And They Were Roommates

And they were roommates

A/N - sorry @casafrass , I accidentally deleted your request but here we are, a classic bed sharing fic. (Btw sorry if there isn’t a read more link, tumblr being weird atm. I know having to scroll past really long posts is annoying whoop)

Warnings - swearing, angst, fluff, cliche

Word count - 4K (longest one yet ahh)

Pairing - Joe!John Deacon x f!reader

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It was just one of those days. It was a day where everything little thing had gone wrong. Y/N had slept through her alarm, lost her hairbrush, her makeup hadn't come out right, the snow had soaked through her shoes, arrived at the airport late, almost missed her flight, was seated next to a mother and crying child, and the turbulence had felt like the plane was going to go down.

She was at the point where the smallest thing, even something like the strap of her handbag falling off her shoulder, would've caused tears to fill her eyes.

But, she was in America for a good reason - at least, that's what she kept telling herself. She's here to attend a joyous event where the only crying should be that of extreme glee for the two people standing at the alter.

[[MORE]]

One of her best friends, Roger Taylor, was getting married to her other best friend. She knew she was going to be maid of honour before the bride to be had even asked and so, she had accepted with grin and anticipation for the big day.

But now? Now she was wishing the pair could've just gotten married back in London.

"Oh thank god, you're here!" Roger called out as he saw Y/N walk through the hotel doors, snow in her hair, luggage in her hands, and a grimace on her face. The porter took her suitcase and bags from her and, once she was free from the burden of travelling with a 'just in case' attitude, Roger brought her into a hug.

"Christ, your coat's soaked through," he commented as her clothes sent a shiver down his spine. "You must be freezing."

"You have no idea," she told him. "The snow's up to my knees now. Why the hell did you have to have a winter wedding? Why couldn't you have gotten married in the spring like everyone else."

He smiled teasingly at your obviously horrid mood.

"Well, where's the fun in that?" He grinned. "Here, take my jacket." He took off his fur coat and, after Y/N had peeled off her own, wrapped it around her. It immediately sent warmth running up and down her body and Roger could practically hear the 'thank you' in her closed eyes and soft smile.

"And how's the fiancée?" Y/N asked. Roger's smile fell.

"Ah, well, a little stressed to be completely honest with you," he admitted. "Your's was the last flight to land here. The snow's gotten so bad that nothing else is taking off or landing."

"Shit," she said in response. "Are most of the guests here?"

"Well yes, but unfortunately that causes a whole other problem," Roger explained. "With all the people stranded in the airport and such a big party taking up rooms in the hotel, some people are going to have to double up."

This was it. This was the small thing that was going to make her cry. She shook her head, eyes to the sky, and tried to hold back.

"Well that's great," she huffed. "Please tell me I've got a decent roommate." Roger shrugged.

"The hotel's done it randomly to make things easier," he told her. "Thankfully, me and the future wife got a room together so we're all good."

"So I've most likely got a random tourist to cosy up with?" Y/N sighed, rubbing her eyes with exhaustion.

"You might get a fellow guest?" Roger tried to offer some comfort. "What room are you in? I might know who's with you." Y/N doubted her luck would be that good after such a dismal day.

"Room 46," she said, no hope evident in her voice. Roger's eyes widened. "What?"

"Nothing," He assured her, though he sounded like a child who had just been caught stealing a biscuit.

"Roger," she said sternly. He sighed, his wide eyes closing.

"I don't want to say," he said.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want you to hit me."

But Y/N knew who it was. She could see the answer in Roger's apprehensive stance. She could tell from the way he almost coward away from her.

Her roomie was John Deacon.

She walked right passed Roger, her shoulder accidentally hitting his as she stormed off towards the lift that would take her to the room of her nightmares.

If there was a stairway to heaven, then this was definitely her elevator to hell.

When she opened the door to room 46, Mr Deacon himself was sitting on the bed, his back to the door, facing the window. He turned at the sound of the door slamming.

"No," he said upon seeing Y/N, her hair still soaked in snow and dawning Roger's fur coat. "No fucking way, there no chance-"

"Yeah, think like that for about five minutes and you'll be where I am right now," she huffed.

John's face fell into his hands.

The pair hadn't always hated each other. In fact, there had been a time, right after Roger had introduced the two of them, where most people would've bet good money that they would start dating. However, things, as they do often do, didn't go to plan.

Conversation had turned to bickering, bickering had turned into arguments, and eventually, the two couldn't even be in the same room without screaming at each other over seemingly the smallest things. As she looked at John now, she couldn't help but recall the time she had dropped an ice cube in his kitchen, which he then accidentally stepped in with socks on. She thought she might have gone deaf with the screaming match that had led to.

Y/N didn't even know how their friendship had disintegrated. It had been like someone had flipped a switch in their minds. Her love for the boy had turned into our hatred and she knew he felt the same.

"Is there no way we can switch with someone?" John asked, his voice almost pleading. Y/N wanted to think that was a possibility but she knew the hotel staff would be too busy to sort something out and all the guests would be far to exhausted to move any belongings to a different room.

"I don't think there's enough money in the world to convince someone to share with you," she told him. He rolled his eyes.

"Good one," he said sarcastically. "And people wonder why I don't like you."

"Oh please," she said, "enlighten me." He looked at her with red burning through the brown of his eyes.

"Well it's not exactly going to be because of your winning personality, is it?" He said through gritted teeth.

"Oh just shut it," Y/N huffed, throwing off Roger's coat and hanging it up. "Look, all we have to do is spend one night in the same room. Assuming the blizzard doesn't snow us in, we'll be out by tomorrow and then all we have to do is get to the wedding without killing each other or ourselves."

"Fine," He said. "You can just stay on your side of the room and I'll stay on mine."

"Fine." Y/N went to set her things down on her bed but the sight before her instead acting as the breaking point.

She started to cry.

"Fuck!" She shouted. "Fuck everything! Fuck the wedding, fuck the hotel, fuck mother-fucking-nature!"

"What? What is it?" John demanded, jumping to his feet, the ghost of actual concern on his face.

"Fucking look around, you idiot!" She shouted. John did a 360' of the room and quickly saw what had pushed Y/N over the edge.

"You've got to be kidding," he said, his head returning to his hands. "You've got to be fucking kidding!"

Yep, that's right. There was only one bed.

"Right, I get that it's shitty but there no need to cry over it," John told her.

If looks could kill, John Deacon would have been decapitated in that moment.

He actually took a step backwards. That's how much Y/N glared at him.

"It doesn't matter anyway," John continued, his voice however, considerably softer. "You take the bed, they've probably got some extra blankets at the front desk."

The glare smashed like a dropped wine glass.

"Where are you gonna sleep?" She asked him, confused by this sudden act of generosity of John's part. He shrugged.

"I'll be fine on the floor," he told her.

How was this the same man from a minute before? The John she knew would fight her to the death for the better seat on a couch, never mind a bed to sleep in.

"You can't sleep on the floor," she said.

"You got a better idea?"

Y/N couldn't believe she was even considering this. She looked at the bed and then back at John.

"I mean, it is a double bed," she said. "It's not like we wouldn't be able to both fit on it?"

John seemed to be going through the same motion that she had when he had offered to sleep on the floor.

"What? You mean share it?" He asked. She nodded, though it felt like a helium balloon had been tied to her head to try and stop it from shaking up and down. "I mean, I guess."

She sighed. She had been secretly hoping he wouldn't take her up on her offer.

"Sure," He said more confidently. "I really didn't want to sleep on the floor." Y/N's brows furrowed.

"Then why did you offer?" John shrugged.

"Right thing to do, I suppose."

Y/N nodded, though she wasn't quite sure how she felt about the whole situation. However, her exhaustion outweighed her confusion and mixed emotions. She clapped her hands together.

"Right then," she said. "I'm gonna go get changed into my pyjamas. I'll be back in a sec."

She brought her bag with her into the small bathroom and set it down on the counter so she could look through it.

"No," she muttered to herself. There was no way she could be so stupid as to leave all but one pair of pyjamas in her bedroom back in London. "Shit shit shit shit shit."

She held up the only pair she had brought.

Every girl has a special outfit that she wears to make herself feel better. Or perhaps it was a pretty bra or a particularly lacy thong that managed to be as comfortable as it was lovely. For Y/N, she had a pair of pyjamas. They were her 'I'm sexy and I know it' pyjamas.

They were comprised of shorts that were basically pants, and a top that was basically a bra. The fabric was a thin satin with lace around the hems and to top it all off, they were pink.

She looked at herself in the mirror. These were pyjamas only a girl and her partner should see. Not a girl and her old frenemy.

However, it was all she had.

She stepped out of the bathroom to find John standing in a baggy shirt, his thick pyjama bottoms hidden breath the covers of the bed. He did a double take when he saw her.

"Sorry," she said before he could comment. "I didn't think I'd be sharing a bed with someone so this is all I have."

John shook his head.

"No, it's..." he shook his head as if to clear it. "It's fine."

Although Y/N was extremely embarrassed by the whole situation, she did find a little amusement in the redness of John's cheeks as she climbed into bed next to him.

John turned off the lamp by his side of the bed and the two were plunged into darkness. They both made sure to stay as far away from each other as possible, John almost fell of the bed at one point.

Although it would've been difficult for him to fall asleep regardless, what made things far more difficult was something that he couldn't help but notice.

Y/N was shaking almost uncontrollably. He could tell she was trying to hold back her movement but to unfortunately no avail. As he looked at her more closely, he saw goosebumps all over her skin.

And then her teeth began to chatter.

"Fucking hell," John muttered to himself, causing the still conscious Y/N to open her eyes.

"What?" She asked, a scowl becoming evident on her face.

"Can't you keep still?" He asked her, propping himself up on his elbow. "It's pretty tricky to sleep with you shivering like that."

"It's not like you can control shivering," she spat back.

"But I can't sleep with you moving," he complained. She too propped herself up and looked at him with an exasperated expression.

"What d'you want me to do about it?" She demanded. "In case you haven't noticed, it's fucking freezing and these pyjamas aren't exactly helping."

"It's not my fault you were stupid enough to leave all your others at home," he muttered to himself.

"Oh my god!" Y/N groaned. "Just shut up. I don't want to hear your complaining or your nitpicking, or your judging! I'm sick of it, John!" She sat up fully and sighed into her hands. "I can't do this."

She swung her legs off the bed and grabbed her pillow.

"What are you doing?" John asked.

"Well I can't sleep on this bed with you, can I?" She said. "Can't have me ruining your beauty sleep, can we? God forbid I'm a little cold."

He watched as she set her pillow down on the floor and laid her head down on it. She then closed her eyes and pretended to fall asleep. John would've let her stay down there had it not been for the guilt in his chest as he heard her teeth chattering even louder than before. He peered over the edge of the bed and saw her shivering so much that the friction against the carpet could've lit a small fire.

"You can't sleep on the floor," John finally said.

"Yes I can."

"You're freezing," he pointed out. "Just come back to the bed and get under the covers."

"But then you'll be distracted by my shivering," she said. "I know how annoying this must be for you." John actually had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from snapping back. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down.

"Look," He said. "Just come back into the bed." She opened one eye and saw him looking down at her.

"Say please," she told him. John could feel his face getting hotter.

"Please," He said through gritted teeth. She smirked, finally having won a small battle. As promised, she climbed back under the covers, feeling as smug as was possible in this temperature.

But the smugness quickly froze on her face and fell like an icicle from a gutter.

"John," she said, her voice quiet. John opened his eyes and stared at the back of her head.

"What is it now?"

She took a deep breath. "Please know I'm only saying this because I'm just that fucking cold," she told him. John raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "I'm just thinking that maybe if we were a bit closer, our body heat would warm us both up a little."

"Oh," John faltered. "Right - um - I suppose that makes sense." Y/N could feel the mattress move and he shifted closer to her. "Um... you mean like this?" He was lying behind her, his chest a few inches from her back.

"Um, not exactly," she said. "I kind of meant like..." she screwed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. "Like spooning."

If John had been drinking, he would've spat it out.

"Spooning?"

"Yeah. I know you've probably never had the opportunity to do it before but-"

"Oh shut up," he said. But for some reason, this time her teasing remark made him smile. He quickly replaced the smile with a scowl just in case she turned around.

"Well?" She asked. John sighed. He was really cold as well, though he was better at hiding it.

"Fine," He said, wrapping an arm around her. They both immediately felt the warmth of the other. John couldn't help but notice how much bare skin he was touching.

"Thanks," she muttered, silently hoping he hadn't heard her.

"No problem."

Before the pair had grown to hate each other, they had spent countless nights in the same position. No, they never dated technically, but it would be impossible to count the amount of nights they decided it was too late to go home and so, decided to stay over at the other's house.

Y/N's mind immediately went to the last time they had done it. Of course, at the time she hadn't known it she wouldn't be held by John for years to come. She wished she had cherished those nights more. And she hoped John felt the same.

It was so comfortable. It felt as though the pair had never fallen out. Y/N supposed if they hadn't, this might've been their wedding instead of Roger's.

"Y/N," John whispered. "Is everything alright?"

She quickly wiped the tear that had slipped from her eyes and onto the arm that had been placed beneath her head in a way that John found far too familiar.

She shook her head in response to his question.

John couldn't help but feel complete concern. Years of arguments seemed to slip his mind as her turned her around to face him. She was hiding her face behind her hands, sobs now accompanying the tears.

"Sorry," she choked out.

"No, don't be sorry," John told her as he wrapped her up in his arms. "It's ok, you're ok." He wasn't quite sure what to do. "Tell me, what's the matter?"

She pulled back from him slightly so she could look at him. His brows were furrowed and his eyes read nothing but concern.

The words that followed broke John's heart.

"Why do you hate me?"

He had no idea what to say.

"Because it wasn't me who started all this, John," she continued. "It was you. You started getting annoyed at every little thing and I didn't know what to do so I just shouted back."

"I... I don't know-"

"Yes you do," she said, not taking any lies. "You've got a reason, you just won't tell me." John looked down.

"Well, what's your reason?" He asked her. She rolled her teary eyes.

"My reason?" She asked. "John, I hate you because you hate me."

He completely broke.

He hid his face in his hands and he just sobbed. Y/N was shocked. She had never seen John cry. In all the years she had known him, he had never shed as much as a tear. So she stared at him with wide teary eyes.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I'm so fucking sorry." Now Y/N was the one who was lost for words.

"What are you sorry about?" She asked, unsure what else to say.

"I made you believe I hate you," he explained. "I don't. I could never."

He didn't hate her. Y/N could feel herself tearing up again.

"Then why did you-"

"I was scared," he told her. "Everyone was telling me I should ask you out but you were always going on dates with other guys and I- I couldn't take it. I was in love with you but you didn't love me back. At least, not in that way."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. John Deacon has been in love with her?

"And I could never tell you how I felt because i knew the feeling wasn't mutual," he continued. "So I started pushing you away like an idiot. Everything kept escalating and suddenly it I had gone too far. There was no getting our friendship back so I just kept going. I never wanted to shout at you and I was never really angry. I was just sad and pathetic and I'm so fucking sorry."

Y/N sat up, breaking free from John's arms. She stared ahead of her, looking out of the window to come face to face with the blizzard that had trapped her here.

John rose to a sitting position extremely hesitantly. It was as if he was worried any fast movements would send her running. But John didn't look out of the window. He didn't focus on the snowfall as Y/N did. Instead, he looked at her. The warm, faint light from the bathroom made her profile look golden. To John, it was like she was glowing. And he? He was in her shadow, dark and ashamed.

"Is it a joke?" She finally whispered.

John's mouth opened. Did she really think he was trying to play a trick or embarrass her? He had just poured his heart out in front of her. Despite that, he just said,

"No."

She still didn't look at him, but she seemed less tense as he said what he said.

"And," she said, "you said that you loved me."

"Yes."

"Loved. As in... past tense?"

Deciding to commit fully to his confession, John brought his hand up to her cheek. His fingertips were barely touching her, but they managed to pull her stare from the window and to him.

"No."

Y/N let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in. It came out all shuddery and delicate. "And you promise you're not just trying to make me look like an idiot?" She asked.

"Y/N, look at me," he told her. He was centimetres from her face, he needed to get the message across.  But now that he was staring right at her, he could feel his face heating up. "I love you."

"I..." Y/N looked like the words were stuck in her throat. But even just the first syllable made John's heart soar. She felt the same, she was going to tell him! Years of arguments were about to all be swept under the rug.

"I need some sleep."

She took his wrist and gently pulled his hand away from her face.

"What?"

"I just need some time to process all this," she explained.

"What's to process? I just told you how I felt," John said back, clearly frustrated.

"John, we've not been friends for years," she said. "And you're expecting me to forget every argument just like that? What, did you think we were just gonna sweep everything under the rug?"

John knew her cheeks were red. He felt so fucking stupid, so silly. He shook his head.

"You're right," he said. "Sorry. I'll let you sleep on it and everything. I know you're tired."

She nodded and lay back down, facing away from John.

He wasn't taking that as a good sign. But there was nothing more to be said so he just lay down behind her, feeling lighter than he had a few minutes ago.

"Deaky?" He heard her whisper after a few moments of silence. His heart lurched.

"Yes?"

"I'm still cold."

John smiled. He smiled so warmly that it alone could've heated up the girl in the silky jammies.

He wrapped an arm around her and, in no time, they were both asleep.

(Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please reblog and give me some feedback! (Or just reblog))

honestly if someone tenderly cradled my face i think at this point i would probably blackout

Whole Again (John Deacon x Reader)

Note: This was my piece for A Night At The Fandom for the lovely @supersonicfreddie​!!! I’m sorry it took longer than expected. I had a lot of fun writing it, and I really hope you enjoy it!! <3 (I personally imagine real Queen, but I love this gif of Joe and Rami soooo much) Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: None

You loved John Deacon.

There was not a single doubt in your mind that this was true. No matter what happened in your life, no matter who came and who went, he was the one constant. He was your best friend, your rock. He was one of those friends that you knew he’d be beside you until you died.

But sometimes… sometimes you wished you were a little more than just best friends.

You were lucky, though. John did almost everything with you. He invited you to watch the boys record, he brought you to every concert he could. But now he had stepped it up.

“Come with us to Ridge farms,” he said one day. “We’re recording our new album there. Should be a few weeks, think it’ll be fun. You know, with the animals and all. The boys are on board.”

Keep reading

Omg Brian! 😸

© @roger_darling_taylor on Instagram.

If I Needed Someone - Chapter 3

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Pairing: George Harrison x F! Reader

Fic Summary: Reader and George meet as kids soon after she moves to Liverpool with her parents. Told throughout pieces of their childhood together, we see their friendship grow and the consequences of waiting too long.

Chapter Summary: This chapter takes place over a couple of years after George and Reader have started at their respective schools. We see George’s love of rock-n-roll begin to take off.

Word count: ~2k

Rating: T

Warnings: None, just fluff

Notes: As usual, if you can please let me know what you think! And also let me know if you’d like to be tagged! I’ll be real with y’all, I barely research anything besides dates don’t @ me. 

It didn’t take you very long to realize you were being slightly dramatic in the first term at your new school. In the weeks and months following, you had made new acquaintances and friends in your classes, and you never reached the point of “missing” your best friend. 

You didn’t necessarily have the same friendship with them as you did with George, they remained your school-friends and that was it, but you were happy with that. 

Keep reading

Find Me Somebody To Love (Joe Mazzello! John Deacon Imagine) Ch. 1

summary: John has been down a bit lately, due to his break up about a month before. This didn’t go unnoticed by the fans, let alone paparazzi. They took every chance they got to photograph him. “John Deacon: Dinner for One?” and many other headlines became the talk of Hollywood. So what does management do? Get him a girlfriend. And who might they choose? Well, you of course. Roger Taylor’s beloved baby sister.

warnings: cursing

word count: 1,018

a/n: probably two to three parts.

————————

“For fucks sake!” Roger yelled. “Another bloody article. Why do they care so much? Big whoop, you got dumbed after two years. Can they get off your ass already?”

“Don’t you think they would’ve if they wanted to? It’s been a month. How fast do they expect me to move on?” John grumbled.

“Aw Deaks,” you cooed. “Want me to beat them up for you?”

You wrapped your arms playfully around John’s neck and looked down to lock eyes with him.

Roger scoffed.

“A strong breeze could knock you down,” he teased.

“Wanna bet?”

“Alright fine. Bring it on shortie,” Roger laughed.

Roger pretended to get in a fighting stance, but you went straight to the tackle. He pushed back, laughing. He bent down and picked you up by the legs, tossing you over his shoulder, then slammed you onto the couch. He hovered above you, one arm leaning on the back of the couch, the other on the arm rest. You scowled at him, and blew air directly into his face. He scrunched up his nose and wafted it away.

“What was that for?”

“A strong wind.”

John smiled at the two of you. It was always something new when you and Roger were together.

You started coming around more after management begged you to. The first time you visited, you walked into a scream fest and Roger throwing things around.

“Roger Taylor I swear to God if you don’t put that down I will shove it so far up your ass you won’t walk for days,” you seethed.

Four heads snapped towards the door, shocked at what they heard. And who were you? Some girl Roger hooked up with that suddenly felt she was entitled?

Roger dropped what he was doing and marched straight over to you, towering you with his closeness.

“I’d like to see you try,” he said. You broke out into a shit-eating grin and wrapped your arms around his neck. He relaxed into your embrace, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

“Well lucky for you I’m going to the college now. So you’ll be getting sick of me,” you said.

“Thank you God for this angel from above,” Freddie shouted, arms straight in the air as he looked up.

Brian laughed and came over to hug you.

“Long time, Y/N,” he smiled.

“Wait how do you two know her?” John asked.

“Oh right,” Roger said. “Deaky, Freddie, this is my little sister Y/N.”

You stayed there on the couch while John and Roger worked on a base idea for a song. You were halfway asleep, when you were awoken by the studio doors flying open.

“Perfect!” Miami shouted. “Just the people I wanted to see.”

He slammed down a plethora of news papers and magazines, all with various headlines about John’s relationship status in big, bright letters.

“We know Miami,” Roger said.

“I can’t help it. I don’t know what you want me to do,” John sighed.

“We’re going to get you a girlfriend,” Miami said.

“What?” John shouted. “No, you can’t force a relationship like that!”

“Oh calm down. It won’t be a real one. Just one to get the paps off your back. They’ll take notice, put in a few more about the new relationship, and move on. They like drama. Not happiness.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No. You’re getting a girlfriend. We’ve got her picked out, we just need her permission. She’s already in the spotlight, she’s seen how paparazzi can be, and you know her, so relax.”

“Well then who is she?” John asked.

Miami looked over to you on the couch. You looked back, very confused.

Roger caught on before you did, angrily looking back and forth between you and Miami.

“No. Absolutely not. That will not be happening,” Roger stated.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“Y/N we need you to be John’s fake girlfriend,” Miami explained.

Your eyes went wide.

“No! We aren’t using my baby sister like that!”

“Roger, think about it. A lot of people already know her, she’s been seen with the band and has been photographed, she’s even been stopped by paps by herself. There’s nothing against her, and she gets along with John!”

“Rog it’s fine,” you assured. “I’ll only do it if John is completely okay with it.”

“I am not completely okay with it!” Roger butted in.

“Alright. I’d rather it be her than some rando,” John agreed.

“John Richard Deacon you take that back of your ass will be going through my bass drum,” Roger threatened, stepping closer to him. You grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

“No,” you scolded. “This isn’t about you. This isn’t a real relationship. This isn’t him asking for your blessing to marry me. This is a fake. Relationship. You hate the articles just as much, so why don’t you let me help them stop?”

Roger looked down at you, clearly still displeased with the situation.

“Fine,” he stomped out.

“Wonderful,” Miami said. “Now we need to go over the ground rules.”

“What type of ground rules?” John asked. You both took a seat at the table.

“How long it’ll last, what we do if either of you find a real relationship, that sort of thing.”

The three of you discussed for a couple hours about all the details.

The relationship would last about three months, and all outings would slowly fizzle out. You were with the band all the time anyways, so you figured it’d be hard to tell when you stopped going on “dates”. You both agreed to hand holding, his hand around your waist, hugs, and small kisses. But no absurd PDA. You two would have to go out on a couple dates, particularly in the beginning. Then, ease them up and eventually stop. If a relationship for either one of you forms while this is going on, you pass it off that you broke up but are still friends.

“Deal?” Miami asked.

“Sounds good to me,” you said.

“Deal,” John replied.