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breanime · 4 years

Note

What about a rival gang coming after you to get to rio and you get shot in the side. When you wake up from surgery your super scared and looking/asking around for rio but he’s out “taking care of it” and when he comes back you’re super upset with him and just scared and he loves on you and is super apologetic. Thank you! 💛💛

To be clear: my requests aren’t open, I’m just finishing up headcannons from yesterday :)

This one got a little long...haha, my bad

*gif not mine*

As soon as the gun goes off, Rio’s whole world seems to stop

One second, he was pushing you to the floor and pulling out his pistol, shooting at the assholes who came for him

And the next, you’re screaming

When he looked down at you, he can see the blood seeping through your clothes

And his heart stops

He vaguely registers the sound of his own voice, and Mick and his guys run up, guns blasting, while Rio crouches down next to you

There are tears in his eyes, and he hates that because he doesn’t want the last thing you see to be him crying

He hates that his mind want there, and Rio tries to focus in on you, telling you that you’re gonna be ok, to stay with him

But your eyes flutter close, and while he can feel you breathing and knows that you just lost consciousness, he’s shaking with fear

Rio doesn’t know it, but you can still hear him as you’re passed out

And the last thing you hear is his voice, deep and slow and full of absolute RAGE saying

“Every person--every. single. one.--who had something to do with this is dead”

When you wake up, you’re in a hospital room

Your side hurts, and you hiss as you try to sit up

One of Rio’s guys is there, and he gets up and goes to your side, telling you to try not to move

“W... Where’s Rio?” You ask weakly

“He’s taking care of this,” the guy assures you, “but you’re safe. I’m here, and there are two other guys outside...”

“Wait, what does that mean? ‘Taking care of this’?” You ask, though you know the answer

The guy steps back, looking uncomfortable. “Just... Just rest, I’ll let him know you’re up”

You wait until the door closes behind him to cry

You’re scared, and in pain, and you’re worried about Rio

You don’t want to be there, you want to be with him, in his arms

Why wasn’t he here with you?

Less than 30 minutes later, Rio walks in the room

His face is bruised, and you can see blood on his shoes, but he looks fine

When he walks into your room, you can see the anger in him

His eyes are black, and his shoulders are tensed

His fists are balled up at his sides, and you can feel the power, the anger, the murderous rage coming off of him as he moves towards you

You can tell that your man has killed tonight, and from the looks of him--

--he killed more than once

But as Rio gets closer to you, he softens

His eyes turn sad, and his frown is one of guilt and sorrow, not rage as he looks at you

He stands at the side of your bed, looking down at you before reaching his hand out and caressing the side of your face, his long, bruised knuckles brushing your tears

“Baby, I--”

“Where were you?” You interrupt, and he steps back

“Taking care of--”

“--of business,” you finish for him, sitting up, wincing as you did, “yeah, I heard,” you want to swat him away when he steps back over to you and helps you up, but you can’t

Instead, you lean into his touch

“I was so scared...” You say, tears gathering in your eyes

“I know, baby,” Rio says back, “I’m sorry, I should have protected you--”

“No, not then,” you shook your head, “Now. When I woke up and you were gone.” You sniffle. “I was all alone.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, sitting on the edge of your bed, “but I’m here now, and I ain’t leavin’ your side till you’re all better”

You nod, and he leans over and kisses your forehead, his lips soft and warm on your skin

You let Rio wrap his arms around you, melting into his touch

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry, baby”

You don’t know if he’s apologizing for not being there or for you getting shot, but either way, you tell him it’s okay

Rio is true to his word

He stays with you every day while you’re in the hospital, sleeping on a cot next to you

He wakes up before you, makes sure you’re sleeping comfortably and kisses your forehead as he watches you sleep

Rio has the nurses show him how best to change the dressing on your side and what to do when you’re in pain

He also has a very serious talk with the (slightly intimidated) doctor about what meds you’ll be on and how much activity you should be doing while you’re healing

During the day, he sits in bed with you, you in his lap and his arms wrapped around your waist, and you watch terrible daytime TV together

He gets hella into the soap operas

He still gets calls and texts, but he stays in the room with you while he discusses business, unless you’re asleep

In which case, he’ll send in 3 of his guys

(2 to watch over you and 1 to entertain you)

while he handles business

Rio tells you exactly what he did to the members of the rival gang

It’s gruesome, but he wants to keep you in the loop, and you’re grateful

The only time Rio leaves your side for more than a few minutes is the day before you’re schedule to go home

He preps the house

Makes sure there are clean sheets on the bed

Buys extra soft, feather-stuffed pillows for you

Lays out your favorite, comfiest set of PJs for you

And makes sure the fridge is stocked with all of your favorite foods

He also stops by one of his warehouses to check the product and make sure Mick’s keeping everything going while Rio is busy

(he is)

Then he goes back to the hospital to pick you up

When you get home, Rio doesn’t let you lift a finger

He holds you all day, kissing you and telling you over and over how sorry he is

Finally, you look up at him and say: “Baby, I don’t blame you for any of this. It’s okay. I love you.”

“Love you too, mama,” he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “So much...”

You can tell Rio holds a lot of guilt and regret over what happened, so you try to show him that you’re fine

You get more and more mobile with each passing day

And so one day, you wake up before Rio--

--he hadn’t been sleeping through the night since you’d gotten shot, he wakes up in the middle of the night to check on you, and sometimes he can’t fall back asleep until the sun comes up

So you press a soft kiss to his cheek, glad that he’s sleeping, and sneak down to the kitchen

It takes you longer to get to the kitchen than it used to (obviously), but once you’re there, you start cooking Rio a big breakfast

You’re struggling to reach the pancake mix in the cabinet when you hear Rio’s voice

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He strides across the kitchen, glaring at you

“Makin’ breakfast.” you answer, pouting when he pulls your hand down. “What?”

Rio takes a breath, a telltale sign that he was upset with you but trying not to overeact

“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” he says carefully

“I know, but I’m feeling better, and I wanted to make you breakfast cause you’ve been taking such good care of me.”

He sighs, and you can see his eyes soften as he looks at you. “That’s insane,” he chuckles, “you’re insane...” He leans down and kisses you, his arms wrapping around you

His kiss is soft and gentle, and when he pulls back, he’s smiling--

--an actual, genuine Rio smile

“I love you,” you say, smiling back at him

“I love you too,” he says, kissing you again

He takes you to bed then, and you spend the morning in his arms

You know he’s still not ready to talk about his feelings with all of this yet, and you’re not going to push him,

but you try to let him know a few things.

Namely that you’re safe now, you don’t blame him, and you know that he’ll always do whatever it takes to protect you

And he does

The next time the two of you go out, when you’re all better, you can tell there’s been a shift in dynamics in the streets

Everyone treats you with a strong sense of respect, and when you walk down the street, people almost throw themselves into traffic to get out of your way

You raise an eyebrow as the owner of the expensive restaurant Rio brought you to nearly breaks his neck to open the door and greet you

The restaurant is empty; Rio reserved it for just the two of you

(and the guards he keeps around you now)

“Really, Rio?” You ask

He grins, his hand on your waist

“Just doing what I can to keep my girl safe,” he says innocently

You laugh, and spend the rest of the evening basking in Rio’s love

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

Okay, I’m not even gonna lie hurt/comfort is my JAM, and I will DEFINITELY be fleshing this idea out before I go to bed so I can (hopefully) dream about it. Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!

Everything Taglist: @sweetybuzz25 @mrsjaxtellerfan @rhabakoli @encounterthepast @realduckvader @justvnash @knowles-morgan @ateliefloresdaprimavera @evanlys19 @nyxxnoxx @carlaangel86 @luminex3 @jigsawlover10 @gollyderek @otomefromtheheart @lexxierave @crushed-pink-petals

Rio Taglist: @gemini0410 @glimmerglittergirl @gensneverland @jamielennkeeler @angels-pie @hermionetriskatniss @christinawxxx @nich0lasmatthews @whovianayesha @tashawar @existentialvacuum @beardburnsupersoldiers @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored

#rio x reader #rio imagine #rio good girls #good girls rio #manny montana #rio

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rovewritesit · 4 years

Text

Angel Of My Dreams (Chapter 4) John Deacon x Reader Series

Series Summary: After reluctantly joining a band with your childhood best friends, you are thrust into oncoming stardom with no sea legs and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. But you just might find your way, thanks to some seasoned pros by your side. And the interest of one particular bassist.

This series is a work of fiction, and is loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Strong language. Feelings of anxiety.

Chapter Notes: This one was a doozy! Don’t start your very first fic with only a vague idea of where it’s going, friends! Quick reminder that this is a slow ass burn. Gonna take us a bit to get there but want to point out there will be no infidelity. Also fun fact: my grandfather actually did work at Elaine’s and the Mick Jagger story is true.

Song/Title Inspiration: Angel - Fleetwood Mac

Songs Mentioned:

Hallelujah, I Love Her So - Ray Charles

Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel) - Billy Joel - [I know it wasn’t released till the 90s but I couldn’t shake it]

Taglist: @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @brianmays-hair @deacyblues @squishy-geckboye @hae-bee @aprilaady

- - - - - - -

July 1982 - Freeport, Long Island

“I’ll be right back,” you sigh to no one in particular, pushing yourself off of the faded paisley couch in the basement of Steve’s parent’s house and making your way upstairs for a glass of water. The dull pounding in your head had only gotten worse from repeatedly staring at the green shag carpeting leftover from the prior decade. Navigating the layout of the familiar house with ease, you make your way to the kitchen.

“Oh, Bunny! Wonderful, I was just about to bring down some iced tea,” calls out Steve’s mother upon seeing you.

“Thanks, Mrs. Castellano. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, you know me. It was too quiet when you were all away.” The Limbs had recently gotten back from a small European tour--the album having spread beyond England; to Scotland, France, Germany, and Belgium. “I can’t help myself when I get all of you back under my roof. Speaking of… how’s it going down there?” she presses.

You keep your deadpan expression glued to your face as you lock eyes with the kind woman.

She grimaces, “I had a feeling. You better bring this back yourself then,” she hands you the pitcher.

“Will do. Thanks again, Mrs. C,” you tell her as you start to trudge your body back towards the basement. You let out a deep sigh before yanking the door open and descending into the pit of your own personal hell.

Lawrence’s voice booms from below, “I said simple! A simple four to the floor, and that’s it.”

The rest of The Limbs were right as you left them. Eddie and Rich lounge on the couch that is pushed up against the wood-paneled walls, their guitars strewn casually over their legs as they watch the ongoing argument. Lawrence paces around the room, his hands seemingly glued to his head as he pulls on his hair, and Steve sits behind his drum kit that’s tucked away in the corner. Padded blankets hang from the ceiling around him - a sorry excuse for soundproofing.

“Oh c’mon, I’m just adding some flavor to it! I’ll be as boring, sorry simple, as you want when we actually record it,” Steven replies, twirling a drumstick in his right hand.

Rich lets out a sigh as he clocks you making your way back. “Bun, any help here?”

You softly place the pitcher on a table off to the side before turning to the group, leaning back on your hands. “I just don’t get why we need to debut something new if it’s obviously not ready,” you say carefully.

“Of course you’d say that,” Lawrence grumbled, gesturing in your general direction. “Do you not want to sing it? Because you all told me you thought it was good!”

“It’s not that, and you know it, it’s just-”

“It just needs some work before Sunday, so let’s run the rhythm section again,” Eddie cuts in impatiently from his perch on the back of the couch. He untangles his spidery limbs and makes his way over to where you’re camped out.

“Okay, I’ll explain it again,” Lawrence huffs.

“We don’t need this stress two days before we play,” you tell Eddie softly.

“It’s a hometown show, Y/N,” he looks at you pointedly. “These folks helped get us to where we are. It’ll be nice to give them something new.”

The label had secured The Limbs a night at the Jones Beach Theater, the largest outdoor venue on the island. People from all over traveled to watch such acts as Jimmy Buffet, James Taylor, and Aerosmith, the height of entertainment for the suburban droves. And now they’ll be camping out for the first hometown Limbs show since they’d been signed. It was a huge deal, and you knew it, but you didn’t need something unfamiliar to throw off your already wavering shadow of a presence on stage.

Rich begins to pluck out the new bass line, carefully watching Lawrence’s reaction as he plays. On the pick-up, Steve again adds a light flourish as he joins in.

“Steve! For god’s sake! What did I just say?!”

“Live a little, will ya, Lawrence!” Steven shouts back.

The door to the basement wrenches open, and you all freeze. Mr. Castellano’s footsteps are heavy as he stomps down the stairs, somehow staring all of you down at once.

“Kids. If you’d be so kind as to keep it down a tad. I already have to watch the Yankees hand their asses over to the Blue Jays up there. I would at least like to hear it.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Steve mumbles.

“Thank you.” He starts to make his way back up the stairs but halts, turning to you once again. “Oh, also, someone from your label called before,” he adds on casually.

Steven jumps up from his stool, “What?! Dad!”

“What?! Steven!” he mimics. “I’m not your secretary.”

“Can you just tell us what they said?” Steve scoffs at his father.

“Something about being invited to a show at The Garden tonight. Some band. It’s… Dang it. I wrote it down somewhere,” he mutters, making his way back up the stairs.

“I wonder who it is,” Rich thinks aloud, glancing around to all of you.

Eddie notices as your body immediately stiffens beside him.

“Bun?” he asks slowly. “Do you know who’s playing Madison Square Garden tonight?”

Your eyes find the green carpet once again. Of course you knew who was playing tonight. Queen was beginning their two-night stay at the venue. Dawn wanted to get tickets, but you had argued that it was getting harder for you to go unrecognized in public. That, and the fact you had come to the realization you could only act like a complete fool around any of the band members. You weren’t keen on adding another entry to the list.

“It’s Queen!” Mr. Castellano calls from upstairs. “Starts at 8. You kids should get going if you’re gonna make it.”

“Queen’s playing?” Lawrence marvels. “How did we miss that?”

Rich rises, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe all the incessant practicing you’ve been holding us hostage for?”

“She knew,” Eddie smirks, pointing at you with his thumb. You stick your tongue out at him.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I’ve never gotten the chance to see them live before!” Steve questions, already rocking back on his heels with excitement. He had become quite the Queen fan since your run-in with Freddie after sticking to him like glue that entire night.

You shrug, trying to act nonchalant, “I thought we had more important things to focus on.”

“No, that’s not it,” Eddie deduces, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re just embarrassed that you went all jellied around Mr. Mercury the last time.”

“You’re the one who had to go and tell him all about me fawning over them on MTV!”

“Ooor, maybe it’s because the entirety of the UK saw you making eyes at their bassist on that game show,” Lawrence elaborates.

“There were no eyes being made at anyone,” you grit out defensively, knowing full well that their words were ringing true.

“I, for one, am happy you have a crush, Bun. You know it’s been a while since…” Rich trails off, leaving out the name of a dreaded ex none of you speak of.

You push yourself off your perch on the table with a huff. “You know what? We’ll go. Let’s go. That way, I can disprove all your wildly inaccurate assumptions,” you retort, wanting to get the heat off you fast.

Steven chuckles, “Oh no, she’s broken out her dictionary, folks. Looks like we’ve hit a nerve.” He pokes your side playfully.

“Shut up, please,” you tell them, making your way over to the stairs. “We have a train to catch.”

- - - - - - -

You’re late.

The muffled bass from the arena hits your ears as the Limbs dash up the steps leading from Penn Station to MSG. You all but sprint to catch up with the boy’s long gaits as they approach the box office window.

“Hiya, there’s supposed to be some tickets at will-call for us from the band,” Eddie explains to a woman behind the glass as he tries to catch his breath.

“Name?”

“Uh… Lo & The Limbs?”

“Don’t have anything under that name. Could it be something else?”

“Can you try just The Limbs?” he guesses, turning back to the group with wide, panicked eyes.

“Nope, sorry,” she answers in a monotone.

“How about The Legs,” you offer up from your spot behind Rich’s tall figure. She just shakes her head.

“Well, fuck,” Lawrence sighs, slapping his palms against his legs, obviously ticked off from the 45-minute train ride you’d all barely caught because Steve had changed his shirt a minimum of three times before you could all head out.

“What about Bunny?” Steve asks with a giggle.

The woman raises her eyebrows before checking the list yet again.

“Ah, there you are. Bunny and friends,” she concludes with a sigh.

A chorus of chuckles erupts from the boys. You point your finger at Eddie.

“I’m coming for ya. Eds. You’re not gonna know where or when, but I’ll get you back for this one day,” you tell him playfully.

“Oh yeah, and when you kill me, you can be free to go off and start your solo group, Bunny and Friends.”

She hands you all large laminate passes and gestures for you to follow a security guard. They deposit you in one of the skyboxes on the 10th floor. The Limbs tentatively enter, glancing around at the mishmash of people gathered. Extra crew, friends of the band, some execs, you guess to yourself. The boys immediately descend on the small bar set up in the back of the room.

“Here, I assume you need one of these,” Lawrence shoves a beer in your shaking hands.

“You assume right, good sir.”

“How the hell did we lose Steve already?” Eddie gripes. Rich easily spots him over the tops of heads surrounding them, pointing to a tall figure pushing his way towards the front of the box that opens up into seating. You all follow, mummering polite excuse me’s and thank you’s as you try to keep up. You can hear Play The Game get louder as you approach the view.

Steve rushes to the first row of seats, leaning over the railing of the balcony. “God, will you look at all these people?” he marvels, watching as the dancing lights illuminate the mass below him.

But you’re not looking at the crowd. Your gaze immediately finds the stage, where Freddie is situated behind a piano off to the left. His voice booms as if he were standing right next to you, and you’re positive that even without a mic, it would be heard by all 20,000 individuals. His eyes are closed as he slams hard on the piano, seemingly in his own world, yet the entire crowd is wholly entranced.

Brian then casually lopes to center for his solo. He smiles out at the crowd as his fingers dance across the frets gracefully while Eddie screams in appreciation throughout. He then jogs back to his mic, nearly missing his cue for his backing vocals, but his fingers never rest. Roger’s gravely falsetto catches your ear, and you train your eyes on the multitasking drummer. Even up behind his kit, his presence takes center stage while he keeps perfect time. The group ends the song in perfect synchronicity as the lights cut to black.

The chords for Somebody To Love start with a few majestic trills from Freddie’s voice, but your attention is once again grabbed away. Towards the back of the stage, still cast in darkness, you see John. He quickly shrugs off a fitted leather jacket to reveal an even tighter full cerulean blue ensemble before a roadie slips the strap of his bass over his head. He strolls into the light just as Freddie finishes his improv, lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet as they begin the song.

While he keeps his gaze mostly pointed to the ground, his body already thrums with anticipation. As it really gets going, you watch as he comes to life. You can’t help but hang onto his every movement; the unintentional jerks of his head, the light two-step of his feet as he shuffles along to his bass line's groove. He seems entirely at the will of the song and loving every minute of it. A pang of jealousy hits your chest as you wonder if you’d ever feel that free on stage.

Not much conversation passes between you and the boys as you watch on, more than a bit awestruck. You’re not sure how many songs pass, but fresh beers repeatedly appear in your hands every so often. The lights are dizzyingly bright as your eyes skip around the stage, trying to absorb as much as you can. You find they consistently flick back to John, sucking in every minutia of his performance. Your chest tightens like it did the day of Pop Quiz. Every time he had caught your eye, you remember having to push down the inescapable thoughts you were having. You would tell yourself you don’t know what it is about him, but you’d be lying.

A voice jolts you out of your stupor. “You must be Fred’s young friends he met in New Haven.”

The group turns to find a small man situated in the row behind them wearing an impeccably tailored suit.

“Jim Beach, manager for the band,” he holds out a hand for each of you to shake. “Sorry for the last-minute invitation. Fred was simply beside himself when he remembered you’re all from New York. So glad you could make it.”

“This is incredible, thanks so much for having us,” Rich tells the man sincerely as his gaze keeps being drawn back to the stage.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourselves. We’ve always been big fans of playing here.”

“It’s quite the spectacle,” you muse. “I've never seen The Garden this decked out before. I mean, those lighting rigs alone must cost…” you trail off.

“Believe me, you don’t want to know,” Jim replies with a quirk of his lips. “If you’d all like to follow me downstairs, they’ll be finishing up soon, and I’m sure Fred would love to thank you for coming.”

Steve leaps from his plastic seat, “Yes, please!”

- - - - - - -

The green room is unlike any you’ve ever seen—rust-colored persian rugs litter the floor, the grey slate underneath barely peeking through. Tapestries and various paintings line the walls, somehow giving the usually sterile space a homey feel. Multiple buffet tables filled with every accoutrement imaginable are tucked away in a back corner.

The room is scarce of people for the most part. Crew members filter in and out, grabbing waters, some puffing on cigarettes as they wipe down their sweaty foreheads. A select few have migrated down from the skybox as well.

Lawrence plops down on one of the many leather couches, taking in the room. “So this is what it’s like when you make it?”

“Seems a little excessive even for a band of their stature,” murmurs Rich as if reading your mind.

The deafening roar of the crowd is heard from above, and Queen closes out their encore. The crew members who are now needed for the post set break-down hurry from the room as it gets quiet. You all sit there in near silence for a few moments until a light cheer erupts as Freddie, Brian, and Roger all enter the room, swaddled in thick robes and towels around their necks. They're breathing heavy, still radiating the energy from their set, knowing full well that it was a fantastic show.

“Thank you, darling,” Freddie says as someone hands him a bottle of cold water, glancing around at the people who are still giving the band a wide berth. He spots the group of you huddled out of the way. “Oh!” he exclaims with a clap of his hands, making his way over, “You made it!”

He kisses you all on the cheeks, leaving a ghost of sweat on your faces. “My gangly young saplings! It’s lovely to see you.” He locks eyes with you, a wicked grin on his face. “And you most of all, my little cottontail.”

“You were fantastic Freddie, thank you so much for thinking of us, really,” you tell him genuinely.

“And who have we got here?” a towering Brian May appears behind Freddie.

“Oh yes, may I present to you, Lo & The Limbs!” Freddie says, spreading his arms wide. So he does remember the name; you laugh to yourself.

Eddie pushes further into the group to immediately extend his hand. “You slayed tonight, man. I mean, really slayed.”

Brian returns the shake with a surprised laugh. “Why, thank you. I’ve heard your album, and I have to say, you all… slay as well.”

“Oy, you!” A disheveled looking Roger Taylor makes his way over to the group, people parting like the red sea before him. He marches straight up to you, his finger inches from your nose. “I lost quite a lot of quid, thanks to you.”

You shrink back a bit. “I’m sorry?”

“It would be like John to bring in a ringer at the last second. And after we’d already threw down our bets.” You glance at Freddie with a confused look still on your face.

“What a lovely way to welcome our new friends,” Brian throws an arm over Roger’s shoulder before turning to you. “We may have made a slight wager on John’s most recent Pop Quiz appearance.”

“Slight?” Freddie smirks. “My new Gucci loafers would disagree, darling.”

Roger lets out an incoherent grumble. “Well, he usually fucks it up, doesn’t he? That is until you snuck in there.”

“I’m… sorry?” you offer, failing to find a witty remark for the situation.

He heaves a dramatic sigh, “I guess you’ll just have to make it up to me. I’ve been looking for someone to help me bury the bodies, or do my taxes, or be on call if I perhaps fancied a shag in the middle of the night?” he raises his brows in an overtly teasing manner.

You let out a sharp snort. “Fancy a shag? God, that sounds so much better than “ya wanna go fuck?”

Roger chuckles heartily, “Alright, alright. It was touch and go there for a bit, but I’ve come ‘round. I like this one. She can stay.”

“Y’know, we made a bet of sorts as well,” Lawrence reveals with a mischievous grin. The men all look to him, intrigued. “How long Y/N could keep her cool around that bassist of yours. She failed miserably, and now we shall reap the benefits by teasing her mercilessly until the end of time.”

You swear your mouth couldn’t have dropped open faster. Really need to work on that poker face, you tell yourself.

“Someone was trying to be cool around Deacy? Are you sure you’ve met the man?” Brian laughs.

Staring blankly around, all you know is you need to get out of this situation fast. “I need to pee,” you announce loudly. Really, Y/N? “Excuse me.”

Quickly ducking out of the room before anyone can say anything, you lean your back up against the wall in the hallway as you collect your swimming thoughts. What was it about this band that made you get all dumbstruck? Truth be told, you weren’t usually a timid person. Sure, everyone had bouts of social anxiety now and again, but you navigated social interactions seamlessly for the most part. It had always been easy for you to make friends or crack a quick comeback at a joke. Teasing was a form of endearment where you came from. But ever since you’d entered this new world, it was as if you were a stranger in your body. Who happened to be almost mute apparently. You push yourself off the wall to find a bathroom, your mind still fully occupied by your inner ramblings.

“Points!” a roadie shouts at you, trying to get your attention as they push a cart of cumbersome looking sound equipment right into your path. Before you have time to react, two hands grip your waist and pull you back to your previous position against the wall.

Once again, you are face to face with a familiar chest. You watch as a light chuckle rumbles through it.

“I know it’s cheesy to say, but we have to stop meeting like this. Or do you make it a point to always bumble about in narrow hallways?” John pulls his hands back to his side as you meet his attractive colored eyes, amusement flickering in them.

“John. Hi,” is all you manage.

“Good to see you again, Y/N. Freddie mentioned you all might be stopping by. Glad you could make it.”

You try and will your new persona not to take hold, but all you can do is smile meekly at him. He regards you patiently, cocking his head to the side slightly.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

“Yes, very much,” you rush out quickly. “I’ve never seen anything quite like that before. The Garden’s not an easy place to play.”

“Thank you. You’re kind," he smiles bashfully. "The crowds in New York are some of my favorites. I wish we got the chance to spend more time here, but it seems we’re always passing through.”

“Am I interrupting?” Freddie asks with raised eyebrows from the doorway, a grin on his face.

John makes his way over to him. “Not at all. Just heroically saving Y/N from a near-death run-in with Ratty.”

“Sounds about right,” Freddie muses. “Now, if we’re all safe and sound, I’d like to get out of here. I’m positively starving.”

“Where to?” John asks.

“I want to go someplace real New Yorkers go,” he looks to you expectantly.

“Bun-bun?” you hear from inside before Steve pokes his head around Fred.

“Is your grandpa working tonight?”

- - - - - - -

Even John knew of Elaine’s. He’d hadn’t heard about it because the notable food, but rather the wide variety of clientele it boasted. Writers, directors, actors, and musicians alike frequently filled the establishment for the ambiance and lively conversation. Freddie would love it.

The large group enters through the wood door under a large awning, immediately hit by a wall of sound. The small place is packed to the brim. Raucous laughter can be heard from most tables as the patrons sardine together, shouting over one another. It had a certain charm, he guessed, taking in the decor of signed book covers and hand-painted murals.

“Bambina!” A small italian-looking maitre d' steps from behind the counter and spreads his arms wide as he engulfs Y/N into a hug. “You didn’t tell me you were stopping by tonight.”

“Sorry, Papa. It was last minute. Just in time for the 10:30 rush by the looks of it.”

An infectiously warm smile spreads across his face. “Do you see me complaining? You hardly visit anymore now that you’re running around the world with that guitar. I’m so proud of you,” he adds softly, kissing her forehead. “Look at these boys!” he greets the rest of The Limbs like family, clapping each man on the back with love. “Am I shrinking already, or are all you still growing?”

“Probably a little of both, Dom,” Eddie laughs with the old man.

“And there’s even more, I see,” he inquires, finally noticing Queen.

It was unusual for them not to be the center of attention in any given situation, all of them hanging back except for Freddie, who marches right up to the man and places a kiss on his cheek.

“Freddie Mercury, a dear friend of your Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”

He looks to Y/N suspiciously. “Are they musicians? You know what happened that one time. I had to pry Elaine off of beating that tiny Mickey guy. I’m telling ya, it was ugly.”

“Not Mickey- Mick, Papa. How many times do I have to tell you?” Y/N shushes him, looking a bit embarrassed.

Dom waves his hand at her, “Whoever he is, that kid owes me his life. I expect these ones to behave.”

Roger snorts from the back, “Not very likely.”

“We promise,” Freddie swears. “And might I say, I love the suit. Very dashing,” he adds on for good measure.

“Well, how else do you think I got this job?” Dom smiles at him with a wink. “C’mon,” he gestures for all to follow as he leads them through the narrow restaurant, to a long table in the back. “Enjoy, boys,” he tells them as he heads back to his post up front, kissing Y/N on the cheek before leaving.

“Come sit next to me, my love,” Freddie calls to Y/N, patting the seat beside him. “If any of your other family members are as outrageous as that man, I want to hear all about them.”

The group moves to squish in around the table. Roger silently catches John’s eye and motions to the seat next to Y/N. He quirks his brows at him, confused, but makes his way to sit between them.

Eddie has taken his rightful place next to Brian with Rich in tow, the three already in deep conversation about the current music scene. Lawrence and Roger sit opposite each other, tearing into the bread basket and chatting about the show. Next to Freddie, Steve is eagerly hanging onto every word he says as he chats to Y/N about her upbringing.

“I’m just hoping one day we get to do something like that, man. Our show on Sunday should be a pretty big deal, though,” Lawrence tells Roger.

“Where are you playing? CBGB? The Palladium?”

“Nah, we’re playing out on the island. Jones Beach.”

“Huh, Long Island. We’ve never been to Long Island before,” Roger ponders, intrigued. “What’s there to do on Long Island?”

“Well, do you like bowling? Strip malls?” Lawrence pauses for effect. “Bowling at strip malls?”

John lightly chuckles. An arm brushes his shoulder, and he moves back slightly as a large woman weaves her hands around Y/N’s shoulders.

“My little Y/N has come back to us! And surrounded by even more devilishly handsome men than usual.”

Y/N turns around in her seat to give the woman a proper hug. “Elaine! It’s been too long.”

“Let me get a good look at you,” she gestures for Y/N to spin as she regards her. “If you need help beating em’ off of ya, I have my bat behind the counter.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, teasingly, “Don’t I know it. I have a vivid childhood memory of you chasing Ron Galella around the dining room with that thing.”

She lets out a larger than life laugh at the memory, patting the young girl on the back. “Oh, those were the good years. So, aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friends?”

“Elaine! I’m hurt you don’t remember our beautiful time together,” Eddie teases her from the table's end.

“Shut it, Eddie,” she reprimands him with a point of her stubby finger.

Y/N turns to the group, spreading her arms wide. “Guys, this is Elaine Kaufman, of Eliane’s, obviously. Elaine, this is Queen.”

She attempts a half-hearted curtsey. “Your majesties. Welcome.”

Before long, Elaine has pulled up a chair as she cracks dirty jokes back and forth with Freddie, which has the rest of the group (and some nearby diners) howling in laughter. Y/N’s now-familiar cackle sends tingles through John’s body once again. She’s more relaxed than he’s previously seen her be. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail, showcasing her broad smile as she looks on fondly, hands waving about whenever she joins in the conversation. Her face is mostly free of makeup and he catches the hint of a dimple on one of her cheeks as she glances over at him to share in a joke.

Freddie gasps as he catches someone entering the front door. “Is that Shirley MacLaine? Slap my ass and call me Sally, that woman does not age.”

“Come with me,” Elaine says, rising from her chair. “I think she’ll like you.”

Food appears without any of them having to order, along with bottles of wine Elaine insisted they’d love. John tentatively takes a bite of one of the dishes set before him.

“Oh god,” he blurts out upon tasting.

Y/N snickers beside him. “Bad, right? I recommend the tortellini if you want something remotely edible.” She pushes a plate towards him, snagging some for herself.

He gulps down water, trying to rid himself of the bland taste. “I would ask why this place is packed, but it seems I’ve already met her.”

“And you would be right. She’s a riot, but I fully blame her for my vulgar vocabulary,” she reveals, taking a giant bite of pasta.

“You and Freddie seem to have that in common.”

Y/N chews slowly as she muses over that sentiment. “That seems to be the only thing we have in common,” she says softly. He cocks his head at her in question.

“It’s just,” she starts, a somber look replacing her previously buoyant one. “Watching him on stage tonight. All of you actually. You seem so free, so comfortable up there. And Freddie is just magnetic, you know that. It’s as if he makes the crowd fall in love with him again and again with every song. I could never do that…”

“I find that quite hard to believe,” he mumbles, continuing on quickly. “Freddie’s a performer. Everything he does up there is for that crowd. Whereas I’m just a musician, I think. It probably helps that I don’t sing. It'll just take some time to find your footing. You don’t have to be both. You don't have to be either for that matter.”

She scoffs lightly, pushing the food around on her plate. “Don’t I? Ever since this all began, I feel like I’m some paper doll or something. People just dress me up and mold me into what they want. And I go right along with it because I don’t even recognize this version of myself if I’m being honest. So I just keep that mask on until I get back home and I can finally breathe. Because then, at least I don’t have to stare at a stranger in the mirror anymore.”

She breaks out of the daze she fell into while rambling. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t unload on you like this,” she catches herself. “I guess I just had a very different assumption of what my life would look like... I think I'm afraid of losing who I am in all this."

John takes her in, catching glimpses of his former self in her cracks. He itches to soothe her distress. “I can understand,” he tells her sympathetically. “Hell, I thought I was joining a band to play with on the side at uni and look at us now. Sometimes I still feel like I’m leading a double life. I tried to convince myself all this was just a job at first, but I’m sure you’re finding out quickly that’s not always true.”

Y/N looks at him intently, and it’s the first time he truly sees the depth of her eyes. He clears his throat before continuing.

“I've come to learn that the concept of home is a funny thing. For a long time, I held onto the idea of it that I always had for myself, but it’s harder than it looks with what we do,” he sighs, running a hand through his short curls, not wanting to dwell too long on his unpleasent situation back in England.

“But home can be anything really. It can be people,” he says, glancing at his bandmates. “Or even the stage, which sometimes I think is Freddie’s. Or you can be Roger, and make yourself at home wherever you go.”

They glance over at Rog, who is in the middle of an animated story, waving his glass of wine around as it drips on the tablecloth.

“So all you can do is find whatever that home is and hold onto it the best you can. And it might change, but that doesn't mean you have to," he nudges her shoulder with his.

Y/N smiles down at her lap. “Thank you,” she tells him quietly, still swimming in her own thoughts.

“Of course,” he assures, pausing to breathe- not used to giving long-winded explanations. Nervous that he’s pushed too far, he glances over, catching as her shoulders relax.

The restaurant was mostly cleared out by now, save for a few regulars sitting at the tall wood bar. The staff chats casually amongst themselves as they clean off empty tables for the night. Steve is giving Freddie details of the New York club scene, probably hoping to earn himself an invitation one day. Elaine’s regaling Brian, Eddie, and Rich with a story about two writers and a feud of accused plagiarism. Lawrence and Roger were currently attempting to turn their napkins into amusing hats for each other. John finds himself enjoying the young band's presence, their chaotic energy seeming to match Queen’s dynamic quite well.

The group collectively jumps as the music drastically raises in volume, the intro of Ray Charles’ ‘Hallelujah, I Love Her So’ pouring out.

“Oh god, no,” Y/N groans next to him as the waiters all turn their attention to her. Dom appears beside her with an outstretched hand. “Papa, not now, please.”

“Indulge your grandfather, Y/N,” he winks at her as she reluctantly takes his hand, pulling her to the middle of the room. John’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as the old man springs to life, twirling his granddaughter around the room with ease. The pure spryness of someone that age was genuinely shocking.

“Oh, this is fabulous!” Freddie laughs as he leans his chin forward on his hands.

And it was. The staff cheers, hinting that this was a familiar routine for them. The rest of The Limbs sing along with the track, watching the two affectionately like old family.

Y/N’s apprehensive look fades away as she gives in to the fun, pure joy flashing across her features as she glides along, following her grandfather in the swing dance rather gracefully. She looks free, John thinks to himself, drinking in the true version of the young woman. She was dazzling as her hair fell messily from her ponytail and her laugh was louder than ever as Dom dips her low to the floor, her body bending with him. If this was home, he could see why she was reluctant to leave it behind.

He’s mesmerized by her every movement. She was still an enigma to him, each detail he pulled from her, just making him hungry for more.

You shouldn’t. You’re still married. Well, technically. Papers aren’t signed yet.

“Alright, I’m convinced,” Roger shouts at Lawrence. “Looks like we'll have to stop in Long Island.”

- - - - - - -

“Fuck, it’s cold,” Brian announces, burrowing further into his white windbreaker.

The Jones Beach Theater was tucked right up to the shoreline, causing the spray of the Atlantic to chill the air despite the summer heat. John had never seen a venue like it. It’s as if the vast sea acted as an extended backdrop to the stage, reflecting the stars and inky drape of the night.

The crowd didn’t seem to mind at all. They had been brilliant the entire night, singing along to every one of the songs and dancing in full force. It was perfectly clear how proud they were of their hometown heroes.

The Limbs themselves were a sight to behold from the wings of the stage. The energy from the packed seats had bled over, and all 5 members were indeed feeling it. They had been in perfect sync with each other the entire show, and John was certainly amused by their own way of interacting with their audience. It mostly consisted of them hurling humorous insults back and forth to each other in between songs.

Even Y/N seemed to be enjoying herself, despite her confession the other night. She had taken Freddie’s note that he’d given after seeing her dance and was now stepping out from behind the mic stand for her songs. She slinked around the stage effortlessly, interacting with the other members and the crowd, much to their glee.

“Before we say goodnight to you all, we’d like to leave you with a little something,” Rich calls out over the deafening cheers. “A lullaby of sorts from one of our favorites.”

Y/N drags a stool out to the center of the stage as Lawrence begins a somber melody on the keyboard. The audiences erupts in cheers and John recognizes it as a Billy Joel song.

She takes a seat behind the mic as she gazes out over the crowd. The exhilarated face she had been sporting all night was gone, a shade of melancholy in its place now.

Goodnight, my angel, time to close your eyes

And save these questions for another day

I think I know what you’ve been asking me

I think you know what I’ve been trying to say

Her hypnotic voice pierces through the now-silent crowd. The type of voice you immediately feel in your chest, as if it’s personally strumming your heartstrings. No one dares to sing along, afraid they'll miss a moment of her inflection.

I promised I would never leave you

Then you should always know

Wherever you may go, no matter where you are

I never will be far away

The familiar sight of lighters being illuminated flickers through the sea of people before them, casting a hazy glow on the previously faceless patrons. Their peaceful stares fixed on Y/N, entranced as if she was siren of sorts.

Goodnight my angel, now it’s time to dream

And dream how wonderful your life will be

Someday your child may cry, and if you sing this lullaby

Then in your heart, there will always be a part of me

Her voice breaks a bit, giving away the glassiness of her eyes. They’re not fixed on the crowd, but instead on the sky beyond them. John watches the panes of her face intently. She wasn’t singing to them, he realizes. This was to herself. Possibly to that image in her mind, she had confided in him, the one she was struggling to leave behind—her piece of home.

Someday we’ll all be gone

But lullabies go on and on

“She’s going to be something else, isn’t she?” Freddie asks, mostly to himself.

They never die

That’s how you and I will be

John watches as a single tear slips off the slope of her nose as she finishes, bowing her head.

“Yeah, I think she is.”

#john deacon #john deacon fic #john deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #john deacon series #angelofmydreams

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hazza-bear-care · 5 years

Text

Babie Crue (3/?)

A/N: This will be the second time I’m writing this because it accidentally got deleted when I went to add tags. I hope this one is more acceptable than the first draft, because guess who didn’t save the first draft.... ME!! I’m so sorry for not only leaving you guys waiting for the third part of this series, but also deleting it on accident. I FINALLY have a new laptop, so hopefully I’ll be able to update everything as soon as possible. Love ya!

Pairings: The Dirt! Motley Crue X OC, Eventual MGK! Tommy Lee X OC, Possible Douglas Booth! Nikki Sixx X OC

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of drug use, smoking, and alcohol. Wowee I’m so pissed at myself for deleting this.

Description: I don’ t remember exactly what happened, but Tommy somehow convinced Doc to let Cam join the Ozzy Osbourne/ Motley Crue tour.

~~~~~~~

“Hey, Doc! This is Cam! She’s a friend of mine from high school!” Tommy screamed over the music blaring through the small apartment.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Cam!” Doc responded holding his hand out for Cam to shake.

“I actually have a question regarding Cam, Doc. I was actually wondering if she and her daughter could join us on tour.” Tommy questioned, ignoring the looks people were throwing in his direction.

“You have a kid?!” Zutaut and Vince yelled, shocked at the revelation.

“Tommy are you serious, man? Look around you! This is not the proper world to bring up a baby in!” Mick yelled. Tommy waved everyone off, staring at Doc and waiting for his reaction. The drummer could see the gears in the manager’s head grinding as he thought.

“Tommy, Gracie and I are fine here. I have a steady job and your parents are angels. I agree with Mick on this,�� Cam argued, suddenly feeling small under everyone’s scrutinous gaze.

“I’m sure Doc could give you a job. Hell, he could probably even pay you better than that shitty restaurant ever could! So, Doc, what do you say?” Tommy defended. The manager turned his attention to Cam, the 20 year old mother gnawing on her lip as her nerves began to get the best of her.

“So you work at a restaurant. How old is your daughter?” Doc asked.

“Grace is almost six months old, Doc.” Cam answered, a slight smile on her face as she thought about her daughter.

“She’s so great, Doc. As low maintenance as babies get, Gracie’s probably the lowest of the low. She’s the cutest little bundle. You’re going to love her, Doc,” Tommy gushed. Cam smiled and furrowed her eyebrows, looking at the other Motley Crue guys in confusion. Nikki and Mick beamed, genuinely surprised with the words coming out of Tommy’s mouth while Vince mimicked vomiting behind Doc’s back.

“I don’t know what I can offer you job wise, but I can very clearly see how much you and Grace mean to Tommy and the rest of the guys. So, pack up your clothes and every diaper you own because you’re coming on tour!” Tommy whooped and wrapped Cam in a hug, spinning the girl around as the other guys joined, a group hug ensuing.

~~~~~~~

Tour life was great so far. Having a baby around actually kept the band in check, much to the surprise of Doc and Tom. The raucous after parties halted past 2 am, Cam’s hotel rooms or bunks on the bus were put on lockdown, and late night booze runs had a few additions: diapers and formula.

In terms of parties, Mick was the most considerate when thinking of Grace. The guitarist would usually opt for a bottle or two of vodka, take his pain meds for his back problems, and then pass out in his room.

Tommy was a close second: the drummer would get buzzed enough to be annoying, add a few bumps of coke to keep his high going for a few hours, and he was done. He usually ended up passed out face down, ass up anywhere he lands when his buzz wears off. Cam found him after he broke his protocol one night, face planted in a pool of his own vomit. Trying not to puke herself, Cam got Tommy cleaned up and back on the bus all while he muttered about how sorry he was and if he woke up Grace at any point in the night.

Nikki and Vince, on the other hand, were intolerable when it came to the parties. There were nights where Vince kept the mother and daughter awake with the screaming coming from his room due to the countless groupies he fucked. Nikki sometimes roped Tommy and Vince into trashing the hotel floors that were rented out for the entire band, banging on walls and doors, screaming “wake up assholes!” as the entire hotel was awoken from their slumber.

There were other times where Nikki and Vince used Grace before and after the shows to rope in their chicks for the evening because according to Vince, “there’s nothing drunk chicks like more than a dude who can handle a baby”, to which Cam rolled her eyes and ripped the baby away from them.

The one thing Cam was cautious about was Ozzy fucking Osbourne. Motley Crue had their sober moments, especially around Grace, but Ozzy could never be sober even if his liver and kidneys depended on it. She knew that Ozzy had children of his own, but she didn’t know how exactly he acted around his children. Cameo always made sure that if Ozzy was around, she or a trusted member of Motley Crue always had an eye on the baby, especially when the older rockstar somehow snatched Grace away from whoever she was with.

Mick and Tommy bounced between watching Cam and Grace, because if at any point Ozzy’ s actions bothered Cam, they would swoop in and take Grace from the drunk singer, making up a bullshit excuse like she needed to be fed or changed. Cam knew she would be eternally grateful for the band and everything they had done for her and Grace, knowing 100% that there would be no way to ever repay them.

~~~~~~~

“Tommy! Get your ass back in this chair!” Ruby, the hair stylist, yelled at Tommy’s retreating back. “Can anyone go get him? Cameo? Mick?” Ruby turned her attention back to Vince as Cam stood and handed Grace and her bottle off to Mick, the vampiric man adapting his demeanor instantly.

Cam left the greenroom, heading in the direction she hoped Tommy had travelled down as well. As she ran down the hall, Tom greeted her.

“Hey, Zutaut! Have you seen Tommy? He ran out before Ruby could do his hair.” Cam ran a hand through her hair, trying to regulate her breathing as she waited for an answer.

“Yeah, actually. Keep going down the hall and head towards the stage. He said he wanted to ‘survey the crowd’. Hey, do you want to go do something with me later? I’m sure the guys wouldn’t mind watching Grace.” Cam rolled her eyes, holding her hand up to Tom’s mouth, ultimately shutting up the spineless record label rep.

“Zutaut, have you ever wondered why I call you buy your last name? Or why I never let you hold my daughter? It’s because I don’t fucking like you. So, kindly stay away from my daughter and I and do your fucking job!” With that, Cam turned and ran towards the stage, leaving Tom stunned in the hall.

Tommy was staring out from behind the curtain, the crowd growing anxious. Cam silently shuffled up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, causing the drummer to jump.

“You good?” Cam asked, silently chuckling at Tommy’s reaction.

“Yeah. Fucking fantastic, Cam.” Tommy mumbled, brushing past her and sitting himself on a sound equipment trunk. Cam joined him and rubbed his back, trying to prevent a mental breakdown from happening.

“What’s wrong, Tommy? You’ve never acted like this before a show.”

“This isn’t just another gig at Whisky, Cam. This is a fucking stadium full of people! What if they hate us? What if we fuck up this show, which will ultimately fuck up our career, and end up breaking up the fucking band?” Tommy muttered, scratching the back of his neck and holding his head in his hands.

“Well, don’t fuck up,” Cam responded, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m serious, Cameo! This isn’t a fucking joke!” Tommy whisper-yelled.

“So am I, Tommy! Look, this is what, your tenth show on this tour? Did you ever stop to consider that if Motley Crue was as shitty as you say, you wouldn’t still be here? Obviously you guys are doing something right, and you’re pretty amazing at it, so just give yourself a little break, okay? Now, come on back to the greenroom so Ruby can do your hair.” Cam stood and took Tommy’s hand, attempting to tug the man into a standing position. When the drummer didn’t move, Cam sighed and quickly sat down again.

“Cam, I’m not too sure I can do this.” Cam kissed Tommy’s shoulder and laid her head on it, quite a scandalous idea popping into her head.

“Hey Tommy? If you come back to the greenroom and patiently let Ruby finish your hair and makeup, I’ll flash you after the show.” With this promise, the drummer perked up and grabbed Cam’s hand, running back to the greenroom as quickly as he had run out of it.

~~~~~~~

“Before we end our show tonight, we’d like to try something new. A couple months ago, a gorgeous friend of Tommy’s popped up with a beautiful baby in her arms. She is now responsible for rounding us up when we get crazy and fucked up, so we would like to end this show with a special song dedicated to our friend Cameo and her daughter Grace!” Vince came to where Cam was standing backstage and dragged her out into public view, the unforgettable chords of Elton John’s “Your Song” beginning to play in the background.

Vince held her close as the band serenaded Cam, the mother a blubbering and sobbing mess. When the song ended, Cam hugged the singer, thanking him silently.

“Don’t thank me sweetheart; thank Tommy. It was his idea.” Nodding, Vince escorted the young mother backstage as roadies began to disassemble what remained of Motley Crue’s set. They all ran to the greenroom, the party beginning instantly.

“Thank you guys so much! It really meant a lot to me,” Cam whined happily, hugging each of them, spending a little extra time in her embrace with Tommy.

“You’re very welcome, sweets. Now, don’t forget about what you promised me earlier, Cameo.” Tommy whispered seductively in Cam’s ear, causing a shiver to roll down her spine. This was going to be a long night.

~~~~~~~

A/N: Again, guys, I am so sorry that this part got deleted. I tried to piece as much of it back together as I could, and I’ m actually happier with this one than the original. I hope you enjoyed it!

Taglist:

@kellysimagines

#motley crue imagine #tommy lee x oc #tommy lee blurb #nikki sixx x oc #tommy lee imagine #motley crue series #vince neil #mick mars #tommy lee #nikki sixx

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cianmars · 6 years

Photo

Pieces of a Puzzle:

Rogers, David, and Mary have been together for ten years and have already have a ten year old daughter, Alice, together.

They all have their own issues and problems, but they’re happy. That being said they feel like something’s missing.

They’re waiting to adopt a baby, the last piece of their family, and only have four months to wait. In the mean time they decide to foster six year old Emma, what they assume is going to be a short stay, before she finds her forever family.

Chapter 3- Two Mornings Two different mornings for the Charmings and Emma Swan

AO3

Kian woke up with a start, covered in cold sweat and his heart beating, he looked for his spouses, he panicked finding he was alone, but when he glanced at the clock he realised why. He had majorly overslept. Well, he guessed that it wasn’t really oversleeping for most people, but usually he would wake up and go for a jog to start his day. He sat up, dragged his hand over his face, he sighed deeply. It had all just been a dream. He grabbed his prosthetic hand from the stand on the bedside table and fastened it on to where his arm had been amputated. It was a part of him, but he could remember how foreign prosthetics felt to wear when he was a child and had first lost his hand, though this one was a million times better, it was almost like a real hand. He moved the hands of the hand, testing it as he always did, he knew he’d be getting a new one soon and although he was looking forward to it, it would be weird to have a completely different hand.

He dragged himself out of bed, wishing he could just skip work and sleep… and hang out with his husband, they didn’t always work together as they weren’t work partners, but they would hang out on their breaks, he missed that time together. He forwent a shower due to the accidental lie in, but quickly washed his face in the en-suite, before getting dressed in his usual dark clothes.

Once dressed he headed down the stairs, he heard Alice shout through her closed bedroom door, having hear him passing by. “Papa! The kid’s coming today!”

He knew better than to distracted Alice when she was meant to be doing something, instead he raced down the stairs, and into the kitchen where he knew his spouses always were in the mornings.

“Morning.” Mary called, jotting something down in her planner for her day teaching.

“Hey.” David was scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, his greeting was more of a habit than an actual greeting.

“Uh, hey.” Kian was still frowning in confusion. “Al said that the kid’s coming today?”

Mary took a long sip of her latte and nodded as she swallowed. “Yeah, Dave answered the call from Matilda at about seven,” she took another sip of her coffee and checked her watch, “the doctors are going to discharge her today, Matilda asked if we’d be able to take her in today.”

“Let me guess, if not she was going to have to take her to a children’s home.” He already knew the answer before his husbands head bobbed. “Did I do something?” He joked, nodding his head towards David who hadn’t looked up from his list at all, Kian poured himself a big mug of coffee.

“David’s trying to make a list of the things we need to get for Emma,” Mary said in a stage whisper, “he’s kind of stressing.”

“There’s a lot we don’t have,” David pointed out, “we’ve never fostered a kid her age, and normally we’re all home for when we got the foster kid. We all have tomorrow off which is when we were going to get stuff sorted.”

The detective placed his hand on his husband’s back, usually he’d take the mick out of David, but he wasn’t quite in the mood to. “Better than with Alice, we had no preparation with her, just suddenly a baby on the doorstep.” Just then their daughter walked through the doorway, in her school uniform, running around trying to get ready for school. “You only have one shoe on, Starfish.” He pointed out gently.

Mary placed her hand on the top of her daughter’s head to get her to pause and focus on just her for a second. “Sweetheart, you need to go find your other shoe and grab your bag, we’re all running late this morning, I’ll grab you a slice of toast and you can eat it on the way or while you hang out in my classroom.”

“Mare, I’ll take her, love.” Kian said, he placed his hand on her back as he leant down and kissed her lips, as he did he felt his nightmare start to wash away like marks in the sand as he felt the love of his new family. “Just worry about you being ready, I’ll make sure Starfish has more than a slice of toast, I’ll take her to school on my way to work.” he dropped a kiss onto the top of Alice’s blonde head. “What do you say, Starfish, is Papa’s car a worthy chariot?”

“Yeah!” Alice beamed, and she jumped up and down, her papa’s car was probably the coolest out of her parents’ cars.

“You still have to go on your booster seat, it’s the law! Go find your shoe quickly, sweetie, then Papa will make you some breakfast. I love you and I’ll see you in school.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead and she received a tight hug in return.

“I love you mommy.” Alice told her. “Are you sure I can’t just skip and go with Daddy?” She pouted, she looked back to David, but he obviously hadn’t heard.

“Nope, sorry, but when you get home you’ll have a new little foster sister- just remember we have to be careful around her, she’ll probably be scared, and she’s poorly.”

“I’ll help look out for her.” Alice told her mom with a smile, as though it would be that easy. She hugged her tight again. “I’ll see you at school mommy.” She raced off in search of the errant shoe.

“I miss you being in uniform.” Mary turned to Kian as Alice left the room, she placed her hand on David’s back and started to rub circles on it as she talked to their husband, she was a little worried about how stressed he seemed, but then she hadn’t stopped worrying about him since he had been shot. “You didn’t used to drive your old Camaro when you were in uniform.”

“Oh please, we all know it’s because I made that uniform work, like really well, much better than Davey.” He looked over at David waiting for him to protest, just David was deep in his thoughts as he stared at the list. “I got this.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and made one for David.

Mary sighed gently and quickly started to pack her things into her bag, including her lunch, and grabbed the bag with the marked homework in it, she couldn’t forget that.

“Dave.” Kian waited for his husband to look up before he handed him the mug of coffee, made just how David liked it, with a lot of creamer and sugar. “Coffee will make sure you’re not grumpy today.” He smirked at David’s playful scowl but he ran his hand through his husbands dirty-blond hair before gently kissing his lips, he didn’t even realise that he had now forgotten his nightmare completely. The list is perfect, just make sure we have what she’ll need for tonight and tomorrow, we’ll go shopping tomorrow with the little one while Alice is at school.”

Mary picked up her bags ready to go then walked over to David. She placed her hand on either of his cheeks, before gently kissing his lips, she pulled away but she didn’t let go of the cheeks. “You need to stop worrying, she will absolutely love you, she won’t hate you at all. I’m sure. Call me later.” She pecked his lips again. “Remember to make sure you write down all her medical things and ask Matilda for her clothes size and-“

“And everything else possible?” Kian asked with a sarcastic smile.

David cracked a mischievous smile as he wrote it down on the list. “Okay, I got ‘everything possible’ on the list, anything else?” He added sounding angelic.

“Okay, he’s back to normal now.” Mary rolled her eyes but she was relieved. “Okay I’m going to go, I’ll see you two after work, I love you both.”

“Bye babe.”

“Love you too.” They called.

When Alice got downstairs (with two shoes on her feet now) the three quickly ate breakfast and gathered all they needed for the day. Alice was so excited she could barely sit still, she kept talking about all the things she was going to do with her foster sister, and asking how long she would be staying.

David still felt guilty about not being able to take his daughter to school. “I’m sorry, Princess, I would take you but the hospital your foster sister’s in is on the other side of the city, and I’ve gotta get there as soon as possible.”

“I could come with you.” Alice offered hopefully, she dumped her plate into the dishwasher and placed her lunch into her bag.

David shot her his charming smile, dumping his and Kian’s plates into the dishwasher and turning it on, Kian tidied up the place. “As much as I would love that, you mommy would kill me, and Emma needs a little time to get used to being with us. We’re strangers to her and she’s been really poorly but I’m sure that having you here will help her a lot.”

Kian placed his hand on Alice’s shoulder and led her out of the house, David followed them. Both men picked up their house and car keys on the way out.

“I’ll try not to be weird around her,” Alice promised, “then she might like this place. Maybe she’ll even like me.”

It broke her fathers’ hearts to hear her sound so hopeful while putting herself down.

“Hey,” David crouched down to look her in the eyes, “you are not weird and you shouldn’t feel ashamed of yourself.”

“Never, ever, change yourself to make yourself fit in with other people, Starfish.” Kian added stroking her cheek. “She’ll like you for who you are. Let me tell you a little secret- all the best people are a little different, if we were all the same the world would be a very, very boring place. Please never let being scared of what others think change you.”

“You’re the most important girl in our entire world, and nothing is going to change that, Princess, you’re always going to be our number one.”

“Until you get a baby.”

David shared a panicked and silent conversation with his husband. “Erm… what do you mean?”

“I’m not a little kid, I’m ten, and I’m good at finding things out.” She shrugged but she was fighting a proud smile over not having been seen or heard. “Is Emma still gonna be here when we get the baby?”

“Nah,” Kian threw his arm around her shoulder, “she’ll have her own family by then. Are you okay with us adopting a baby?”

“We were going to tell you, Al, all of us together, a little closer to the time – when we knew more about it.”

“Chill.” Alice grinned. “I can’t wait! I hope it’s a boy. Is it gonna be a boy? Can I hold it first? Can I name it?”

“Chill.” David mouthed to Kian: Their little girl was growing up way too fast, she was already a pre-teen, it felt like a day ago she was still having tantrums. “How about we talk about this with mommy later? We don’t know too much but we’ll talk about it all, the new baby, and us looking after Emma for a little while. Now, I’ve gotta go, I love you.” He kissed Alice’s forehead. “And I love you.” He pulled his husband closer and kissed him. “Thank you for this morning, Kee.”

The three people split into two groups and went their separate ways.

In a hospital, about an hour away, Emma sat fidgeting in the hospital bed as a doctor checked her temperature and listened to her chest

“I hear you’re a very luckily and you get to break out of here today.”

Emma shrugged her shoulders, her toyed with her handmade blanket, she needed to pack it safely in her beat up backpack which held all her other worldly possessions. “I guess.” She knew Matilda had said they were nice, but her last social worker had said all the other places were nice, she was old enough now to know that adults fundamentally sucked and couldn’t be trusted.

The doctor frowned, he didn’t like to see the girl so down, he reached into his lab coat pocket and pulled out a handful of things. “You’ve been my favourite patient here, you’ve been very good, I’m sure that you are going to find a very good family soon, I’m willing to bet on it. I got you a few leaving presents.” He passed her a small pot of bubbles, a few lollypops, and a small pot of jam like she usually got with her breakfast. “I’ll swing by and talk to you when your new foster parents get here.” He ruffled her hair before continuing on his rounds.

Emma smiled at the gifts, she held them to her heart, then hid them at the bottom of her backpack, it was where she had hidden any and all sealed food she had got since she had turned up in the hospital, just in case. She had spent too long being starved to not prepare. She buried her blanket in her backpack and pulled out the Matilda book her social worker had given her.

She started to read.

#The Charmings #Charming Family Fic #Daddy Charming #Mama Snow #Charming babies #David Nolan #Prince Charming #Mary Margaret Blanchard #Snow White #Emma Swan #ouat #ouat fic #fic #detective rogers #Kian Charming #Detective Snowing #Alice charming #alice jones

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