You feel what you’re doing to me?” He muttered hoarsely.

“I could ask you the same thing…” You panted as he rubbed painfully slow circles over your clit. He thought to himself, knowing it would still be a little much for you to have him first.

“Do you think you could take my fingers, angel?”

You nodded anxiously and he pulled you closer, “Just relax…That’s it.” He grazed his middle finger over your entrance, ever so gently pressing deeper into you as you exhaled.

“How’s that feel?” He cooed, peppering kisses across your collarbone. He could scarcely handle how tight and wet you were for him.

“Fuck Brian, I want you…”

He studied your face for any pain as he slowly moved inside of you. Right when you didn’t think you could take another second, he pulled his fingers from you and brought them to his lips, sucking on them.

“Inside me, Brian.” You begged as you rolled your body against him. He gave a rough moan as his hands found your hips. He went to climb over top of you, but you stopped him, “I think…I think want to ride you…” He swallowed and sat back down, wrapping his arms around you.

“We can try that, sweetheart.” He tucked your hair behind your ear and brushed your nose with his.

“I’m nervous of hurting you.”

“I don’t think it’s going to hurt for long, darling.” He nodded, relaxing a bit. You felt him rub along your middle gently and you took in a little breath when his tip brushed over your clit.

“Do you want this?”

“Desperately…”

With that, he let you sink down onto his tip agonizingly slow. It wasn’t until about half way down that you started feeling pain. You whimpered pitifully and Brian stopped, giving you time to adjust around him.

“Jesus, you’re doing so good, baby girl. You’re taking me so well.” You bit your lip, the tight pain starting to subside, “Almost there, love. Just a bit more…” You nodded. Your body tensed as you took the last of him to the hilt. It stung. He was so big inside you. Everything was unbelievably tight. You whimpered again pitifully and he wrapped his arms around you as your eyes filled with tears.

“That’s it, angel. I’ve got you. You’re doing beautifully, my love.” His heart broke a little and he kissed a tear that had rolled down your cheek. Your wetness against his stomach had him reeling but he was far more concerned with those tears than anything else.

“Sweetheart, I think we’ve done enough for tonight…” he comforted, stroking your hair. He lifted your hips carefully, allowing himself to pull out, a bit. You moaned at the movement, completely forgetting the pain you were in.

“That…that felt good, Bri. Fuck. Move…”

Hesitantly, he slowly pushed his hips back up into you and in response, you rocked against him, taking him deeper. His eyes screwed shut with a sharp breath.

“You feel so fucking good, love. Taking my cock so well.”

You grinded against his hips, desperate for friction. You could feel him in your stomach. He laid you back onto the bed and started pressing his hips into you a bit faster, still studying your face for discomfort. You met his thrusts and Brian swore under his breath again as he watched himself sink into you over and over again. The way he was hitting your pubic bone was driving you crazy. Suddenly, he hit something else deeper inside you that made you writhe.

“That’s it, love. That’s my girl.” He pressed his thumb to your clit and you cried out hoarsely.

“Jesus, Brian don’t stop..”

You could feel him throbbing inside of you. The pulsing made your head spin. Your stomach was growing tighter and tighter.

Brian nipped at your collarbone, absolutely reveling in the sounds you were making, “Cum for me, darling. It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

Your legs clenched tightly as his words finished you off. It was absolute bliss. Like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Brian continued pumping into you, letting you ride out your high as long as possible. You trembled as everything in you was hit with waves of pleasure, down to your fingertips. You cried out weakly, your back arching as you tightened around him. Watching you cum around his cock was far more than enough to tug Brian over the edge with you. He pulled out of you gently and released onto your stomach with a choked sob.

Both of you sat silently for a few minutes, panting, before Brian found his underwear in the pile of discarded clothes on your floor and slid them on. He jogged over to the bathroom and soon return with a wet washcloth. Crawling back on top of you, he kissed your forehead and nose lovingly. You were still trembling as he held you, and he knew that you had to be overwhelmed by everything that’d just happened. He gestured for you to open yourself legs and you did so obediently. He gently ran the wash cloth over your thighs, being careful not to touch you where you were still too sensitive, and then over your stomach. You gave him a grateful smile and he returned to the bathroom, rinsing out the rag. When he returned, he crawled back into bed and pulled you flush against his chest. He took your trembling hand in his, hushing you as he kissed each of your fingertips.

“It’s alright, darling. I’ve got you.”

You relaxed your muscles and tried your best to steady your breathing.

He hummed sleepily, “I think I may have been right.” He ran his fingers over your temple as you looked up at him, before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“About what?”

“It definitely is better with someone you love.” You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him against you. He laughed breathily.

“I love you too, Brian.”

And ever true to his word, he held you as closely as possible for the rest of the night.

***********************************

The next morning, you woke up to the sun creeping through your blinds. You looked over to see Brian still by your side, wrapped tightly in your comforter. You laughed quietly and kissed your blanket thief on his forehead.

He hummed contentedly and you smiled as you started to pull on your clothes. You gently combed through his curls with your fingers, before whispering a little “I’ll be back, love.” against his ear. You left Brian with your comforter and wandered into the kitchen, finding John sitting at the table with a coffee mug as Roger fried hashbrowns.

“Morning, love.” John chimed, looking up from his book.

“Morning, John.”

Roger just gave you a sideways glance and focused on his hashbrowns.

“Where’s Fred?” You questioned as you stole a peice of bacon off of Roger’s plate.

“Went to get milk.” He yawned as he shooed your hand away.

“You need help with anything, Rog?” His gaze left the frying pan, shooting you a sly grin.

“I could thing of a few things you could help me with, darling…”

You rolled your eyes and poured two mugs of coffee from the pot. Just as you were about to add cream and sugar, you felt two long arms wrap around your waist in a tight hug.

“Well good morning, Sleeping Beauty…” You teased as Brian rested his head on your shoulder, his curls tickling your neck. “Two creams, no sugar, right?”

“Bingo.” He yawned and you turned to hand him his mug.

Roger gave a sharp look, undoubtedly noticing a little extra friendliness. He shook it off as Brian thanked you and sat down next to John at the kitchen table. You grabbed an orange from a bowl near the sink and sat down on the counter to peel it, much to Roger’s delight.

Freddie burst though the front door cheerfully with three gallons or milk.

“Good Morning my loves!” He dropped the milk jugs on the counter and Roger laughed.

“Jesus, Fred. Why’d you get three?”

“How was I supposed to know how much you needed, Darling. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

Roger smirked at you, obviously having forgotten his lesson from the night before. He stood in front of you on the counter, settling himself between your legs. You saw Brian clench his jaw as Roger put his hands on your knees. John must have noticed this too, as he mumbled, “Not a good plan, Rog.” under his breath. Still, the blonde persisted.

He chuckled, “What a coincidence, Fred! That’s also Y/Ns philosophy. Specifically when it comes to having any sort of fun between her legs-”

Suddenly, Brian grabbed Roger’s shoulder and tugged him backwards from you. Freddie took a drink of his orange juice, obviously enjoying the show.

“No, that’s just her philosophy about having any sort of fun with you. You absolute wanker…”

John laughed into his coffee mug, making him choke a little. Freddie gave him a few slaps to the back. Roger looked shocked and pissed at the same time.

Brian’s cheeks had gone red with anger. “Maybe if you didn’t act like you’re entitled to shag whoever the hell you please, you’d have actually had a chance with her. Jesus, Rog. Did you ever think maybe there’s a reason no one can stand to spend more than one night with your arrogant ass?”

Roger’s face went beet red. You had to admit it was a low blow.

Brian seemed to realize this too, “Look Rog, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. You know I think you’re brilliant. It’s just that Y/N’s family to us and I’m tired of seeing you treat her like she’s a walking pair of tits with no feelings. She’s a person. I know you care about her. We all do. She’s been with us for four bloody years. Wanting to bed her shouldn’t be enough for you to ignore that-”

Roger flipped around, shoving Brain roughly into the fridge. You jumped, startled, and tried to keep from fighting back.

“Maybe you should stop worrying about who I bring to bed and focus on yourself, asshole. Whose bed were you in last night, Brian? It sure as hell wasn’t yours, was it?” Brian’s face went white, unsure of how to respond. He should have known Roger would notice. He swallowed. A smug grin broke across Roger’s face. Suddenly there was a small voice from the counter.

“It was mine, Roger.”

There was a silence and Freddie beamed, whispering a little “holy shit”. Under his breath. Deacy refused to make eye contact with any one in the room, but his eyes were the size of dinner plates as he scanned a newspaper with his lips pursed together.

Roger paused, glancing over at you. “What?”

“He was in my bed, Rog.”

It was obvious that he still could quite grasp the idea. “What, were you guys scrapbooking or something?-”

“Brian and I had sex, Roger.” Your cheeks were beet red.

Roger turned to Brain, “So what, are you two a thing now?” Brian looked to you nervously.

You nodded, “If I’m not mistaken.”

Roger paused, turning back to Brian, “I…I can’t believe it.”

Brian bit his lip, “Roger, I’m so-”

“-I’m so fucking proud of you!”

Brian paused, “What?”

“Look at you!”, He gave Brian a light shove. “A right, Casanova, you are!”

Everyone in the room seemed completely lost.

“I’ve been trying to get in her pants for ages and bloody Brian May, Biochemist-”

“Astrophysicist-”

“- All he 'as to do is look at her funny and BOOM! He’s in her bed!”

Freddie let out a loud laugh. John just sat there in amazement, his jaw fallen slack.

“And you!” He turned to you swiftly. You were suddenly nervous.

“Look at you, sweetheart! You’ve still got sex hair! I suppose all the marks are below the neckline, are they?”

You’re eyes went wide with embarrassment and you ran your fingers through your hair.

“I’ve been trying to get Brian laid forever! And look at 'em! The asshole has sex for the first time in ages and it’s golden girl, over here! I’m bloody impressed with you!” He looked to both of you, a wide grin on his face.

“So you’re not angry?” You mumbled cautiously.

“Only that you made me burn the hashbrowns”, he grumbled as he threw the pan into the sink. “Hell, I’ve always thought you were sexy and I’ve obviously been trying to get a shag in for years now, but if I’d known Brian was stuck on you…I wouldn’t have touched you with a ten foot pole. I’m not a complete asshole.”

“You could have fooled us.” Freddie chimed in with a little wink.

Roger rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips.

Brian looked to you as the other boys went on distracting themselves, talking of lyrics and mourning Roger’s burnt hashbrowns.

He sleepily walked over to you, standing between your legs and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“What, did you not get much sleep last night, Mister May?” You mumbled cheekily as you ran your hand through his curls. He groaned and you wrapped your arms around his neck, laughing.

“Not nearly enough. We should most definitely go back to bed.” He whispered, kissing your hair.

*********************************

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