anyway the wind blows [queen x reader]

six.

Warnings: swearing, some angst, that P*ul Pr*nt*r scene ew

Rockfield Farm, 1975

"Recording studio?" Roger said, looking around the farm with a puzzled gaze.

"Well, the idea was to get away from all distractions," Paul replied, grabbing the suitcases from the trunk.

As you all entered the little house that you will all be staying in, you all followed Paul up the stairs to head to your rooms.

"Right, I know it's not the Ritz. Not even close," Paul pointed to the first door to the left, "Roger, you're in here."

"Right," Roger sighed, entering the door before Paul continued, "(Y/N), this is you. Biggest room," He smiled, as you passed him to enter your room.

"Brian, that's you. John, you're downstairs." He said, as he gestured John to follow him.

As soon as you settled into your bedroom, you immediately grabbed your notebook and sat by the window.

You've been working on a song lately, and it was for B- Matthew. As cliche as it sounds, it was very difficult to write since words cannot express how much you loved Matthew.

Thinking of all the memories you've shared with him, you immediately scribbled on the paper, feeling tears fill your eyes.

Chuckling lightly as you thought of a line, your hand shakes as you start to breathe in deeply, trying not to get too emotional.

But, you did.

Leaning back onto your seat with a small smile, "Oh, that's really good," You sniffed.

As you tried to finish the song, you finally let it all out, tears dropping onto the paper.

Love of my life, you've hurt me

You've broken my heart

And now you leave me

Love of my life, can't you see?

Bring it back, bring it back

Bring it back, bring it back

Don't take it away from me

Because you don't know

What it means to me

When your fingers stopped dancing along the black and white keys, you swore you felt tears rushing through your eyes again.

Trying to ignore it, you leaned over the table next to you and took some notes.

"It's beautiful," Paul said, sitting down on the seat not far from the piano.

He stood up from his position and walked towards you, "What's it called?"

"Love of My Life. I wrote it for Matthew," You smiled, the brunette coming into your mind again.

"If you say so," Paul replied, before taking another drag and reaching over you to extinguish the cigarette on the ashtray near you.

As you took some more notes, clearly aware of the very close proximity between you and Paul, you felt his heavy breathing and gaze on you.

Shrugging it off, you just continued to write until you suddenly felt a pair of lips smash themselves against yours.

As your lips moved against each other for far too long, you pulled away quickly, your hand on his chest, but not pushing away.

His hand squeezed your shoulder, as he looked down on you with an almost hungry gaze.

You looked up at him, biting your lip before letting out a chuckle, "Don't, don't misunderstand, Paul," You shook your head, "Matthew knows me in a way that no one else ever will."

Paul pulled your chin up to look towards him, "I know you, (Y/N) Mercury."

"Is that what you think? Oh no, you don't know me," You smirked, pulling his hand away from your chin, "You just see what you want to see."

"We work together, that's all."

The next morning

"What does that even mean, 'not strong enough'?" Roger fumed, before you walked into the kitchen.

"I know I'm late, what did I miss?" You asked, as you walked over beside John, grabbing a cup of coffee.

"Discussing Roger's car song," John sighed, before Brian added, "Is it strong enough? That's all I'm asking. If I'm on my own here, then I apologize," He held his hands up.

Roger looked at each of them in disbelief before pointing over to Brian, "How does your new song go then, hm?"

After he hastily grabbed the paper in front of Brian, "You call me sweet... like I'm some kind of cheese."

"It's good," Brian nodded, before Roger barked, "Wow!"

"When my hand's on your grease gun...That's very subtle isn't it?" Brian read out loud from Roger's lyrics.

You and John were just trying hard not to laugh at these two idiots argue over their songs.

"It's a metaphor, Brian!" Roger argued before John replied, "It's just a bit weird, Roger, what exactly are you doing with that car?"

"Children, please. We can all murder each other but then who would be left to record this album?" You disputed, putting down your coffee on the table.

"Statistically speaking, most bands don't fail, they break up," John added.

"Why the hell would you say something like that?" You looked at John with a frown, before he shrugged.

"Roger, there's only room in this band for one hysterical queen," You stated, before taking a box of cigarettes and leaving the room.

As soon as you left the room, you already heard plates and glasses breaking, Roger screaming, which was totally normal.

"Not the coffee machine!"

Chuckling to yourself, you shook your head because you didn't get to see what was happening in the kitchen once you left.

As you walked through the farm, you let all the sights in, breathing in the smell of grass and cold air.

After taking a drag, you began to walk more until you reached the house, mind immediately switching on the sound of that tune that you played for Matthew for the first time.

Throwing away the cigarette, you immediately walked towards the house and went inside.

Goodbye, everybody

I've got to go

Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth

Mama, ooh, ooh, ooh

I don't wanna die

I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all

Gasping as your fingers paused on the keys, you let out a breath and laughed softly to yourself,

This is it.

Bonus:

This was it. This was the song.

You let out a chuckle, immediately grabbing your notebook and started writing down notes for this new song.

As you were scribbling, your door suddenly slammed open to reveal John with a clearly frustrated expression.

"Roger locked himself in the cupboard."