#deaky x reader

You’d been staring now, you’d known it. Your textbook laying open in front of you, you come to the conclusion that there was no possible way you were going to get any actual studying done. Your thoughts were too preoccupied with John, whether he realized it or not. Resting your head in the palm of your hand, you lightly began to tap your pencil against your textbook, half hoping it would snap your attention back to where it should be, your work. 

Tearing your eyes from John, you brought your gaze back down to the same passage you’d been trying to read for a while. Letting out a sigh, you figured that giving it one last go couldn’t hurt anyone. Adjusting your sitting position, your eyes wandered over the familiar words, brain still trying to make sense of it, but not yet succeeding. 

“Y/N?” John’s voice was soft, it lingered in the air, a contrast to the former silent atmosphere. 

“Yeah, Deaks?” You looked up at him, and he was giving you a toothy grin. It nearly made your heart melt. He nodded at your hand, which was still absentmindedly tapping your pencil. 

Embarrassed, you stilled your movements. “Sorry.” you mumbled.  

John’s laugh caught your attention, he leaned forward against the table. “ S’alright, really. How’s it going anyway?” 

John nodded his head towards your textbook, and you found yourself sighing in exasperation. 

“That bad?” 

“I’m going to fail all of my exams, but at least when I get the results it won’t be a surprise” 

“I could help you, you know? If you’d like” John was leaning forward, hair beginning to fall into his face a bit. 

“You’ve got enough to worry about John, I don’t need you to have to fuss over me too” Chewing on your bottom lip, you tried not to think about the way he was looking at you. John had been your friend since you both began Uni, and you knew if he had any interest towards you at all he would have shown it by now. 

“Really, I don’t mind. I want to help you, if you’ll let me of course. You’re too stubborn for me to otherwise” Laughing at your expression, John shook his head trying and failing to contain his laughter. His hair bounced from side to side, nearly covering his entire face. 

“Oh, and I suppose you’re so much better?” you challenged. 

“Infinitely so, yes” He was teasing you, and you were only taking the bait. John was grinning widely now. His tongue poking out gently between his teeth, drawing you attention to the adorable gap between his teeth. 

“Fine then, ever so wonderful and intelligent John Deacon, would you be so kind as to help me?” You batted your eyes at him, causing John to softly knock his shoulder into yours. 

“Sarcasm is a wonderful look on you, love” John was biting his lip, eyes shining down on you. 

“You would know” you replied, relishing in the laughter that John gave off. 

“Alright then, where should we start?”  Lifting one of your textbooks, John began flipping through the pages, trying to best gauge where to start. 

For the next half hour John dutifully helped you go over the material. You had paid attention for the most part. If anything, he managed to make the material astoundingly more interesting than your Professor. But the cycle of being distracted by him had steadily increased once again. It was almost as if he was doing it on purpose, with the little lip bites, and the quirk of his brow. 

Steadily, his hair began to fall more and more into his face as he switched between looking at you and your textbook. Too into his explanation of the material he hardly batted an eye at the obtrusive hair falling directly into his line of sight. The need to push his hair back was strong, and you hadn’t even realized you had leaned forward until it was too late. 

Gently, you tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear. Lingerly slightly in your movements, you didn’t have a chance to admire your work before you noticed John had gone dead silent at your actions. Quickly leaning back, your cleared your throat. 

John was looking at you curiously, mouth slightly open as if he was trying to come up with the right words to say. 

“Sorry… your hair was in your face… thought I should move it so I could see you better.” you said lamely. 

“You wanted to...see my face better?” John repeated back to you. 

You felt your face burning in embarrassment, and you began to chew on your cheek trying to come up with a better excuse, but your mind was blank. 

“Yes?” you replied, though it sounded more like a question than an answer. 

John was just staring at you, lips tugging into a small smile. 

“Well….shit. I’m going to just go. I’m sorry John, really” You were speaking quickly, tumbling over yourself as you tried to collect your things. Faintly, you could hear John calling your name, but it was almost like a white noise to you. All you wanted to do was run away and burn this moment from your mind. 

Gently, John grabbed your wrist stilling your movements. “Would you stop for a moment and listen to me?” He let out a breathy laugh, trying to calm you down. 

“Why? So I can embarrass myself more? I mean, shit John, I ruined everything. We went years without you knowing how I...feel about you. And in a matter of seconds I’ve gone and ruined our entire friendship. ” 

“You didn’t ruin anything.” 

“But I did! How are we-” 

“Oh, you’re so stubborn.” John cupped your face in his hands, eyes crinkling at the sides in amusement. “You haven’t ruined a thing, love.” 

“I haven’t?” you questioned. Mouth finally clamping shut to listen to him. 

“No, I...probably should have said this years ago. Instead of, you know, pretending I wasn’t completely in love with you” He smiled at your reaction, wide eyes and gaping mouth. “Because I am in love with you.”

“You’re right, you should have said something sooner” you mumbled. You were impossibly close to each other now. Faces mere inches apart. John’s nose gently nudged yours, a smile gracing his face. 

“You could have said something sooner to you know.” he said, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“I’m too stubborn, remember?” you teased. Lips brushing together, you could feel him smiling against your lips. “Are you going to kiss me then John? Or should I-” 

John pressed his lips against yours. The feeling was soft and sweet, and reminiscent of John in all his tenderness. His fingers tangling in your hair, he pulled you in close. Kissing John was unlike anything you had ever felt before, it was right in more ways than one. John let out a low hum, as he pulled away, giving you a few pecks on the lips satisfied at the reaction he received from you. 

Licking his lips, John looked over at the textbooks on the table. “Should we get back to it then?” He was teasing, his hands were firmly on you, giving no inclination that he wanted to let go. 

“Oh, not a chance” you said, pulling him back down for another kiss. 

- - - - - - -

Days of Our Lives Documentary Shoot - 2010

(Brian May and Roger Taylor Joint Interview)

“The early 80s were huge for us, for sure. I believe we were at our biggest then, internationally speaking.” Brian states, glancing over to Roger.

“Yes, Another One Bites the Dust really set things a-flame I think. The traveling and playing were constant. The crowds getting bigger by the venue. Parties, hotels, girls, more parties. We were meeting just so many people.” Roger adds.

“And one of those being a certain American female rock singer.” The interviewer adds quietly from off-camera.

Roger glances over to him with a questioning look, but Brian catches on quick, like always.

“Ah yes, that particular rock goddess. We did meet her around then, I believe, yes. Maybe a few years after.” Brian says knowingly, still playing along.

Roger stares into space with a confused look on his face until the realization hits him. “Are we talking about Y/N?” Roger mutters to Brian. “Yes” Brian chuckles, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“Oh, what a spit-fire she is! Not back then though. Fred really worked some magic with that one. Almost inseparable those two were.” Roger laughs out, a wave of nostalgia washing over his face.

Brian raises his large eyebrows, “Deacy would beg to differ I think.”

Roger smirks, “Oh, well that’s a whole different story.”

- - - - - - -

1982 - MTV Studios, New York City

You run your hands up and down your thighs, trying to will your left knee to stop repeatedly bouncing up and down. The satin of your pants does nothing for the layer of sweat on your clammy hands. You fold them together in your lap and gaze around the studio instead, taking in the bustling of crew members as they ready for the pre-taped interview. The god-like VJ, Alan Hunter, sits in a chair off to the side as someone artfully pieces his blonde locks into place. He grins over at you with a small wave. You limply lift your hand in a greeting, pasting on a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

You catch your pained expression as you glimpse a monitor off-camera. A friendly woman backstage had painted your face to the point of being almost unrecognizable. Gone was the evidence under your eyes of the restless sleep you’d fought the previous night. They were wide and doed, rather than their normal crescent shape. Your lips full and vibrant, your hair bounced and fanned out around your face. And your skin seemed to be glowing, masking the spots that had popped up overnight from stress. You looked every bit the rock goddess the label hoped to paint you as, and the exact opposite of the nerves currently threatening to overtake your body.

“Y/N, I can feel you vibrating from here. Take a deep breath. It’s gonna be fine.” Rich commented from beside you. His legs were splayed out, his arms bent behind his head. Looking as relaxed as can be, as if he were on his couch at home catching a movie marathon, about to doze off.

“How can you be so calm right now?” You rush out. “Who knows how many people are going to see this interview. Do you know how many times a day I accidentally let the F word fly out of my mouth?”

Rich lets out a snort. “I happen to know exactly how much you curse, thank you. Yesterday you said fuck 3 times in one sentence. It was charming, my mom loved it.” He moves his right arm to squeeze around your shoulders. Usually, it would be a comforting display of friendship, but you shake it off.

“And look at those three. Already so at home, I see.” You nod to the three other members of the band. Steve is exuding energy like yourself, but it’s excitement that bubbles from him. His eyes flit around the room quickly as he taps out some unknown rhythm on his bent legs. A wide grin permanently fixed on his boyish features.

At the far end of the couch, Eddie and Lawrence are wrapped up in a not-so-silent game of knuckles.

“Son of a-- Will you take off those damn rings? It’s my turn and I’m still getting bruised.” Lawrence huffs. Eddie wiggles his long, skilled, silver-clad fingers in front of his face and raises his eyebrows. “It’s all about the look, baby. Gotta play the part of the guitar god.”

“Will you both knock it off.” You call over to them. “We need both those sets of hands in playing shape for tomorrow night.”

Eddie turns, probably to counter with some playful comment about how you mother them too much, but Alan approaches.

“Alright, guys. And girl.” He flashes his perfectly white teeth your way again. “We’re about 5 minutes out from going up. Anybody need anything? Water, vodka, beer…” He turns his gaze to Steve, who is still tapping lightly on his legs. “A Xanax, perhaps?”

“Waters all around would be great, thanks.” You offer. Alan nods to a twitchy PA waiting to his side and they hurry off.

“Oh wait up, a Bud Light too, if you have any!” Eddie calls after them. The other three boys echo the same as well.

“You can take the boys out of Long Island…” you mutter to yourself. Rich teasingly pokes your side. “And something stiff for the lady!” He shouts out.

“In all manner of ways” Steve giggles. You feign a shocked expression and reach over to place a gentle slap to the side of his head. He looks over with big apologetic eyes and you stifle a laugh.

In record time, the lanky PA rushes back over with a myriad of drinks, all threatening to topple over on the tray they were precariously balanced on. Another PA trails behind, handing you all water, which you’re in desperate need of. They hand the drinks out one by one and stop before you. “Your water, Miss. And I didn’t know what you liked so I have a jack and coke, a whiskey sour, and a gin and tonic.”

“The gin and tonic is great, thanks.” They hurriedly hand you the drink and go to turn away. “Love your hair by the way.” You tell them. “I’m absolute shit at styling mine. Guess I’ll have to learn now.” They smile back at you and run a hand through their short locks before disappearing amongst the rest of the crew.

“Okay, we’re ready to rock n’ roll!” Alan exclaims, getting the band’s attention as he sits down in a chair next to your side of the couch. “We’re going to start off with a few basics on the band. Your lower thirds will have your instruments labeled but feel free to explain how you guys started out, your influences, your process. I’ll prompt you in between and then we'll talk about the album and promote your upcoming tour towards the end. Should take 15 minutes tops, so keep your answers brief. But I won’t say no to any rowdy stories you want to throw in.” He finishes with a wink.

The band nods along as you gulp down a breath, your palms becoming even slicker. The stage manager’s high voice rings out around the studio. “Playback ready! Live to tape in 5.. 4...” Rich places a hand over your knee and gives a squeeze. “Light em’ up, Bun” he mutters in your ear.

“3.. 2..” She holds up a finger and then points it at Alan, a wide smile already set on his face. The camera light flicks red as the MTV open plays from speakers around the room. Alan beings as the song fades out.

“We’re here in the studio and boy, am I excited to get to know this next band. Over at MTV we’ve been watching the steady rise of their single “Heart of the Night” on the charts. And as an added surprise, they’re here to introduce their very first music video. I’m very pleased to welcome to the studio, Lo & The Limbs!”

You try to relax your face as a camera pans across the band and settles on a two-shot of you and Alan. You know your eyes are gleaming with anxiety so you glance down the couch, silently praying for one of the boys to take the lead.

“Thanks for having us Alan, it’s such a trip to be here.” Eddie says with ease, resting his forearms on his knees.

“So, I have to ask. Who is Lo? Is it you Lawerence?” Alan questions the piano player.

“Oh god, no.” Lawrence chuckles. “Our high school was affectionately called Lo High, for Long Island HighSchool of the Arts. So we sort of tacked that on while playing during those years to let people know where we were from. That and well, as you can see we’re all above 6 foot except for Y/N, so a lot of limbs going on here.”

Alan gives a short laugh. “You released your debut album, Quiet Lies, earlier this year to growing success. Why don’t you tell me how you all started out.”

“Well, the boys and I have been together for a few years. We’ve been friends since grade school and we always just used to jam about. As we got older we started playing local bars back on Long Island to mostly middle-aged crowds, trying to break in, but it wasn’t working. Then Rich had the idea to invite Y/N to join up and it’s all kind of all taken off from there.” Eddie explains.

“We needed a pretty face to balance out all these ugly mugs” Steve pipes up.

“It took a while for her to finally concede though. She was off being too studious for the likes of us.” Rich adds on with a smile and nudge to your side. Your eyes grow wide as you feel a question directed at you coming on.

“Is that true, Y/N?”

“I- I guess, I was at NYU studying documentary filmmaking.” You choke out, but continue on. “Love this lighting set up, by the way, it really hides all sins.” That gets a light chuckle out of the crew surrounding you.

“And these sins you’re hiding are…” Alan grins but quickly bounces to the next topic. “Certainly a good call, Rich. Heart of the Night is the only song off the album that Y/N is singing lead on and look how well it’s doing. How did that happen?”

“Most of our songs were already written from before when we finally got the money to record. We wanted Y/N to feel a part of it, so she went on and wrote Heart of the Night and we were all very pleasantly surprised that it’s become such a hit.” Steve explains. “She also directed the music video we’ll be debuting today. I can’t believe she let us do all the things we did in that… well, you’ll just have to see for yourselves. We can be a bit of a handful.” The boys all chuckle.

“That and she plays the weirdest collection of instruments. Rhythm guitar, any type of strings, the saxophone… She's a boss on the harmonica.” Eddie turns to you as he speaks. “You just need to get over those pesky little nerves about your singing, Bun!” He points in your direction.

You feel the heat rise behind your perfectly painted cheeks at the slip of your nickname. You cast your gaze down at your lap. Not liking how the conversation has turned directly onto you.

Alan quirks an eyebrow at you. “Bun?” He teases.

You have yet to lift your eyes when Rich answers for you. “Bunny, an affectionate nickname. It’s stuck around since grade school when she wandered into Lawrence's backyard in search of a rabbit she was chasing.”

“A rockstar called Bunny. There’s a first for everything.” Alan quips, but quickly notices your displeasure in the current topic. Sensing your growing panic, he addresses the rest of the group. “This has been quite the debut album, with more hits sure to come from it. Any bands you’ve taken inspiration from while writing and producing?”

Rich jumps at the question. “Fleetwood Mac would be a big one. The way they layer their sounds is just unmatchable. You catch something new with every listen of an album of theirs.”

“I can’t be a pianist from Long Island and not mention the granddaddy, Billy Joel.” Lawrence adds. “His songs take you on such a ride. They’re full stories, each one of them.”

“And you, Y/N?” Alan directs the next question. “Who will you be drawing inspiration from when you write your next hit single?”

You smile to yourself. “It’s gotta be Queen for me. I’ve loved every one of their albums. I mean, the way they’ve changed their sound just in the past few years alone. They’re always transcending. Never afraid to try out something new or weave a different genre into one of their songs. But you always know it’s a Queen song. I saw them 2 years ago when they played the Garden, and fu--” You catch yourself as you get more animated. “And they were all just so on. Perfectly in sync. There’s something so distinct about their sound, so practiced. I’d love to get to their level, to be able to experiment like that. To give joy in the way they’ve given it to me.” You finish. Realizing you’ve rambled for a bit, you turn your eyes downwards yet again.

“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you talk since you came into the studio!” Alan laughs. “Well, you heard it here first folks, Y/N L/N is a Queen fan, just like the rest of us. I’m sure you’re just as excited about their new album as well.” You nod quickly as Rich hides a smile. Knowing full well you’ll be first in line to purchase their new album, Hot Space when it drops.

“But before you get off to writing more hits, I believe you have a tour coming up!” Alan states, signaling that the interview is wrapping up.

“Yeah, we have a small American tour starting in February. But until then we’ll be opening up for Hall and Oates during their tour of the NorthEast next month.” Steve says excitedly, bouncing slightly in his seat.

“And with that, I think we’ll roll into the long-anticipated music video and directorial debut for the lovely Y/N L/N. Thank you all so much for coming in today and I can’t wait to see what’s next on the horizon for you. Here’s Lo & The Limbs with Heart of the Night!” Alan keeps his painted smile till the red light vanishes from above the lens on the large pedestal camera in front of him.

You breathe out the breath you’d been choking on as Rich puts an arm around your shoulders. He leans in and whispers lightly, “And only one hint of a fuck, ladies and gentlemen. She might just make it in this business after all.”

- - - - - - -

One Month Later - Veterans Memorial Coliseum - New Haven, Connecticut

The Limbs bound off the stage in full force, glistening with sweat and excitement. It was the largest crowd they’d played for by far. 10,000 people cheered from the audience as roadies and crew moved around them to set up for the main act, Hall and Oates. Rich spreads his long arms and huddles the rest of the group into a family hug, your skin sticking to one another, the smell of sweat filling your noses.

“I just want us to all remember this moment.” He speaks to the group, foreheads touching. “Even if nothing happens past this album. That was insane.”

“Absolutely bonkers, dude!” Steve says and he bounces up and down beside you. You all take a deep collective breath and squeeze.

“Alright, get off of me you fucks.” You laugh, untangling yourself from their vast expanse of limbs. “We all stink and I have to get out of all... this” You gesture to the skin-tight bodysuit your best friend, Dawn, had insisted you wear. Eddie presses a light kiss to your temple as he lets you into the dressing room first to change out of their view.

You close the door and sigh, glancing at yourself in the mirrors that line one wall of the room. Your eyes are bright, your hair is two times the size of when you went out on stage an hour before, and your makeup looks like you’d been in a fight. Grinning to yourself, you start to unlatch the halter top of the bodysuit, excited for the air to cool your skin.

Just as you are about to shimmy out of the rest of the ensemble, the door bursts open.

“Shit! Lawrence, what the hell?!” Scrambling to cover your top half.

Lawrence trains his eyes to the ceiling as he speaks. “Bunny, you gotta… just cover up and get your ass out here. You just... You gotta see, c’mon.”

Flustered, you hurry to redress your sticky body. After making sure everything is properly covered, you step out into the hallway backstage, already glaring at the boys. They’re all tight-lipped, staring at one another. “Okay, someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?” You say loudly. “Shhhhh” Rich hisses as he gestures behind him with a shake of his head. You glance over his shoulder to see the backs of two men. John Hall and Daryl Oates.

“Yeah, okay... I don’t get it. We’ve hung out with them like 5 times. Why are we fangirling?”

Rich widens his eyes at you and you glance back at them again. This time they part and you can catch a glimpse of who they’ve been talking to.

The flash of a tight leather jacket, a mustache, and two front teeth shining while laughter erupts from behind them.

You gasp.

“Fucking, fuck. That’s Freddie fucking Mercury.” You say, a bit too loud.

The bold man in question locks eyes with you. Something mischievous dances behind them as he narrows his gaze. Daryl and John move to their roadies to get fixed up before heading out on stage and Freddie lets out a sharp burst of laughter as he makes his way over. Your stomach churns with embarrassment but you can’t tear your eyes from his.

“Quite the redundancy of expletives, my dear. All you had to do was say hello.” he grins at you, all teeth. You’re not one to get too clammy in front of other musicians, but your voice gets trapped in your throat. You pray to whatever gods are out there that your eyes don’t get any wider.

Eddie’s easy charm luckily saves you. “This beautiful songstress right here is Y/N L/N.” You barely lift your arms as Freddie pulls you in for a light hug and kiss on the cheek. “But you can call her Bunny.” Eddie grins. So much for easy charm you think as you stare daggers into the profile of his face.

“Ha! Bunny? Oh my, that is wonderful.” Freddie chuckles. “It sounds as if you’re a socialite... Or a stripper. I can’t tell.” He beams at you. You can’t help but beam right back.

John was just seated on another couch, also trying to practice his part but he's a bit distracted. Even so, he tried his best to focus.

You walked back in the room with Roger, laughing about some corny joke he's told you. "You're going to record in a few minutes, go practice your drums a bit," you said, shooing him. "Can you kiss my drumsticks goodluck?" He jokingly asked with a cheeky grin. "No, but I can give it a quick practice on your head," you said sardonically.

"How about my hands?" He asked again. "How about I smite you if you don't practice?" You said, arms crossed. "Just a kiss," he mumbled. You laughed. "John's going to kill us both."

"Deacy's fine with it, right, John?" Roger called over to John. You turned to look at him, sending Roger a glare. "He was just kidding, John," you brought your eyes back to Roger. "Go practice," you chuckled, shaking your head.

++|++

"Sorry," John mumbled, it was the 3rd take already of the same part of the song because he kept messing up. Roger groaned, putting his sticks down on one of his dreams. "Come on, mate, get it together, we've been here for forever."

You worriedly looked at John who was just looking down at his bass guitar. "H-hey, it's okay. Don't mind him, John. We can try again. Do you want to practice a bit first?" You asked, trying to help him out. "No. I'm fine," he replied coldly, you just nodded.

They started playing again and for the fourth time, John got the chord wrong again, earning two loud groans of frustration from Brian and Roger. You looked at Freddie who was also looking at you, you shrugged.

"Let's call it a day, we'll try again tomorrow." Freddie said, walking away from the boys. You jogged towards John. "Hey, you okay?" You asked, tilting your head a bit. He didn't say anything except gave you an almost unnoticeable nod before walking away. You felt slightly offended, looking at the other guys to see if they're thinking the same thing.

"He's mad," Brian whispered, carefully putting his guitar down on the couch like as if it was a new born baby. "It's your fault, Roger, you kept complaining," he added, pointing at Roger accusingly. "How is it my bloody fault? He's the one who kept getting it wrong," Roger retorted, also lowering his voice so John wouldn't hear. You walked over to Freddie who was just sipping on his wine, looking at the two bicker about whoever pissed John off.

You sighed, seating beside him. "It's your fault, you know," he spoke, making you turn your head to him. "What?"

"Why John's acting that way, it's your fault," He enunciated, you waited for him to explain but he didn't so you asked, "how is it my fault? I didn't do anything. We barely even talked today."

"Exactly," Freddie said, taking another sip off his glass. "You were all over Brian and Roger today except him."

"Hey, you're the one who asked me to help Roger. And Brian — I was just helping him out. Besides, I didn't think... I thought John was just always chill about... stuffs... and not being the jealous type of guy..." you reasoned, mumbling the last bit, looking at Brian and Roger who were now talking about something else.

Freddie just shrugged, looking at you with amusement, as if telling you, "you're screwed."

You groaned, getting up. "Fine, I'll apologize." You walked out the room, trying to look for John. You found him seated on the balustrade, looking at the calluses on his fingers.

"Hey," you hesitantly called, your hands clasped behind your back. He slighy turned his head to you. No words. That hurt...

You sat beside him, placing your hands on your lap. "You mad?" You asked, fiddling with your bracelet. "At me?"

"No," he mumbled. You lifted your head to look at him. "I kinda feel like you are."

"I'm not."

You didn't say anything. There was just silence engulfing the both of you. "You should get back in, they probably need your help in there," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "Practice is over —"

"Joke around with them then," he said, cutting you off.

"That sure sounds like you're not mad at me," you jokingly said. You couldn't help but smile. "Are you jealous?" You asked, bending down a little so you could see his face. "No," he said, looking the other direction. "I think you are," you chuckled, wrapping him in a hug. "I'm sorry, Deacy. I was just helping them out."

"You never help me out," he finally admitted, complaining like a little kid. "Because I know you're already good and I know you'd always be the first one to memorize your chords, so I thought I could help the others out," you explained. "But I know, I still should've helped you out. My boyfriend needs me more," you giggled, leaning closer to give him a peck.

"I'm sorry, love," you frowned, wrapping him tighter. He finally faced you. "I'm sorry too, got a bit childish," he mumbled, returning the hug. "Again."

You snickered, giving him another peck. "Because you've been laughing around the guys —"

"But they're not my boyfriend and at the end of the day, you're the one I'd want to be laughing with. So stop being jealous," you smiled comfortingly.

"I love you, John." He leaned in giving you a sweet and passionate kiss. "I love you too and I'm sorry."

She had been in a coma for nearly a week before she awoke to the sight of her  Uncle Harold, Aunt Ruth, and her older cousin Brian by her bed side in a hospital room just outside of London. (Y/N) was destroyed knowing that her parents were gone. She cried herself to sleep every night, if sleep was fortunate enough to find her at all. Brian - who had visited the girl most every day - was quick to pick up on her sadness. It radiated off her like heat from the run. He had never had any siblings himself, but to the guitarist, it felt so natural for him to step into the big brother role, especially now that (Y/N) would be living with his family. He went out of his way to make sure that she was cared for, looked after and most importantly, felt loved. Brian was her shoulder to cry on, the one she told her hopes and dreams to, the one she asked all the awkward questions she was too scared to ask her aunt and uncle about. Many a night when sleep would allude her grasp, she would find herself wondering her way into Brian’s room. He was never able to turn her away, and for many weeks after she was released to his parents custody, shared his bed with her almost every night. Brian was her rock. He helped her through a very dark period of her life, and with his help, over time she was able to resemble the person she used to be prior to the accident. The pair spent as much time as they could together and formed a close bond to rival that of a biological brother and sister. He knew just what to do to put a smile on her face, the tonics and remedies she needed to cure her bad days, and actually took a genuine interest in some of the things she enjoyed. In exchange, he shared his love of music and building of guitars with her which blossomed her love of electrical engineering. She found herself tinkering with spare parts her uncle had laying which eventually led to her building Brian his first amp for the guitar that Brian and his dad had been constructing out of miscellaneous materials they were able to get their hands on for his birthday. 

As time passed, and Brian’s band Smile came into the picture, (Y/N) was introduced to her cousin’s best friend, the man, the myth, the legend, as she would come to know him as, none other than Roger Meadows Taylor. As to be expected, the drummer had tried to pick up the younger May, and as a result got a bloody nose when her fist let him know exactly how she felt about him. For a few weeks after that, their relationship had been extremely strained, (Y/N) refusing to even look at the blonde and vice versa - in fear of being sucker punched yet again. They quarreled pretty much every chance they got, Roger liking it to fighting with his younger sister Clare at times. One day they sat in the back of Smile’s bassist’s car, each death gripping the handles on their respective doors. It was then, the then seventeen-year-old, (Y/N) learned that the year prior, poor Roger had been thrown through the windscreen and was miraculously able to walk away with nothing but a few scrapes and bruises when he and some of his mates had gotten into a car wreck. He still enjoyed cars but riding in them was a different story as he steadily recovered from the psychological damage the wreck had caused him. They slowly forged a bond between them through their unfortunate shared experience, among other things and soon they had just as close a bond as she had with Brian. 

Then in 1970, a year into her first year of university - having skipped a grade - life brought the most fabulous man she would ever have the pleasure of meeting into her life, none other than Freddie Balsara. A recent graduate from art school and a brilliant singer in need of a band, they met in the pub the night of Smile’s last gig. He was a sweet, shy man, with an even more adorable smile, and even better ideas. (Y/N) saw the raw talent that coursed through his veins and knew after the end of their first song Doin’ Alright that she just had to convince Freddie to talk to her cousin, Roger, and Tim. Little did she know that Tim had opted to walk out on the band that night for another, Humpy Bong. It was fate that only five minutes later she strolled up to Roger’s van with Freddie close behind ready and eager to get Smile their new lead singer. Freddie had explained to (Y/N) during the show that he was in fact flatmates with Roger, but he had somehow managed to keep his singing skills secret from the drummer. When he gave the pair a little sample of his blessed pipes, they were sold. While the singer wasn’t a bassist, he was just what Smile needed to keep going, something the band would never forget that she did for them. Freddie, with help from Roger, brought the mischief (Y/N) so desperately needed and craved in her life. Pulling small pranks on the drummer and guitarist when it suited them was one of their favorite past times as well as shopping for old victorian clothing for his and Roger’s Kensington Market shop. 

The three of them were the brothers she never had - biologically - and (Y/N) couldn’t see how life could get any better. With them in her life, it was pretty much complete...or so she thought. 

October of 1970 saw the beginning of (Y/N)’s final year of undergraduate classes at university at Chelsea College. Much to her father’s disappointment, and then her Uncle’s after he died, she ignored their attempts to get her into the astro sciences like her older cousin. She instead stuck with her gut feeling and, with encouragement from Brian, decided to pursue a degree in Electrical Engineering. (Y/N) was on track to finish with a First Class Honours degree this next year and from there was looking into further graduate programmes looking mainly at Aerospace Engineering, trying to satisfy her father and uncle’s desire for her to be involved in the astro sciences like her older cousin. At this point, all she had been doing with her degree was repairing Brian’s amps and upgrading them as needed and as Queen’s - as they were now called - unofficial sound engineer. Not exactly the most glamorous of things, but she was happy. In fact the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to pursue a MSc. in acoustics and really become a sound engineer...but that was but a distant dream on this day. 

(Y/N) was looking down at the new class schedule she had picked up from the SU, when she was picked up around the waist from behind. The young (h/c) let out a frightened yelp waving her arms and legs frantically, trying to get the perpetrator to drop her until she managed to hit the person in the side of the head with her rather large Advanced Electrical Engineering textbook. “Ow!” Roger’s high pitched voice met her ears as she was dropped to the ground. “What the fuck did you do that for?” He complained rubbing his head where she had hit him.

(Y/N) picked herself up out of the dirt and elegantly brushed off her skirt as she glared at the drummer. “Serves you right for sneaking up on me, Taylor.” She growled. “What are you even doing here?” 

“Oh you know, was just dropping off a girl I’m seeing.” He winked at the young engineer. 

“Crystal?” 

“No Crystal was last week, this one’s name is Heather. Studies maths here apparently.” He said pulling a carton of cigarettes from his pocket before fishing out his lighter. He quickly lit up taking a long drawl. “Can’t imagine why, Chelsea isn’t exactly known for their maths program.” He exhaled, the smoke coming out of his mouth and nose like a dragon.

“Says the dentist.” 

“Not a dentist major anymore, thank you. Biology now, get it right.” Roger growled, pausing to take another long drawl on the cigarette. “So what’s our young sound engineer up to this weekend?” He asked leaning up against a wall, winking at a pair of girls making them giggle and blush, talking in shrill, high pitched voices as they passed. 

“Trying to get that cursed box Brain calls an amp to work for your guys gig.” She sighed running a hand through her hair. “I’ve fixed the relays and rewired it so many times, it might as well be a new amp...if he had the money I’d tell him to just get a new one at this point, its more scrap than anything now.”

“You’re still coming to the gig yeah?”

“We’ll see about that, I have to…”

“Oh what more do you have to do then see your best mate’s perform? Come on (Y/N), it’s been so long since you’ve been there to support us! I’ve had no one to get sloshed with after the shows!” 

“What about Freddie? Surely he’s always up for getting shit faced after gigs.”

“Mary’s been coming to the gigs recently, and Bri’s been chatting up this other bird so I’ve been putting my...other talents to work - if you know what I mean.” He explained with a wink as an attractive brunette in a revealing violet top and black miniskirt passed them, glancing at the blonde drummer with the flutter of her eye lashes. “And they’re about to be put to use again.” He raised his eyebrows in infatuation, dropping his cigarette to the ground before stomping it out with converse before chasing after the girl. 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, a playful grin lurking on her features. “Happy hunting!” She called after the blonde as he moved to catch up to the girl.

“I better see you there Saturday night (Y/N)! No getting out of this one, you’re coming!” He called before falling in step next to the girl beginning to chat her up.

(Y/N) smirked and rolled her eyes at the drummer before looking at her class schedule again. She quickly made her way to the building and classroom her Advanced Electrical Engineering class was to be in. Slowly she made her way into the room, all the lad’s eyes on her as she took her usual seat close to the front. (Y/N) never quite understood why after two years the lads in her class continued to stare at her as if she were a creature from outer space whenever she walked into the lectures. At this point, they should be so daft for assuming that she would drop out with only a year left. Maybe they just didn’t know how to act in front of a lady, but the female knew very well how sorely out of place she was in this programme. Most students tended to head for the back to space out and avoid being called on but not her. Having achieved 8 GCE O levels and 3 A-levels passes all at A’s throughout her schooling career, she wasn’t afraid of the tutors. On top of that, front of room seats meant quick getaways, and after being overwhelmed by guys trying to flirt with her almost every class her first year, she knew to never make that mistake again. (Y/N) settled into her seat before she reached into her bag, taking out her notepad before she began to look over her notes from her latest attempt at building a new amp Brian. She had almost gotten this one to work, just as she was fine tuning the sound, the relays short circuited and started off a mini explosion in their tool shed when she plugged it in to see if it worked. It had burnt off a small section of her (h/l) (h/c) locks, but nothing that her aunt’s hairdresser hadn’t been able to easily fix.

(Y/N) had thrown herself into some new calculations and was on the verge of finishing when she was pulled from her rainbow of genius upon hearing someone clear their throat. She looked to her right to find a young man, probably her age with long dark brown hair and gorgeous grey-green eyes standing next to her.