#these bitches are so hard to display too since they're all the same size i gotta fuckin

[civetcider]

Hey you guys wanna see my seasonal walmart fabric bird decor collection?

[sendrickbecs]

Unspoken Feelings (1/8)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26259739

It's unspoken. But it's there. It's always been there, ever since they first met eyes at the activities fair two years back. The undeniable connection between Beca Mitchell and Chloe Beale sprung from a small glance shared between the two on Beca's first day on campus to singing in the shower together, (both naked – and wet), and ever since then the connection hasn't stopped growing. It's undeniable, yet it's still denied by the two seniors. Everyone else can see it – hell, even the girl's parents notice the lingering touches and the longing stares – but they refuse to admit it.

Because admitting it would mean talking about it. Talking about feelings has never been something that Beca has been comfortable with. Growing up in the Mitchell household was tough, it was continuous arguments and unspoken apologies, it was having emotions but not allowing yourself to feel them. Beca's parents never talked about their feelings, unless it was their opinions on a particular Tv show or whether or not Beca was allowed to get a dog, (She was not). So, her parents lack of communication meant Beca grew up in a home (it was more of a house) where she was taught that expressing your feelings was a sign of weakness.

Beca doesn't want to be seen as weak so she builds rather high walls around herself and hides her true emotions from everyone, but also herself. She doesn't allow herself to feel.

Chloe, on the other hand could talk for days about literally anything to literally anyone, but when it comes to the girl's feelings about her best friend, she can't express a thing. It's like her mind is too full to process a single thought. And sometimes the redhead thinks that's how Beca makes her feel – full – content – happy. But she doesn't allow herself to actually feel those things. Because feeling would mean admitting and admitting would mean talking – something neither of the girl's are good at.

It took Beca weeks to admit that she had an internship at a recording studio because she's 'weird about that stuff' so admitting that she felt something more for the redhead than just friendship would definitely take some time.

. . .

As the brunette glances up at her best friend she catches her eye and they share a smile, one that grows on each of their faces when they notice the other isn't looking away. Normally that's their thing – Beca looks at Chloe, admires her and cherishes her beauty but as soon as Chloe looks up, Beca glances down, acting as if she wasn't just staring at her best friend. Chloe does it too, but she somehow manages to be a little more subtle than the brunette by faking an interest in something across the room or pretending to examine the state of her nails.

They finally tear their eyes from each other, because they have to at some point, although it's clear that neither girl would object to only looking at each other for the rest of their lives.

Their gazes land on the rest of their friends; The Bellas, who are looking up at them with slightly bored expressions. They have been in the auditorium for nearly an hour yet not a single girl has sung a word, much to their amusement – especially Emily, the youngest of the group. She seems to be even more enthusiastic about singing than Chloe if that's even possible. Chloe loves to sing, she thrives off of it, but the young Bella cannot go an hour without singing, which is why she looks about ready to explode.

"Does everyone remember the choreography?" Chloe asks, giving the group one of her famous and much loved (especially by Beca) Chloe Beale smiles.

Instead of a collection of mumbled responses, the girl is met with a chorus of questions and suggestions, one following after the other from nearly all of the girls.

Fat Amy is the first to respond, completely ignoring Chloe's question, "Can we get a snack first?" It makes Chloe roll her eyes slightly because the question is so typical of Amy, she's always finding time throughout rehearsal to sneak over to her bag and munch on a few tortilla chips, or make a trip to the vending machine just outside the auditorium only to return with fistfuls of snack sized chocolate bars.

Chloe is about to tell Amy that there's only fifteen minutes left of rehearsal so she can wait until it's over, but then another Bella pipes in.

"When are we going to sing today?" Emily asks, her eyes shining with desperation, the urge to sing growing stronger with each passing minute. The youngest Bella is adored by everyone – Amy has mixed opinions – but there are times where Chloe wants nothing more than for her to crawl under a rock and die. They will sing when they have perfected the choreography. And Emily, with her freakishly long giraffe legs is very clumsy – her moves are quite far from, as the former captain would say, 'two steps away from being almost fine' so the girl had a lot of improvements to make before she even thought about warming her voice up to sing.

"You're just as bad as Aubrey with the cardio." Cynthia Rose huffs, which causes Chloe to scrunch her nose up in frustration. She is not very good at handling negative criticism and the Bellas seem to very persistent in handing it out today.

Chloe likes to think that she's a better a capella captain than her blonde best friend because she had a lot of control issues to overcome and she could also be kind of a bitch to the rest of the group if they weren't doing it how she wanted it done. The fact that Beca was quite often on the receiving end of Aubrey's bitchy remarks always riled her anger. Ever since she met the girl and walked into her shower she felt the need to protect the small brunette, not that she needed protecting, Beca had quite the punch on her and her badass exterior was enough of a shield, but Chloe still wanted to have her back when people looked at Beca the wrong way or made a comment about her style – something Aubrey did an awful lot in her first few months of being Captain.

"Aubrey's cardio wasn't that bad." Stacie retorts with a suggestive smirk, which breaks Chloe from her downward spiral.

The other co-captain's head snaps up at the words. 'Only because you were getting special treatment from the bitchy blonde' Beca thinks, smirking to herself which makes Chloe turn to look at her with a knowing smile. It's like sometimes the two girls share the same thought process.

Lily mumbles something that is missed by everyone, but it was definitely something about a dead body, possibly multiple.

Chloe loves the Bellas, they're her family, but sometimes she wants to tell them to 'shut the hell up' and go all Posen on their asses by making them run laps around the auditorium just to prove to them that she isn't as bad as the former captain of The Barden Bellas. But when she catches a glimpse of the scowl a few metres away from her, she's reminded that she is the mellower one of the two co-captains.

"Two-minute break." She announces, which receives a few cheers and a sigh of relief from the Asian Jesus of the group. "How's it going?" Chloe questions once she's walked around the table and is now leaning behind Beca, peering at her laptop screen where Beca's music technology is displayed.

"Do they realise how hard it is to work on the set whilst they're complaining about everything?" The girl with the headphones around her neck lets out a groan.

Chloe laughs, the sound instantly bringing a smile to Beca's lips. "Your complaining is just as bad." Chloe mentions, "I was trying to work on some new dance moves last night and you were whining the entire time because I was distracting you."

"The dance moves were distracting." Beca admits as she lifts her headphones from around her neck and places them on the table in front of her, giving the redhead her undivided attention.

The older girl's lips quirk up into a smirk, "Well, if you were watching me for long enough for it to distract you then you'll know them well enough to demonstrate them to everyone." She says and stands up straighter, reaching her hand out towards Beca. "Come on, Bec."

There is a moment of hesitation from Beca as she assesses her options, she can either latch on to Chloe's hand and let the girl guide her to the middle of the auditorium where they rehearse the dance moves together. Or, she can say no, and be the cause of Chloe's upset once again. Beca decides that she isn't opposed to dancing with the redhead, especially because quite a few of the moves are pretty sexual, which means she has to dance against her.

It gives her an excuse to touch the other girl without it having to mean anything, so Beca accepts the hand and jumps up from the chair.

Before walking away with Chloe, the brunette spins around to her laptop and gets up the song that she knows Chloe was practicing the dance moves to the day before in the living room of the Bellas house.

All of the other Bellas are watching them more closely now, but Beca doesn't care. She's focusing on how her hand feels in Chloe's, just how right it feels. When they reach the centre of the room their hands part, only for a few seconds before Chloe brings her hand up to Beca's waist.

Beca is too fixated on the way Chloe's hand slips onto her waist, edging the material of her tank top upwards and resting her hand on the brunette's bare skin. It lightly tingles under Chloe's touch as she runs her thumb over her hipbone. The younger girl's breath hitches in her throat and she's forced to swallow, attempting to fix her breathing pattern.

Why the hell is she so worked up by this? Chloe is her best friend – nothing more.

"Beca." Her name roles off Chloe's tongue, snapping her out of her thoughts. She immediately looks up and her orbs lock onto those bright blue beauties she likes so much. Beca can barely process a single thought, Chloe's touch possessing her in a way that's so familiar – she has been under the redhead's control so many times but each time her mind fogs up like it's the first time she's ever been touched by the girl. Chloe clears her throat, catching Beca's attention once again, "Your hand."

Beca swallows but the lump in her throat doesn't go away, so she coughs instead. "What?" She mumbles once she's managed to clear her throat. She lowers her eyes, not capable of holding the contact knowing how intense the redhead's gaze can affect her.

"Put your hand on my shoulder." Chloe instructs, her tone is soft, showing Beca that she isn't demanding her, but the younger girl still does what she's told, unable to say no to her co-captain.

Once their hands are in the right places on each other's bodies, Chloe directs the dance move, taking control of the movement, rocking hers and Beca's bodies back and forth, creating friction between their bodies.

"Holy shit." Is all Beca can say when the movement comes to a stop.

"That was hot." Stacie comments, her eyes wide in thought.

Even though Chloe would never admit it out loud, she thinks it was hot too, having Beca touch her like that stirred something deep inside her, something she only wishes to explore more often. She just wants Beca's hands to return to her body, to relight the fire that's slowly flickering away since her hands were removed only moments ago. It's no secret that both girls' are blushing furiously, almost matching the colour of Chloe's long locks.

"I think I need a cold shower." Stacie mumbles, earning a glare from the shorter brunette.

Beca is trying to remain calm but the dance she's just done is replaying on a continuous loop in her head and the comments from Stacie are really not helping the matter. Especially the mention of a shower – that only causes Beca's mind to wander back to freshman year when Chloe entered her shower unannounced, how they sang titanium and harmonised so perfectly together. The thought of Chloe's naked body is making Beca's cheeks heat up all over again.

The other co-captain is having similar thoughts as she reminisces the particular shower that started it all. It was the first time she had heard the small, standoffish 'alt' girl sing, and Chloe loved that she was the first person Beca opened up to. She never sang in front of anyone – Beca had admitted that two weeks after joining the Bellas, but Beca was naked, wet and singing with her – for her.

"Stacie, shut up." Beca scoffs, her jaw clenching.

Chloe giggles and leans down to place a chaste kiss to Beca's cheek which makes the brunette's blushing intensify, she groans lightly at the contact even though inside it's causing heart to beat a little faster and adrenaline to pulse through her veins.

"Becs, you're so flustered." She whispers with a smile. The brunette groans once again, making everyone laugh but Chloe's giggle is all she can hear.

It's all too much for Beca – the touching, teasing, giggling, intensifying her hidden emotions. But what ultimately finished her off was the kiss to the check. Beca melted as soon as Chloe's lips and nose came in contact with her cheek.

"Okay, find your partners." Chloe calls and Beca is so thankful the attention has shifted from her.

Instead of joining in with her partner, Beca heads back over to her allocated table where her laptop and mixing equipment are already spread out. She takes her seat and quickly shoves her headphones on over her ears, blocking out the sound of the girls giggling as stitches plays through the speakers around the room. She doesn't want to hear that song, because if she listens to the lyrics she'll think of a certain redhead, which will lead her gaze to drift over to where she knows she's running through the choreography. Beca doesn't want to think about Chloe because then she'll think about the tight leggings and sports bra she's wearing and once that is drilling through her mind, she will want the real thing. She won't be able to keep her eyes away from the redhead across the room.

If she stares at Chloe in tight gym clothes whilst she's dancing to very sexual routines, then she'll be forced to admit – forced to acknowledge those feelings that she's buried so deep beneath the surface. So Beca fixes her gaze on a spot on her laptop screen, not allowing herself to drift her eyes upwards.

Chloe has always loved performing. The rush of adrenaline she receives from performing with the Bellas grows each time. The bigger the performance, the bigger the audience, meaning the bigger the adrenaline rush.

But she loves performing for people more than anything – for one person in particular – Chloe loves performing for Beca.

Dancing with Beca was hot – so fucking hot – and she loved how exhilarating it felt to allow her hands to explore the younger girl's body with so much passion and longing.

It was as if the connection between the two of them was finally being brought into the light, they were slowly beginning to accept it and Chloe truly thought this was Beca's way of communicating with her, telling her that she feels it too.

So Chloe decides to perform for Beca. She shakes her ass a little harder and runs her hands down her body for longer than usual (taking a page out of Stacie's book). Her smile present on her face throughout the entire routine and her excitement growing as the song was coming to a close.

Chloe looks up one final time with pure determination lighting up her face, she's smiling – her famous Chloe Beale smile that she knows Beca has always found irresistible. She's so sure, she's never been so sure about anything in her life. This is it. This is the moment where she's going to finally express everything she's kept bottled up for the past two years. She's going to tell Beca how she feels once and for all.

But when she looks up and her favourite pair of eyes don't meet her gaze, her stomach flips – not in the loving someone so much that their smile makes my heart flutter and butterflies erupt in my stomach kind of way but in the uneasy kind of feeling because she's hit with the realisation that Beca hasn't been watching at all.

She's been performing for Beca, building up the routine until she's finally ready to reveal her grand gesture. Only to find out that Beca wasn't watching her.

Beca wasn't watching her perform.

Her smile drops from her face and it feels like she's been slapped – slapped so far into reality that she finally realises that everything she thought she had with her best friend has been a figment of her imagination. She wanted Beca to look at her, to watch her – to love her – so badly that she's seeing what she wants to see. She thought Beca had returned those feelings. She was so sure. But now she knows – understands – that none of that had been real.

She just saw – felt – what she wanted to be true.

"Okay, that's it. Well done guys." Chloe says, clapping with a slight smile on her face when she calls the end of rehearsals. The smile was nothing more than fake – but she's going to have to get used to fake feelings so why not start now? She has to admit, she's proud of the Bellas and how far they've come. Aubrey appointing Beca as the captain is one of the best things she could have done, and Beca requesting Chloe to take the role as co-captain is also pretty great. Except for when Beca is in one of her 'distant and cold' moods and she won't let Chloe comfort her. Every time she gets pushed away by the brunette it breaks her heart a little. But she doesn't push her and she certainly doesn't pry so Chloe allows Beca to feel – or not feel – however she wants without questioning it.

"Hey, Chlo." Beca calls from where she's loading her laptop and mixing equipment into her laptop bag. Her co-captain spins on her heels and approaches her at the table. She's been friends with Beca long enough to know how Beca puts up her walls when she wants to hide her emotions, so if Beca can do it, she can too.

"What's up, Becs?" The redhead asks sweetly, twiddling her thumb ring whilst she waits for Beca to finish packing up her equipment.

"I won't be back at the house till later." The brunette says, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder and standing up from the chair she's occupied for the majority of rehearsal.

It's in Chloe's nature to be curious, especially when it comes to Beca, she wants to know everything about her – in a totally not possessive/psychotic way of course. She just wants to be the one person in Beca's life that knows her better than anyone else. She just wants Beca. And wants Beca to want her back just the same.

So that's why Chloe catches herself hesitating, she wants to ask why Beca has been so distant lately, why she's not returning her missed phone calls or why she's missed the last three Bellas movie nights. Chloe's missed having Beca next to her on the couch, where the brunette's feet would slowly edge towards Chloe's lap and the night would end with the two girls' bodies pressed closer together than when the movie started.

But deep down she knows it's this god forsaken unspoken connection the two shares. Beca is being distant because that's all she knows, and Chloe knows she should prod Beca until she finally stops running away, forcing her to talk. However, just knowing how much that would hurt them both stops Chloe's thoughts from adapting into real scenarios.

Not talking is just...safer.

It's safer because this way neither girl is hurting the other, but Chloe is still hurting. She's hurting so fucking much because Beca won't even look at her.

"Okay," Chloe retorts, her lips quirking upwards into a smile. Beca nods, not even bothering to look up at the redhead, which sends a punch to her gut.

It's too painful for Chloe to watch the younger girl walk away from her once more so she spins on her heels and exits the auditorium first, not waiting for Beca so the two of them can walk across campus together – another one of their unspoken understandings which happens after every single Bellas rehearsal.

- - - -

Also on wattpad: @writteninbechloe

[redspecialstardust]

Scandal - Oneshot (Freddie Mercury X Fem!Reader)

Requested by: @capan-devereaux

One month after the incident at the Rainbow Theater, you and now Freddie fall victim to bad press; there's gotta be a way to put these rumors to rest...

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: language, rumours, unwanted touching, attempted sexual assault (it doesn't go anywhere)

A/N: This fic is a sequel to Always Look After You; read it here. Can be read as OG Freddie or the BoRap version.

Freddie woke to himself facedown in the sheets of his king sized bed; the scent of the fresh bedding filled his nostrils, giving him sort of a gentle waking as he snuggled down into the mattress some more and forced his heavy eyes open to check the bedside clock which read 7:30 am. The time made him groan...for a party animal like himself, it was way too early for him to get up. The bed was warm, and so were the sunrise's rays on his back. You must have opened the curtains before he woke. but tired or not, he didn't want to sleep all day, knowing you two would barely get any alone time.

Choosing that there was no point sleeping in when he didn't have you next to him, the tired singer dragged his ass out of bed and threw on one of his many silk kimono robes. He let you know he was up by letting out a loud yawn on his way down the stairs. Just as he thought, you were sitting at the dining table with a newspaper one hand and a croissant in the other. Upon hearing your boyfriend's unsubtle yawn, you grabbed the coffee pot next to you and poured him a cup, preparing it just the way he liked it. Freddie entered the room still dazed from sleep but woke a bit more upon seeing you. Just like him, you were wearing a robe and had some pretty good bedhead going. The table had a couple of food trays with some eggs, croissants and fruit on them. He crossed the room and kissed the top of your head before sitting next to you.

"Good morning, Darling."

"Morning, Fred. How'd you sleep?"

"Like a drunken barfly, how about you?" He asked, placing some fruit on his plate.

"Eh. Same old same old." You responded. That could only mean that it wasn't very restful. Freddie always worried when you said that. This past month had been tough for you both, and the reason why was plastered all over the front page of the paper. Today's headline read: "Mercury & (L/N): Canoodling Cahoots?" Once again, the media was all over the Rainbow Theater incident and had been ever since that conference where your stalker had appeared at and made an enormous scene. To make things worse, Freddie was being dragged in on it too.

The same day of the conference, he released a photo of the injuries you received from trying to escape the perv's grip. It was a simple Polaroid taken an hour after the attack and displayed your arm with small, but deep scratches where you'd been grabbed. At first it seemed like you were in the clear, but as usual, people were looking for any way to create more gossip. Now all the papers were saying that you and Freddie staged the photo and he was just trying to cover for you since he was your boyfriend.

Oh yeah, and somehow news got out you two were dating. The stress seemed to be eating at you more than anyone a part of Queen. Over time Freddie noticed you were sleeping less and eating like a bird. Even with you being the first one up, he saw the fatigue on your complexion and ridiculously small amount of food on your plate; if you could even call it that...a croissant and a teacup of coffee? That wouldn't satisfy anybody.

"Dear, would you please put at least a couple of eggs on your plate? You're getting slimmer."

"What's wrong with slimming down?" You asked, not even looking up from the paper.

He was very frustrated lately. Sometimes he ended up saying things that were very insensitive.

"You know full well you don't need to lose weight. And for goodness' sake, why do you keep reading the papers? You know they aren't going to say anything nice. You're starting to look like a creature Edgar Allen Poe created!"

You threw the paper down on the table, frustrated that another fight about the headlines was starting up again. On and off for the past four weeks, you and Freddie were getting into heated arguments over what the hell you were supposed to do about the situation. You suggested moving a way for a bit, but Freddie said that would only be letting the gossip win.

"I know! I'm sorry! I just...I know they're saying bad things, but I can't ignore it. It's too much. Freddie, we were supposed to be happy together, not be harrassed by the paparazzi everytime we look at the TV or pick up the paper." By this point, your head fell into your hands and the small sharp pains of forming tears were hurting your eyes.

Oscar and Romeo were under the table the whole time and came to their mama's rescue upon hearing the sniffles. One purred around your ankle while the other gently pawed at your bare foot. Through the watery view of your eyes, you reached down and picked up Oscar, holding him firmly to your chest. The orange tabby purred in response. Freddie sighed; damn it, he went too far again didn't he? The frontman got up from his seat and stood you up, facing him with his gentle brown eyes locked onto yours.

"Come on." You snuggled into his side as his arm locked around your side and led you to the couch in the sitting room. Before even reaching the luxurious couch in front of the TV, you found him sweeping you up into his arms and carrying your frame bridal style. With the utmost care he placed you down on the sofa and sat down nearby, placing your head in his lap. Still sniffling, you looked up at him, muttering a thank you.

"Darling, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean those things, really I didn't. But I'm getting very worried about you. All the stress of these wrongful allegations are eating away at every level of health."

"I'm sorry too, Freddie." Breaking eye contact with him and staring ahead at the power off television screen across the room.

"For what?" He questioned, truly puzzled but his tone remaining calm.

"I've been so selfish. This whole time, I've done nothing but worry about what everyone's saying about me and I didn't stop to think about how hard this had been for you and the band or their families. I mean, maybe I am a selfish bitch like the papers are saying..."

There was a frightening silence between you for like ten seconds. At first it seemed like he silently agreed with you, but without warning, he quickly sat you up, making you gasp a bit and then pulled you onto his lap in a sitting position. The movement had been so swift, you were looking into his eyes for 3 seconds before it clicked what happened.

"Look at me." He firmly commanded. "Are you even hearing yourself? You're letting them get to you. This was not your fault. It never was. Yes, the reporters are saying awful things about me and the boys too, but we can handle it; plus, we know that what you went through was terrifying and we don't blame you for pondering on it so much. (Y/N), we love you...I love you, and we'll get through this, okay?"

You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged as tightly as possible without strangling him.

"Thank you Freddie. I love you so much."

He kissed your lips this time and suggested that you both just relax for now and watch TV today. Everyone needed a break during a time like this with the rumors practically suffocating Queen while they were trying to work so it seemed like keeping all the prejudice fans waiting for the next album was sufficient punishment for now. Feeling much better you crawled off of Freddie's lap and cuddled against his side, giving him permission to flick the television on. Channel after channel it seemed like there wasn't anything that good on so he handed you to remote to keep clicking while he checked the TV guide. After only two clicks, you paused on the news, displaying yet another distressing headline:

"(Y/N) (L/N): Malice For Mercury?"

This was the worst one yet. The TV displayed a live report, with a journalist standing right outside Garden Lodge's gate, this time the theories had resorted to desperate measures saying that the only reason you claimed this man put his hands on you was to get attention from Freddie and that you were trying to ruin his career for him cheating on you. Cheating on you? Freddie hadn't left your side since you started dating last month. The news then showed video of Freddie walking home with his arm around some mystery woman that nobody recognized.

"BOLLOCKS!" Freddie hollered while jumping to his feet. Normally he would have kept his cool about something like this, but this so called mystery woman on the screen was his little sister, Kashmira. She came by every weekend to have dinner with Freddie and you; it was a very nice time to look forward to and the fact that they were using his sister's face as some shady floozy pissed both of you off beyond belief. Granted, the press didn't know much about Freddie's family because he liked to keep his family life private, but this was a new low. Sensing Freddie's rage beginning to boil, you turned off the TV and had took him gently by the arms.

"Freddie, sweetheart, you're shaking. I need you to calm down."

He looked ready to explode.

"They--they're attacking my blood now!"

"I know! I know honey." You pulled him in for a hug and rubbed his back. "Just please calm down; I don't want your blood getting up more over this, too." He wrapped his arms around you accepting the comfort you provided. You could feel his heart angrily pounding against his chest where the side of your face was resting.

They were really getting to him too and it broke your heart to see him upset because he had been trying his hardest to be strong for you and in between that it's like he forgot it was completely okay to be upset. No matter what either of you tried, you couldn't get away from the chaos of these made up stories. People swarmed you at the studio, they blindsided the guys at their houses, and just now, there were people hanging outside the gate, waiting to aggravate the victims of these rumors even more. By this point they had forced everyone in Queen to go into hiding, and all for ratings.

All day long, you and Freddie spent your time checking all the doors and windows in paranoia; the constant chatter of reporters and the innumerable amount of flashing cameras was extremely distressing, causing you two to finally head upstairs and stay there for the rest of the day and into the night. Things seemed to settle around midnight, and left you and Freddie lounging on the bed together finally getting some quiet time. Lying on your sides, heads resting in your hands, you found it so much easier to talk about all this crap in the peace of each other's space.

"What are we gonna do, Fred? It won't stop."

"It will darling, trust me. We just need to wait this out and they'll get bored."

"We can't just hide until it's over with, we're not living anymore."

He sighed. You were right, but he just didn't know what to do anymore to make it better.

"I wish I could just say what happened and have them believe us." He said. The sweet gesture made you reach your hand across the space between you and stroke his charcoal black hair. The texture was soft to the touch and very soothing under your fingers. Freddie adored the attention and pulled you into his chest where he held you tighter than a child would hold a stuffed animal and muttered into your hair.

"If only they knew that man's true nature. For goodness' sake, they saw it at the conference."

That's when a light went off over your head. An idea came with just that little statement. An idea on how you were going to get your lives back.

"Freddie, you're a genius."

Two days later, every television in England was broadcasting one of its most interesting stories yet: Freddie Mercury and his girlfriend were willing to invite the alleged attacker to Garden Lodge for afternoon tea in an attempt to patch things over and move on with your lives. The day the announcement was made, you and Freddie had braved going outside for the first time in a while and were being interviewed in the inside of a downtown theater. As usual, many questions were being thrown at the both of you about the situation.

"Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Will you be friends with this guy afterwards?"

"Who do you think will apologize first?"

The whole time the questions flew, Freddie protectively kept his hand on yours. He wanted you to know it was all going to be okay, and you knew it was too, since your plan was bound to work if this guy was really as sick as he let on that night. Once in a while when responding to questions you two found yourselves glancing at one another to confirm whether your responses or not would be adequate. Freddie said that the change of heart came from the fatigue of feeling the need to hide and that a friendship with the man was uncertain. As for who would apologize first, it took some pride swallowing, but you managed to push out "I will."

Hours later, countless reporters were once again camped outside the mansion and kept every camera rolling for this groundbreaking story. Your pervert arrived on the dot for tea and used the doorbell on the door's exterior. The bell's ringing echoed through the manor and made you shiver at the idea of him being right outside. This same guy who left scratches on your arm was about to walk into yours and Freddie's home.

"Just breathe, Darling; your plan is gonna work."

"It better." You sighed.

Opening the door, you caught sight of his eyes. They seemed friendly enough, but nevertheless had this darkness lurking behind them.

"Derek, hi! Come on in."

"Thanks." He said, still seeming kind.

You and Freddie shook his hand and led him into one of the nicer sunlit rooms that normally wasn't used for tea unless you were having a guest. Compared to the rest of the rooms, it was a moderate, even small size. In the center of the room sat a coffee table decked with all the proper items to have at tea. A delicate white teapot painted in yellow and white with matching cups were placed properly there along with classic tea cakes and finger sandwiches. Either side of the table ends had a small couch pushed closely enough for anyone to reach over and grab what they needed off the table while sitting. Freddie shared one of the couches with you while Derek sat on the other. It only took staring at him again for a moment before you realized your breathing was becoming a bit laboured from your nerves causing a faster pulse; this was happening? This trash was in the house? But, still trying to be a gracious host, you picked up the pot and began to pour a cup for all three of you. Watching the steam rise from the cup made you wanna remove the lid and splash the hot drink into his face, but it wasn't part of the plan, so best keep it under control. After pouring your cup and sitting beside Freddie once again, he thanked you and everyone began to add what they wanted to the cups: sugar, cream, lemon etc. All three finished at the same time and raised their cups in a cheers like fashion.

"To a fresh start." Freddie grinned.

"To a fresh start." You repeated, trying not to sounding nervous. Derek copied and you sipped in unison. For a few very uncomfortable minutes nobody said anything while enjoying the tea and snacks; you all knew nobody wanted him here, and the tension in this Mexican stalemate caused you to move in and say what you had to.

"Derek, um, I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have attacked you like that; it was wrong to do something so awful to a fan of ours."

Ugh. That one hurt your pride.

"Thank you for that." Derek answered.

Freddie scooter close to you, placing his hand gently on your knee.

"I apologize too Derek. I shouldn't have used you as a punching bag. You see, when I thought that you had put your hands on her, it infuriated me and I was just trying to protect her. I'm sure you would have done the same for someone you care about."

"Well I can't blame you for that." Derek responded, smiling, but offered no apology himself. That's okay, you really didn't expect one. He took another sip of the tea and carefully placed it down. Something was definitely turning in his mind and none of it looked good.

"I'll accept your apology on one condtion: I want a quarter of a million dollars. It's the least you could do for compensation." The absolute balls! He knew none of this would be even happening if he didn't put his hands on you and now he wants a reward for getting his ass kicked? No, no way, you didn't care what happened after this, he wasn't getting a cent off either of you, but this could still work with what you had in mind.

You scoffed, jumping to your feet "I don't think so. We're trying to put this all behind us and then you come and pull this crap asking for money after leaving scratches on me and making our lives miserable? No! No you're not getting any money!"

Derek's face returned to that same vindictive grimace he had when he tried to throw himself at you, and it scared you to death. As he stood up too, Freddie instantly moved to protect you by standing as well and moving you behind him. He wasn't about to let someone punk him in his own house, no way! He didn't take bull.

"Fine. Don't gimme the money, I'll just go out and tell the reporters how much I tried to be friends and now the great Freddie Mercury and his slut are tightfisted with the compensation. You think your lives are bad now? Wait till the news gets ahold of this."

Freddie nearly lunged to attack, but you grabbed his shoulder, holding him back.

"Freddie, no! This isn't worth it. Just give him the money."

"But he--"

"Freddie please! I want our lives back."

It took a minute, but after looking between you and Derek, Freddie saw the fear in your eyes and it broke his heart. You shouldn't have to live in fear this way and he barely deserved you as it is. What the hell, money wasn't nearly as valuable as you. With a moment of his pride swallowed, he said he'd have to go all the way upstairs into the bedroom to get the checkbook. As he disappeared from the room, you gave Derek a bad staredown.

"So what's a perv like you gonna do with all that money?"

He shrugged. "Maybe buy you for the night." Rolling your eyes in disgust you let him know that was never gonna happen because he was an immature child; a man who threw a fit because he wasn't getting what he wanted, and then that's what set it off. He crossed the room getting right in your face.

"Fight all you want baby, I like it when they think they can get rid of me. I should left more than a few scratches on you; had it been just you and me, I would have treated you no differently than the floozies I pick up every Thursday." He grabbed both of your arms again, no not again! As soon as you hit the furniture, he pinned your arms down, to the sides and forced his lips onto yours. You tried to turn your head and struggle hard but he was so strong.

"Get off me!"

"Scream, and I'll kill Mr. Mustache. One way or another, I'm getting what I came for." He began to unzip your jacket but before anything else could happen, a gold flashy force knocked him off you and held him to the carpet. It was Queen's drummer Roger; he'd been hiding in a nearby closet, listening to everything so he could spring into action if anything went too far.

"Stay down, rapist! Did you get that, Deaky?"

To Derek's surprise, John Deacon the bassist popped out from behind a large potted tree in the corner of the room with a large camera in his grip. He signaled a yes, letting you all know they got everything they needed. Video was really all they needed to convict him, but to rub it in his face even more, you reached down your shirt and pulled out a wire, letting him know your bra had been bugged. That's right, you and the boys took two days planning this to catch Derek in the act and it worked perfectly. Almost on cue, Brian and Freddie escorted a group of officers into the room demanding they remove the root of all your problems.

The next day everyone in the band attended yet another conference to discuss everything and it was amazing; all the reporters who'd wrongfully accused you were now practically kissing your ass. There was nothing more satisfying than feeling this huge weight off your shoulders and the whole truth coming to light. Everyone in Queen received a formal apology from everybody and to even let you all know that Derek wasn't going to be even eligible for parole until he was 82. It's ok. By that time, every inmate would make him their girlfriend; no way he'd survive that.

"Freddie, with Derek finally behind bars and the your lives returning to normal, what's the first thing you're gonna do?"

Brian, Roger and John said they were just going to enjoy the peace with their wives an kids for now. They earned it after all, didn't they? As for Freddie, he took you in his arms, dipped your body, and left an enormous kiss on your lips. Upon standing you back in place, he said.

"I'm going to take the love of my life to Munich for a while. As happy as we are that everything is going back to normal, we haven't been able to just relax and laugh with each other since we started dating. Don't worry, the album will still be done on time. But for now, I just want it to be me and her. I love you with all my heart (Y/N) (L/N)."

"I love you too Freddie Mercury. Thank you so much for being there."

"I'll always look after you."

THE END

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