Roger Taylor X Reader - Blog Posts

Roger Taylor Pregnancy Headcanons/ Timeline (Part 4: Labor and Delivery)

A/N: So I know like nothing about like birth and all that, so if this is like way off, awful, or inaccurate, I’m trying my best. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!!!- C

(Requests are o-p-e-n!!!!!!)

For the last few weeks, things were quiet and relaxing

But one afternoon as you sat watching tv with Roger, you felt pains in your lower abdomen

So when you said to Roger that you were having contractions, that tranquility was broken very quickly

Roger got up so fast you though he would surely break an ankle

He was running around like a chicken with its head cut off

He was getting your bag and the baby’s bag and he was calling people who were wanted at the hospital

He barely noticed you struggling to get your shoes on and make your way to the car

You figured you’d have enough time to wait for Roger to notice you were gone before you really had to be at the hospital

It soon struck Roger that he was forgetting something...you

So he naturally panicked for a few minutes when he couldn’t find you, then realized you were probably already in the car

The drive to the hospital was full of stress (for Roger)

And so was getting out of the car

And so was walking into the hospital

And so was signing into the hospital

And so was getting to your room

And so was talking to the doctor

If you can’t tell by now, Roger was stressed

You were honestly relaxed

It was probably the fact that you could look over at Roger and see that he was having a far worse mental breakdown than you were

So you just sat and patiently waited for the guys and your parents to arrive

Doctors and visitors came through continually

When your contractions started getting worse, you practically had Roger’s hand in a death grip

You could see Roger’s pained face as he tried not to pull away from you

This continued on and off and each time Roger’s attempts not to let go of you got better and better

Mentally you were laughing hysterically at him

In reality, you were using some rather colorful language in Roger’s direction

Like just imagine, your in the middle of a contraction and your telling your lovely boyfriend some rather violent things that you would do after you had the baby

And the guys walk in, freeze for a moment, and just leave as quietly as possible in terror of your wrath

When you were told that you had to start pushing, Roger basically had an aneurysm

“You’re doing great Y/N.”

“I love you darling.”

“We’re going to have a baby soon.”

He wouldn’t shut up

So when you turned to him and said “Roger...shut the fuck up. I am pushing a human being out of me and it would be so lovely if you could get your head out of your ass and be a nice, silent, comforting boyfriend.”

The complete horror that struck his face did give you some comfort

As soon as the doctor showed you your baby, both of you realized you’d never been happier

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you love,” Roger whispered to you as he pressed a kiss to your forehead

“All the stress and panic was so worth it.”

“Y/N, I didn’t know you were so stressed sweetheart.”

“Oh no, I meant dealing with your stress and panic was worth it.”

At that moment all that mattered to you was your family

You had only just met this perfect little person and you loved them more than anything

Attention: Please Read 👇

(So if y’all liked this, you should request some more stuff. I love hearing your ideas and I’ve finally started writing a new series. So, I’ll need some stuff to post while I’m writing that. I’m also happy to answer submissions that are just blurbs or literally venting about how fucking amazing Queen and 5sos are 😊. -C)

Roger Taylor Pregnancy Headcanons/Timeline

(Part 3: The Pregnancy)

A/N: So this took forever. I have not written at all and now I’m on winter break. However, I have been with family and I don’t really like to write around people. So, writing is very difficult with a constantly full house. Thank you for your patience, here it is.

First Trimester:

Roger would 10/10 be protective

In the first trimester he would constantly be worried about you

He would be very specific about what other people could eat around you (for fear of you getting sick)

He insisted that you do no vigorous activity because he didn’t want you to get hurt

Plus, you thought he was overly jealous and protective before you got pregnant?

Now someone could look at you oddly and he was ready to snap their neck

He was so excited for you to grow a bump and he would almost always (consciously or unconsciously) have a hand on your stomach

He was always so excited and told just about anyone he could

Second Trimester

After around the 4 month mark, the pregnancy really started to sink in

You guys were going to have a baby to take care of in less than 6 months

However, this never stopped him from being ecstatic about starting a family with you

You guys didn’t end up finding out the gender yet ( A/N: I didn’t want to limtit y’all. Pick whatever you want.)

Even though Roger argued with you, you wanted to be surprised

Your mood swings were so abrupt and aggressive that Roger could barely keep up with them

Being the drama queen that he is, Roger would just end up in whatever mood you were in and I t was not pretty when this occurred

He also practically worshipped your bump

He loved it

He would talk to it all the time and would always have a hand on it

You guys started baby shopping around this time and he couldn’t figure out for the life of him why it was that furniture was so difficult to put together

“It’s for such a small person, why must it be so complicated?”

Roger really just couldn’t wait for your baby to arrive

Third Trimester

When the guys decided that you didn’t already have enough baby things, they took a little shopping trips

Having 3 grown men show up randomly at your home with huge bags of baby things was quite a shock to you

Especially because they showed up around 7 in the morning

Things happening at odd hours became normal during this time

Everyone suddenly got more protective of you (if that was even possible)

Roger would barely let you leave the house

And if he decided you were able to escape that day, he would have one of the guys or your friends be with you at all times

All in all, Roger was a nervous wreck

He was going to be a parent and he was going mental about how bad of a dad he might be

He constantly made sure that you were happy, comfortable, and fed

He painted and decorated the baby’s room, he packed the hospital bag

He wouldn’t even let you leave the couch without assistance

Roger felt as though he had to prove himself in some way

When he finally came home crying one day, he told you how terrified he was about not knowing what to do

“Rog, you’ve overworking yourself because you have no clue about being a parent? No one knows exactly what to do with a first kid. You can’t excpect so much out of yourself, it’s too much pressure.”

“God I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Roger calmed down about proving himself as a father

However, he didn’t stop being over protective of you (bless your patience)

You know the saying “calm before the storm”

Yeah well that applied perfectly to your scenario

Because you see, once you told Roger that you were having contractions

All hell broke loose

Roger Taylor Pregnancy Headcanons/Timeline

(Part 2: Telling Family)

A/N: So I’m hoping to be working on another series soon. 😉😉 It’s probably going to be an oc fic and I’m really excited so... Anyway here’s part 2. Requests are open!!!!!

You and Roger have known about the baby for almost a month now

And you have yet to tell anyone

You two have been talking about ways to tell the guys but you just can’t seem to get it right

Every time you’ve tried to tell them, one of you chokes at the last second or something else gets in the way of your announcement

One day Roger invites you to the studio to listen to them record

You had been particularly nauseous that day and the guys had noticed

They kept asking if you were ok and it was starting to piss you off, because technically yes you were fine, you felt sick but it wasn’t the time to tell them why

That combined with your mood swings bothered you to no end

And when you were pissed off, Roger was pissed off

About halfway through the day you and Roger were 5 seconds from exploding

So when Brian asked for the 5th time that day if you were ok, Roger lost it

“Actually Brian, Y/N is fine, we’re both wonderful actually. Every fucking time we’ve tried to tell you the good news something got in the way.”

“Roger what are you talking about?” Brian asked.

“Y/N’s pregnant.”

It had all happened so...awfully

You had been waiting to tell them in the most fantastic way, but hey, the secret was out

They all immediately got up and hugged you and Rog

Congratulations we’re heard all around the studio

Freddie talked about how much he was going to spoil the baby

Brian already said he’d keep the kid from becoming a complete nightmare (knowing you two)

Now that you had told the rest of the band, you and Roger finally felt some relaxation

Until you realized you still had to tell your parents

You didn’t really want to be driving all over the country at the time

What was the best way to get your families in one place at one time?

In true Roger fashion, he decided on a party

You managed to get a hold of everyone and were able to set the party for a week later

You’d already had multiple people ask if you wanted a drink and you obviously denied them all

Your mother was starting to become suspicious

You never passed on a glass of wine

When the party was coming to its end, Roger stood up

“Excuse me everyone, could I have your attention for one moment. We never really gave a reason for this party so we might as well tell you now...Y/N’s pregnant!!!!”

Before the end of the party you had gotten many hugs, handshakes, and promised of gifts from family

You looked over from where you were standing to see Roger smiling at you

How did you get so lucky?

Can u plzzzz write something about Ben!Rog where it's a timeline of the reader and him going through pregnancy? Like when she found out she was pregnant all the way up to delivering the baby? It's all over the place but I'd love for u to write it♥️

Roger Taylor Pregnancy Headcanons/Timeline (Part 1: Telling Roger)

A/N: I really love this idea. I haven’t had like any time to write in the last two weeks so even though this isn’t the whole thing, I wanted to post something. So, I had an idea to kind of split up the headcanons into like periods. I will get the whole concept done, especially since my winter break starts next week!!!!!!!😎 -C

PS: Requests Are Open.

So when you found out you were pregnant, you thought Roger was going to freak out.

You weren’t planning on kids at all and you thought that with his career and all, he wouldn’t want it.

You made sure to go to the doctor and everything just so that you could be sure.

About two weeks after finding out, Roger was due home in an hour and you decided it was the night to tell him.

You weren’t sure how yet but tonight was the night.

When he walked in the door, you just went for it...sort of.

“Hey Rog.”

“Hello love.”

He kissed you on the forehead and moved toward the living room.

“Say Roger, what’ll you be doing in oh I don’t know, 9 months?”

“I don’t know, why do you ask?”

Ok. Just try again.

“I don’t I just thought there may be a new addition that we’d make in about 9 months.”

“Like to the house?”

How was he still not connecting the dots here?

“No Roger, I’m pregnant.”

Well that was one way to convey your message. In a very very blunt way.

But then, he started laughing.

“That was funny Y/N. I really thought you were pregnant for a minute.”

“I am.”

You handed him the papers from the doctor and the test.

Silence fell over the room as Roger’s eyes widened and a slight look of panic took over his face.

“You’re really not kidding are you.”

He was searching your serious expression for any sign of you cracking a smile or holding in a laugh.

“No.”

He stood up and for a moment you thought he was going to leave.

You thought you were going to be left alone to raise this child, when suddenly he wrapped his arms around you and picked you up.

“I’m going to be a father!!!”

He was happy. You could relax.

“I love you so much Y/N.”

“You’re not mad?”

“How could I be? You already do so much for me and now you’re giving me a baby. My life couldn’t be any better.”

That night when you went to bed, as you were cuddling with Roger, your dreams couldn’t help but be filled with the giggles of a baby and your future happy family.

Taglist: @dontfollowmegoaway @sherlokiantheatrenerd @lets-get-saucie @hesvoid34 @magicwithaknife @alien-alibii @winchestergirl907 @coffeeaddict201 @shishterfackisback

Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader

Anon: Heyyyy since you are taking requests, I’ve been wanting to see a Ben!roger x reader when he tells her that Freddie has been diagnosed with AIDS and how they cope together

A/N: So this is gonna be real sad, just prepare.

3rd person POV

As soon as Y/N saw the clock strike 1 am, she knew something was wrong. Roger was never home past 12:50 unless she was with him. Where was he?

She called the guys’ houses. No answer. She called the studio. They had left earlier.

She waited for hours until she heard the front door open. There were some loud footsteps and what sounded like furniture shifting. Y/N got off of the couch where she had been sitting, only to have Roger stumble around the corner.

She couldn’t figure out if he was drunk or tired or both. But, when Roger wrapped his arms around Y/N, she could see tears running down his face. He could barely keep himself standing. A sobbing Roger was not a common sight.

Y/N dragged Roger to the couch as best she could. She couldn’t stand seeing him like this. His slumped form on the couch still shook as he cried.

Sitting down on the couch, Y/N leaned into Roger and let him lay his head on her shoulder. From the moment Y/N sat down, Roger held onto her and wouldn’t let go.

“Rog love, do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I-he-it was just...”

“You never cry Rog, what’s wrong?”

Roger could barely get out a word without a sob racking body.

“It’s Fred.”

“Oh.”

“He’s...he’s got it.”

“What?”

“He’s sick Y/N.”

She wasn’t expecting that. Poor Freddie. Now not only was Roger crying, Y/N was beginning to let a few tears fall.

She could have tried being strong for Freddie and for Roger, but she too let herself collapse into Roger and cry.

“Y/N he’s got to get better. He just has to. I know he will.”

Y/N didn’t answer. They both knew the truth. But in that moment it was just quiet. It was better to be quiet.

They didn’t have to accept it yet.

“I’m so sorry Rog.”

“I am too love.”

They knew he wasn’t getting better. They feared the inevitable. But rather than discussing anything, they just held each other and didn’t let go. They never wanted to let go.

Could u pleaseeee write something where Rog finds out the Reader's pregnant for himself and he's all mad (and sad cause she didn't tell him) and they fight but then it ends all fluffy plzzzz

Roger’s POV

Something was up with Y/N. She had been avoiding me for a few weeks now. She was asleep when I got home at night and up and out of the house in the morning.

I was left to wonder what I’d done wrong. Was she cheating on me? Was she breaking up with me?

I was didn’t want to lose her. I was going to find out sooner or later, why couldn’t she just tell me?

Time skip...

I was happy to be home after a long hard recording session.

I had headed upstairs to shower and realized there was no soap. I was looking for some in Y/N’s drawer when something caught my eye. A plastic stick with a plus sign. If this is what I think it is...

“Y/N, love.”

No answer.

“Y/N.”

I moved her shoulder slightly and she started to wake up.

“Rog? I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Y/N is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

“No, why.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

She kept denying that anything was going on.

“Why are you lying to me?! You’ve been ignoring me for weeks! What did I do?! You haven’t spoken to or so much as looked at me!”

“Roger stop yelling at me.”

“No! You have been treating me like I don’t matter and all because you couldn’t tell me you were pregnant!”

(This was when he knew, he fucked up.)

“Why do you say that?”

She looked scared. I immediately felt guilt wash over me and I regretted yelling at her.

“Darling I found the test. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

I think sudden change in tone confused her slightly and it took her a moment to reply.

“We’ve never talked about kids, hell we’re not even married. I didn’t think you’d want a baby.”

“I wish you had told me earlier, I wouldn’t have been angry with you. I was actually pissed that you kept it from me for this long.”

I was disappointed in myself for making her think in any way that I wouldn’t be happy about a mini Y/N or mini me running around.

“Darling, I love you. I’m thrilled that we’re going to have a baby.”

“You are?”

“Of course.”

“I’m relieved. I couldn’t hide it for too long. I’m already about 2 months.”

I was going to be a father. How amazing was that?

I laid on the bed and pulled Y/N to my chest as I started playing with her hair.

“So Rog...how long do you think we can go without the boys noticing?”

“Mmmm I don’t know. At least 3 weeks.”

“Bet?”

“Of course. We’ll figure out the winnings later love,” I laughed.

I loved how she could go from upset to happy in such a short time.

We talked for a little longer about baby things and such before I realized she had drifted off to sleep.

I kissed her forehead and whispered, “ I love you two so much,” before closing my own eyes.

I couldn’t be any happier at the moment.

“Uh Oh”

Request: Hi! I was wondering if you could do like a fun day with the boys (BoRhap cast as their characters) and Roger brings the person he likes? They could be doing any number of things like studio or movie or something. Basically just fluff all around (Thank you sooooo much @graceelizabeth2 !!!!!)

A/N: THIS IS LITERALLY ALL FLUFF JUST A WARNING. ITS ALL LIKE DOMESTIC AND CUTE!!!!(Also if you guys want like an oc or something just tell me, I basically use the reader as a default) - C

It was Y/N’s first time meeting the rest of the band. Of course she was nervous, she was meeting one of the biggest bands in the world. However, she was faced with another factor; Roger’s reputation.

Roger never really had serious relationships, so when he finally admitted that he wanted to keep seeing Y/N, she was shocked to say the least.

Obviously his band mates knew of his new “friend” as soon as Roger let the word “girlfriend” slip out of his mouth.

Roger had been hesitant to let Y/N meet his friends and he always managed to make up some excuse as to why she couldn’t go. Roger knew his friends could be...interesting and he didn’t want them to scare off someone he really cared for.

On the other hand, Y/N didn’t want the rest of the band to hate her. She already wasn’t part of a famous crowd, it would be easy for Roger to drop her if she didn’t fit in.

Walking into the studio felt as if she was walking into another world.

Roger guided Y/N to the correct room and kept his hand on her lower back as they entered.

Immediately, the three other members of the band lifted their heads to see Roger and Y/N walk in.

Their smirks already told Y/N that she was in for one hell of a day.

Y/N came to learn in a matter of minutes that Freddie was rather theatrical (what an understatement), Brian was the most sensible out of the band (though he was still very sarcastic), and Deaky was quiet and extremely cheeky.

“Roger aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend???”

Freddie was grinning at Roger and Y/N could tell he was trying to push her boyfriend’s buttons.

“This is Y/N. Be nice.”

“Hello darling, wonderful to meet you I’m Freddie.”

“Brian.”

“Please call me Deacy.”

She felt uncomfortable. She didn’t exactly know how to act. Y/N always wanted people to like her and when meeting new people, she was extremely careful about how she presented herself.

“Now Roger, since you’re already late, later than Freddie even, you’ll be recording first.”

“Brian I bet you’re just making me do that so you can interrogate my girlfriend.”

“Of course he is, how dare you suggest any different.”

This only solidified what Y/N had already thought about the boys.

As the day went on, Y/N became more comfortable and started making friends with the other guys.

“Y’know Rog, we like her. Much better than other girls you’ve let speak to us.”

Brian was right. Roger’s past flings had been rude to and really quite dumb. Y/N was sweet and could actually have an insightful conversation, as well as make very snide and sarcastic comments.

Roger was now sitting on the couch next to Y/N and he could tell she was more relaxed.

“I told you that there was nothing to worry about love,” Roger whispered.

“I like your friends. They’re definitely more um...”

“Yeah. I know they’re a lot.”

I leaned into his shoulder and he kissed my forehead. But Roger was Roger and he lifted my chin and left pecks all over my face and neck, avoiding my lips.

“Roger stop making out with Y/N and maybe, oh I don’t know, help with the recording.”

Y/N knew this was the beginning of a very interesting chapter in her life.

Imagine where the reader is calming down her now drunk boyfriend at a pub (B.H. Roger Taylor) from getting into a bar fight because another guy “flirted” or “touched” you. Angst and FLUFF xxoxoxo

(A/N: Thank you for requesting @inlovewithmybicycle 😊😊😊. Also, I feel like this around the beginning of Queen, so just go with it 😂.)

(P.s. Also low key kinda proud of my self cause I wrote this in like half an hour.)

-C

Y/N’s POV

Roger is such a baby when he’s drunk. He’s prone to having temper tantrums, screaming and yelling, and even throwing things. So, when Roger has decided to throw a punch at some guy at the bar, I knew I had to step in.

You see, Roger had wandered off and because I wasn’t too worried that he would get into trouble, I went to go get another drink.

As I was waiting for my drink, an obviously intoxicated man came up to me and started hitting on me. (I’m mean who wouldn’t y’all are gorgeous af). I had dealt with this type of situation before, so I knew to just ignore the guy and reject his advances. Everything was fine until the creep decided to grab my hips and try and kiss me.

It was almost as if an alarm went off in my head telling me Roger was coming and I could tell he was not happy.

Suddenly the man was pulled from me by my boyfriend. Roger had a raised fist and was gripping the guy by the collar of his shirt.

Knowing the consequences of the fight I yanked on Roger’s raised arm, letting him know I wanted to leave.

He looked between me and the stranger for a few moments before deciding to drop him.

He directed me towards the exit and through the crowd that had congregated around the expected fight.

“Did he hurt you Y/N?”

“Rog I’m fi-“

“God, if I had the chance, that jackass would be 6 feet under ground by now.”

Roger was red in the face and his heavy breathing and pacing wasn’t helping calm his fury.

I walked over to him and placed both of my hands on his shoulders in an attempt to get him to stop for a second.

He looked at me with soulful eyes and I couldn’t help but melt under his gaze. He just wanted me to be safe, but he always toook things to extremes.

“Roger, I’m fine. Nothing I’ve never seen or heard before.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

His words were slurring and I could tell that the alcohol was catching up with him.

“I just don’t want people talking to you like that or touching you, especially the touching part. I’m the only one that can do that stuff. You’re mine.”

I leaned in to his chest and wrapped my arms around him and he rested his chin on my head.

“You’re just trying to protect me and I understand that, but I wish you wouldn’t take things so far Rog.”

“I would do anything for you, love. Even if it meant causing a little mayhem.”

I laughed slightly at that comment knowing it was probably true. Also knowing Roger, there would always be mayhem involved.

“I love you Y/N.”

It sounded like heaven coming from his mouth. Every time he said it, I could hear angels sing.

“I love you too.”

He may be a drunk idiot, but he’s my drunk idiot.

I May Be Dumb, But I’m Not Stupid (Part 3)

[Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader]

Read Parts 1 & 2 First!!!!!!!!!

A/ N: First of all sorry this took so long. I’ve had a very busy week and a half and I had like zero time to just sit and write. This is also the last part in this series ☹️, so I’m going to try and start on other imagines and such. If you guys have any requests for imagines, headcanons, concepts, or blurbs, I will definitely try to work on them.-C

(P.s. Sorry this first series was super short but, it’s my first time writing so 🤷‍♀️.)

Y/N’s POV

Roger’s fist had connected with the guy’s nose before I could even move.

“Why are you bothering her? Did he do anything to you Y/N?”

Roger couldn’t just shut his mouth. I knew he was tipsy and that wasn’t helping his judgement but, he had to go and have one of his little meltdowns at the worst possible time.

I placed my hand against Roger’s chest in hopes that it would somehow calm his rage.

It did not.

The guy, whose name I didn’t even know yet, already had a bloody nose and the look of terror on his face told me he wasn’t going to put up much of a fight against Roger.

Roger then proceeded to threaten the guy with so many injuries that I lost count and after several more attempts to both physically and verbally attack, Brian and I managed to drag Rog away from the bar we had been standing at.

I then decided that it would just be easier to take Roger home and by that I mean he was already dragging me towards the exit as I gave John, Brian, and Freddie a nervous smile.

I didn’t know what Roger was going to do. Usually his actions were predictable but right now, I was panicking. There were three possible scenarios; Roger decides he’s in the mood, Roger goes on a rant and starts yelling until he gets tired, or (my worst nightmare) he finally decides to cut me loose.

Roger’s POV

I was beyond livid. How dare she talk to him and expect that I wouldn’t be angry. Does she not care how I feel? All I want is to be with her and she decides to stomp all over my feelings and let another guy buy her a drink.

The short walk to the hotel was silent and my grip on Y/N had not loosened,I couldn’t let her (literally and metaphorically) slip away from me.

As soon as the hotel room door was shut, something inside me snapped.

“Who was that guy? Was he flirting with you? Was he bothering you? Why didn’t you come find me? I don’t want you talking to guys like that. I was worried. I don’t like you talking to other guys period. Eventually something bad is gonna happen, I’m just trying to pro-“

“Fuck you Roger.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You act like your so perfect, like you don’t mess around with other girls. Did you ever stop to think that you’re not always the victim! You think I like you talking to other girls? I hate it.”

I was stunned. I had no response. I never knew she felt that way. I didn’t know she even cared. I wanted to apologize immediately and tell her I only wanted to be with her, but my stupid ego got in the way.

“So you’re saying that it’s my fault girls can’t resist me?”

“You self-centered idiot, I’m saying I’m jealous! There I admitted it. I don’t like you being with other girls because I get jealous. I know that our whole ‘relationship’ isn’t exclusive but, every time you leave with one of your groupies who’s not me, I can’t help but want to beat them to a pulp.”

“Oh.”

Fuck. I couldn’t push her buttons any further, the little bit of humanity I had at the moment was stopping me. This is your moment Roger. Tell her how you feel.

“That’s how I feel when I see you with other guys. I don’t like that I’m not the only person you’re seeing.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. Yeah I sleep with other girls, but I can’t get you out of my head so, I try to distract myself.”

Y/N’s POV

Holy shit is he saying what I think he’s saying.

“But I do care Roger. I care too much for my own good. I’ve been trying to ignore you for a few months, but I missed you too much.”

I can’t believe I was finally getting somewhere. All it took was a slightly drunk Roger punching a random guy in the face. Why hadn’t I thought of something like that a long time ago?

“Look Y/N, you mean a lot to me. You can support me better than anyone else. I can’t loose you because I did something stupid. I’m so sorry.”

He sounded almost...apologetic, I didn’t know that was possible coming from Roger. I was managing to get something out of him that I’m pretty sure not one person on the earth had heard before.

I didn’t want to let him off the hook that easy but, my heart was melting with every word he said. Forgive him. Do it. You know you want to Y/N.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier Rog. A lot of shit could have been prevented.”

“Yeah.”

“You mean a lot to me too.”

“God, I’m relieved. I mean what if you had said you didn’t feel the same, that would be embarrassing. I need to stop rambling.”

I just gave him a are-you-seriously-talking-right-now look. He just smirked back at me and took a few steps until he was face to face with me.

“Is this really happening?”

“Well I would hope so darling.”

Before I could say anything else, his lips were meeting mine and it felt as if Roger and I were the only two people in the world.

I had waited so long for this moment and I felt a great pressure being lifted from my shoulders. I didn’t have to hide anymore and neither did he.

I knew Roger wasn’t a man of many words, but his mouth worked another kind of magic. This kiss was unlike any other we had shared. This one meant something, it wasn’t friendly or lust filled. This kiss was indescribable, it was just perfect.

As soon as he had pulled away, I wanted more, however he started speaking...

“Ya’know, I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid for loving you.”

Taglist: @dontfollowmegoaway @sherlokiantheatrenerd @lets-get-saucie @hesvoid34 @magicwithaknife @alien-alibii @winchestergirl907 @coffeeaddict201

I May Be Dumb, But I’m Not Stupid (Part 2)

[Roger Taylor x Fem!reader]

A/N: Thank you guys for such a positive response to part 1. It means a lot because I’ve never posted or really shared my writing before and I’m glad I’m able to give you something to enjoy!!! It’s still kinda short but shit goes down in the next chapter, I just felt like being evil 😈 and leaving it on a cliffhanger. Also thank you for being so patient. I’ve been very busy and haven’t had any time to write. 😘

(P.s. I couldn’t link the first part because I don’t have a computer on hand at the moment)

Read Part One First❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️

Reminder: I’m taking concept requests for Queen and 5sos (no full on smut)

Y/N’s POV

“Come on!”

“Go with us!”

“It’s a party for you, we’re all going.”

“Even Deaky’s going. If Deaky’s going you should go.”

Roger and I had been pestering Brian for a good thirty minutes. He refused to come with us to a party tonight which may I add, was celebrating HIS band’s upcoming tour. Brian said he had a “bad feeling” about tonight, whatever that meant.

“I just feel like something bad is going to happen and knowing you guys, I’d probably be the one having to fix it.”

I didn’t really want to go either but I was supporting my friends and knowing my 2 favorite things: boys and booze would be there, the decision was a little easier. Plus I would probably be shunned if I didn’t go (Freddie and Roger a.k.a the hysterical queens of the band).

I had recently tried distancing myself from Roger, however this task turned out to be much more difficult than I had originally thought. Roger was a drug no rehab could cure me of, I just kept relapsing every time I tried to quit. Partying always helped me cope; so I got a buzz whenever I could, even though the high only lasts till he catches my eye. And again and again, Roger kept reminding me that I couldn’t have him. I was his for the week, until he moved on to the next fling.

I had feelings for my best friend and I knew he would never feel the same way. Roger could barely pay attention to one girl for more than a week, I couldn’t expect a relationship out of him.

Later that night

Getting ready for the party was causing me more stress than I already had. I wanted to doll myself up just so Roger would notice me, but I couldn’t make it too obvious. I also had to make sure that I would be able to catch the eye of anyone but Roger, while still managing to grab his attention in a tasteful way. See, even picking out my clothes to impress Roger seemed like a life or death situation. It was completely ridiculous, obsessing over one guy like this. I just need to go to the party and completely ignore Roger. How presumptuous of me to actually think my will power would keep him away from me.

“Freddie’s already there Brian, lets go,” Roger complained. After convincing Brian to go, he’d decided to take the maximum amount of time possible to get ready (of course he did, have you seen his hair).

We finally leaving the house, we arrived at the party to find it was already on full swing.I immediately left the boys to go get shitfaced, that’s what I was there for after all.

3 rounds of shots and 2 beers later I felt my sobriety begin to disappear. I wasn’t really paying attention to my surroundings, that was until a guy a few meters away offered to buy me a drink. Boy, did I make a mistake saying yes...

Roger’s POV

I had barely walked through the door and I already had girls lining up to see me. I liked the attention, I always did, but I felt guilty. I felt like every time I had a girl even flirt with me, I was cheating. I hadn’t actually admitted it to anyone that I felt guilty because of her. Y/N was the only girl that I kept around, ever. Brian had tried to get me to spill about my emotions, even though I’m pretty sure he already knew everything.

Y/N meant a lot more to me than anyone knew. I couldn’t lose my reputation for a girl that so obviously had no romantic feelings toward me. She’d been very distant lately and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because she didn’t want to keep up our little agreement anymore.

My temper had been through the roof and I was set off by every little thing. I was pissed at myself. I let her down. It took a lot for me not snap the neck of any guy Y/N spent time with.

I didn’t want to lose her. She was...perfect, the only thing that kept me sane. Now I wasn’t the smartest guy, but it didn’t take an astrophysicist (get it 😂) to realize how amazing this girl was.

Here I was sat with a girl on either arm and all I could think of was where Y/N was. Not with me, which is where she should be. I scanned the room searching for her and as soon as I caught sight of her, I felt my blood boil.

Y/N’s POV

I guess Brian’s little prediction had been correct . It seemed Roger was in the mood for a fight tonight because I had looked away from the guy I was speaking to, only to see an enraged Roger stomping towards us. As soon as I spotted the red tinge in his face and how his fists were clenched, I realized that someone was getting majorly injured. Who it was going to be, I had no idea.

Tag list: @dontfollowmegoaway (im so sorry it wouldn’t let me tag you ☹️☹️) @sherlokiantheatrenerd @lets-get-saucie

I May Be Dumb, But I’m Not Stupid (Part 1)

[Roger Taylor]

A/N: Ok so this is my first fan fiction. This is mainly based on Ben Hardy/Roger Taylor, because who doesn’t need that. This is probably gonna be multiple parts but bare with me because I have no idea what I’m doing and this may be complete shit. So for rn just enjoy!

(P.s. These are like background details and the necessary setup for the story so it’s kind of boring and short but I promise it’ll be more dramatic later.)

😊-C

Y/ N’s P.O.V

Ever seen Roger Taylor without a girl on his arm? I sure haven’t, hell I usually am one of those girls. I’ve been one of those girls for years, ever since I met Roger at a pub his band performed in...

I think it was his smile, or maybe it was the way he played his drums, or maybe it was how he sang. I don’t quite remember what attracted me to him, but I do remember that as soon as he was on stage, he caught my eye. I was out with a few friends that night, but I had already lost sight of them. The band’s music got my attention and I couldn’t help but stare at the blonde drummer. He was very attractive in my book and my gaze couldn’t be torn from him. He momentarily looked up from his drum kit and made eye contact with me. That wink he gave me made me sure that I would have to find a way to talk to this man.

Later that night, I was about to go search for my friends when someone bumped into me. I was about to yell at them for nearly making me drop my beer when I realized it was the drummer from the band. You can’t yell at him, contain yourself. Attractive man in front of you, don’t fuck this up. He just smirked at me.

“What’s your name love?”

“Y/N.”

“Well Y/N, how about I buy you a drink and we talk about your oh so obvious attraction to me?” he asked with a not-so-innocent grin.

And that was that. Same old story, boy meets girl, boy and girl talk, boy and girl hook up, and that’s the end of it. However, when I received a phone call a few days later from this musician asking if I wanted to come to one of his gigs and “talk” again afterwards, I was shocked yet delighted.

Overtime, it became a regular occurance for me to hook up with Roger. There started to be days where we would just talk (real talking, get your minds out of the gutter) and I realized I genuinely liked spending time with Roger. I slowly became closer with both Roger and his band mates. It was kind of a friends with benefits situation, Rog and I could go from talking about his new ridiculous fashion statement to whispering dirty things in each other’s ears in 5 seconds flat. I knew he was sleeping with other girls and I was with other guys, but neither of us seemed to care. When their band blew up he even insisted on me touring with them.

Of course I agreed. How could I go months without Freddie’s dramatic stories, or Deaky’s sarcasm, or Brian and Roger’s frequent ridiculous arguments? Plus he claimed he would miss me too much to leave me at home.

The average day on tour began with a hangover from the night before. It was always a tossup who’s room I would end up sleeping in, or if I would even end up in one of the guy’s rooms. I would then go through the process of possibly having to get rid of any male “friends” I had aquired the night before and then making myself presentable for the day. Next, sound check (which I always sat in on), lunch break, pre-show preparation, concert, party, repeat.

I had grown to have a small crush on Rog, but my want for a relationship with him was overshadowed by the fact that he most likely did not reciprocate those feelings. Even though I knew this very tiny, minuscule crush would go away, it still killed me every time I saw Roger talking to, flirting with, breathing near another girl. The normal jealously things, right?

I’m not saying Roger and I didn’t still mess around, but he still got as many other girls into bed as possible. I knew I was his favorite, that’s why he dragged me to recording studios, events, tours, etc as often as possible. However, unlike the other girls I got the almighty privilege of being able to hang out with the band whenever I wanted because contrary to the media’s beliefs, I was not just Roger’s plaything.

A few years passed and I still hadn’t gotten rid of my crush on Roger. I tried to ignore it but it kept reappearing. I was able to find temporary distractions, but my mind always went back to the drummer. I thought I would be able to repress my feelings. Little did I know that I wouldn’t be able to hide my emotions forever. Problems always seem to arise at the worst possible moments and boy was I about to be drowning in a sea of complications, all because of my dumb feelings for the unattainable.

MASTERLIST

NEPOTISM BABIES

Gene Gallagher

Appreciation >

Lennon Gallagher

Kisses >

Queen dating a Filipina HC

A/n: i wanted to bring my own culture in here so i guess?

Freddie Mercury

-amazed at the taste of your cooking

-"how do you say i love you in your language?"

-"mahal kita"

-"m-mahawl keta?"

-shocked at how intimidated other people are

-but he knows that you are a sweet person and very hospitable to others

-but with mean people talking shit about You and Freddie?

-oh boi

-"Love are you ok?"

-"Parang gago putangina-"

-not understanding what it means but he just assumes its a swear word

-Freddie tries to learn filipino

-the other boys also fascinated with your culture

-BEING AN INCREDIBLE DUO WHEN IT COMES TO SINGING

Brian May

-you guys met at a bar you were still getting used to your new place

-"Im guessing youre new around here?

-you and Brian talked about similar interest and where youre from

-"Philippines? Sounds like a nice country"

-Making Brian wear your national costume

-"Its uhhh a bit itchy"

-Him being in shock when he sees you in a baro't saya

-Accidentally responding to him in Filipino

-"Hey babe what do you want for dinner?"

-"Kahit ano"

-Its just like ??? Tf is that?

-You sometimes help him makes songs

-You meet the other boys when Brian brought you to the studio

-"Nice to meet you!"

-Getting Brian to teach you how to play his guitar

-very fast learner

-"It took me days to master that how the-"

-Loves how soft your hair is

-teaching him how to be respectull to your parents

Roger Taylor

-met you at a concert

-he was intruiged by your hard to get nature

-once he finally got to talk to you he invited you to a date and that was a start of the spark between you

-loves hugging you from behind

-YOU MAKE HIM AND THE OTHER BOYS SO MUCH FILIPINO SWEETS

-"I think i had too much 'hawlo-hawlo'"

-speaking in Filipino a lot specially to family

-even on phone

"Hello?ma?Kamusta na kayo ni Tay diyan?"

-"Was that your mom?"

-will not say but loves being a small spoon

-"you know you're taller than me right"

-will defend you when someone makes a racist slur

John Deacon

-met at college

-a heaven sent for John

-He tried to learn about your culture so you and him could have something to talk about

-"Hey uhhh i tried to make you food but i.... think i messed up"

-brags to the guys at how beautifull and a good cook you are

-even to other girls

-"Hey handsome wanna hang out at my place?"

-"Umm excuse me? I have a girlfriend"

-he wants you to teach him slangs but you know it will get annoying because he WILL repeat it

-"You guys say Hawkdog instead of Hotdog?"

-cuddles will always be the best

-attempts to write a song in Filipino

-fails

-"my language is more difficult thank you think,dear"

To everyone who feels sad that they didnt get to meet Freddie Mercury

I,as a queen fan loves freddie. He was my inspiration to be confident no matter what happens. I love the man so much I would even cry just because I didnt get to meet him. But I know he wouldnt want me to be sad, he would tell me to turn my frown upsidedown and keep rocking the world with my presence, that is what keeps me going.

So if any of you constantly thinks about this Freddie would want you to remember him in all his glory and be happy

T h a n k y o u

BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY WON AND IM ACTUALLY CRYING LOOK AT THESE HAPPY BOIS

Roger Taylor Edit

Audio:Awhdio

(Im pretty proud of this :))))

If you dont get this reference we cant be friends

Queen Edit

Audio:c.uteaudio

(This is so bad :^))

The Couple Next Door IX (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Eight Here

A/N: Surprise! I’m briefly back from a year-long Hiatus and I have one chapter for TCND, one for ATU AND a George Harrison one-shot I’m just gonna drop and then probably disappear again for another few months. I’m also finding it even more difficult to write for Roger seeing as I’ve kinda been listening to nothing but The Beatles for the last fifteen months and I really only hear Queen at work, so that’s gotta change. But I am very sorry about the LONG wait. I really do appreciate you guys, and I think you’ve all waited quite long enough to find out what happens next...

Summary: Roger and Y/N spend the morning taking care of Bobby; they talk a little more about the future and come to the conclusion they both want the same thing.

(Let your imagination run free, bc this can be either Canon or Borhap!Roger)

WARNINGS: Swearing is probably a given at this point, self-doubt, mentions/ suggestions of sex (advise you to avoid if you’re under 18), and I usually revise when I’m stoned so there’s probably some typos in here too, sorry.

Rated T for Teen-- (I feel like a video game rating smh)

Bobby was crying again.

Granted, it was about seven in the morning, and he did sleep for the rest of the night.

Roger was the last of the both of you to wake up; not because of the crying-- he didn't even hear the crying-- but he was wrapped up in the blankets with you, and you were trying to remove yourself from his grasp.

"Don't leave," Roger grumbled as he pulled you tightly against his chest, eyes remaining closed as you whispered back to him.

"But I have to go. Baby's cryin'."

Roger loosened his grip on you, much to his dismay, and you slipped from his embrace, leaving him cold, and alone.

"Come back, Baby..." He really hoped his gravelly plea would entice you to return from the nursery after tending to Bobby, and although you were probably against having sex in your friends' bed, he figured there was no harm in testing the waters.

"That's not how that works when you have a baby, Rog. The day starts now."

Roger groaned in protest, but as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, he revealed to himself that you were no longer in the room, and the baby's cries settled when he heard your voice float down the hall from the nursery room.

Roger, as much as he didn't want to, tossed the comforter off of his body, and after rising to his feet and combing his fingers through his hair, he shuffled out of the bedroom and made a beeline to the stairs.

He was glad he was familiar with John's kitchen; because he was certain you had no idea where anything was, meaning he would be the one preparing breakfast that morning, and the one following it, most likely.

Fuck it, he would (try to) cook you up seven different meals a day if you asked him.

Anything for you.

He put the kettle on, and moved to the pantry in search for John's teabags, yawning lightly as he pulled the door open.

Nothing in the pantry really stuck out to him as being a good breakfast that morning, so Roger ended up migrating to the fridge after retrieving the tea, where his eyes fell on the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf.

He settled on making French Toast for breakfast seeing as he, according to you, made the best French Toast in England.

So he got to work whipping up some eggs and pulling four slices of bread from the bread box on the counter-- but not before he got one of Bobby's bottles out for you, warmed it, and placed it on the kitchen table.

Roger was frying the French Toast in no time, and he hummed gently as he busied himself with focusing on the now whistling kettle, and when the right time to flip the toast would be.

"... I thought you were still in bed," your words were sudden, and it made Roger jump a little. But when he realized it was only you, Bobby in your arms, his mouth contorted into a dopey smile.

"Nah," Roger turned the pan's burner down a little, and after he flipped the French Toast, he set his spatula on the counter, turning to face you.

"I was gonna let you sleep in, since you were so reluctant on waking up," you explained with a yawn. "But here you are awake, and making breakfast before me."

"Well it wouldn't be fair then, would it? Me sleeping in while you've all this work to do?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"I really don't think so, Dove."

He felt pride swell in his chest when pink dusted your cheeks at the sound of your new nickname, and he took this chance to swoon you further by pulling you in gently by the elbows, and he enveloped both you and Bobby in his embrace.

"Beautiful..." Roger's voice was barely a whisper as he touched his lips to your jawline, and you responded with a soft exhale.

"Even when you've just woken up," Roger mumbled against the skin of your neck, lips curling into a smile, "you are the prettiest goddamned thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Mmm, down, boy," you purred back jokingly, taking a small step back. "Baby still needs to eat."

"Well yours is coming right up," he teased, "and Bobby's is already at the table." Roger pointed to the bottle on the other side of the room before tapping your rear. "Take a seat, and I'll bring your food over."

You didn't have to be told twice. You took a seat at the table, and although Bobby was growing a little agitated, it was short lived when you put the bottle of milk in his possession.

Roger, not five minutes after you sat down, joined you at the table with your French Toast and your mug of tea, made just the way you liked it, of course.

"'S the right tea, yeah?"

You took a quick look at the label hanging from the mug.

"Yep." Your eyes squinted after letting the label fall where the string tied to it would let it. "Y'know, you've been making my tea right for months, you don't have to check to make sure you're right."

"You know I'm always gonna make sure it's to your liking."

"And I love you for it."

"Hopefully for other things too. I'm not just good at being your barista."

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm not overlooking your other good traits," you smiled as you brought your mug to your lips and having the first sip of tea of the day.

As Roger sat down next to you with his own plate of food and mug of tea, he decided to wait on Bobby to finish so he could eat with you.

So, naturally, he took the time to evaluate again what kind of situation he was in.

There was nothing like watching you care for Bobby. Roger had known you for years, and not once in his life did he ever think he would be sitting next to you at breakfast while feeding a baby, whether or not the child was his own, or yours.

The whole scene looked too good to be true, though like the previous night, Roger just drank in the sight of you putting all your love and care into a child at breakfast with him.

How did you think you weren't cut out for being a mother?

This was in your nature.

The domesticity of the situation made Roger a little emotional. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to experiencing a breakfast with a family he'd built, and he spent every passing second filling his mind and heart with the beautiful sight before him.

"Y/n, you would make a wonderful mother." Roger's words left his mouth faster than his brain could register what he'd said.

You looked to Roger from Bobby, cheeks and tips of your ears darkening, and Roger was talking again before he could realize it and catch himself.

"Any man would be so damn lucky to have you. I honestly can't believe you stick around me still."

Your face was feeling real hot, now. Roger's head was still lagging behind his words, and clearly, he wasn't done talking.

"You could be out building a beautiful family right now, but instead you're babysitting with your best friend who you also occasionally sleep with. I just... I don't understand."

It took you a second to respond, but Roger didn't blame you. Honestly, he didn't even know what he would have said if he were asked the same question.

"... Well, I love you, Roger."

Your words were simple, and Roger knew your statement was nothing but platonic, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding against his ribcage.

You'd said those exact three words to him minutes earlier, but the context of the conversations contrasted their meanings.

"But we promised each other at the beginning of all of this that we'd be fine giving up pursuing family life if that means living with one another..."

"... You sound unsure, now."

The atmosphere felt heavy, and it was almost as if Bobby had known making noise wasn't in his best interest. He decided to finish eating at the right time.

"... It's not that I'm unsure. It's just..."

Roger waited patiently for you to answer, but you had noticed Bobby finished his milk, and you took the bottle from him.

You burped him, and placed a pacifier you pulled from your pocket in Bobby's mouth. You must have gotten it from upstairs before you came down.

"Let me," Roger offered his arms out for the baby, and you let him take Bobby. You'd stood up and moved to the sink to wash the bottle.

Meanwhile, Roger, who'd also gotten to his feet, was slowly walking around the kitchen. He was praising Bobby for finishing all his breakfast, insisting he was so proud of him, his smile wide and gaze adoring as he evaluated the child in his arms.

"It's just that. There. The way you're behaving with him," you turn to face Roger, finger pointed at him. "The way you're treating him as your own."

Roger's mouth opened and closed a few times, but after shutting his jaw for the third time, he decided the best thing to do in this situation would be to keep quiet.

"You'd make the most wonderful father, Roger. The way you behave with Bobby, god, the way you behaved with Raymond the other day," you sounded frustrated, and all Roger could do was watch you pace the kitchen, his sheepish face now a deep red.

"It's just that I would want the father of my kids to be just like you. I wouldn't settle for anything less."

Roger opened his mouth again to speak. He felt like his chest was on fire. Your thoughts were becoming painstakingly parallel to his, Roger had noticed. He couldn't get any words out before you started speaking again.

"Like you said last night, this job is giving us a chance to experience what it'd be like to have a family... and maybe I'm upset I did throw the chance to have all of that away."

You looked like you were on the verge of tears, and all Roger could do was watch you and listen to what you had to say.

"Roger, I hope you know you will always have a special place in my heart. You're my family, you have been for the last five years of my life, and there's no doubt about it. But being able to have a child..."

Your hands ghosted over the robe's fabric covering your definitely unpregnant belly. "... I think I want to have children."

"... Y/n I hope you know I feel exactly the same way."

And then everything was clear.

Roger understood where his band was coming from.

Getting married to you would solve all your problems.

He knew what the both of you were thinking in this new moment of silence, but there was absolutely no way Roger was going to fall to one knee and propose to you right now when he wasn't even romantically involved with you.

And he just felt it would be very inappropriate if he took this moment to spontaneously ask you on a romantic date with the intentions of courting you.

"Listen, Y/n," Roger finally built up enough courage to break the silence. Bobby cut him off with a short cry, and Roger immediately started swaying the baby in his arms. Sure enough, Bobby's agitation ceased, and Roger could continue, keeping the movement going.

"Just because we're living together without families now doesn't mean we won't be able to have families, say, five to ten years down the road."

At this point, although it was necessary, Roger didn't really want to mention the discomfort he felt when imagining you falling for someone who wasn't him.

Your eyes were big and sad, lip pouted as you considered Roger's words. "... are you sure?"

The idea of you and him having to move out of the condo Roger risked the both of your love lives for didn't sit well with him.

You'd be gone making sweet love to some lucky asshole who probably didn't deserve to be in your presence, while Roger goes on a bender, gets ahold of some weed and coke, and sleeps with enough girls to distract him from realizing he'd thrown the best thing in his life away-- you.

He didn't want you to think he thought you were selfish. The last thing he needed right now was to feel guilty for making you feel guilty.

So he just nodded. "No house isn't forever anyways." When you didn't respond to his little joke, he sighed.

"Y/n, we're still so young. You don't have to commit yourself to anything like that just yet. Enjoy being able to go out drinking with me every weekend, and sleeping in on our days off. Your chance to start a family will come when the time is right."

You let out a shaky breath. Roger was actually a little surprised with how well you were keeping yourself together.

But his actions put the both of you here, and to see that this conversation nearly reduced you to tears had Roger drowning in guilt, even without the help of mentioning any of his inner conflict to you.

"I just hope you're right." Your voice was broken and your fingers were tangled stressfully in your hair.

"Hey," Roger's voice had gone soft again, his rocking slowing to a halt, and you looked up to find him with an open arm, awaiting your touch.

You slowly unravelled your fingers from your hair, and you gave into the hug not moments later. Roger pulled you to his chest tightly, his free arm occupied by the baby.

"Y'know... I made you French Toast to start the day off good." When you didn't say anything in response, Roger pulled away from you just enough to look you in the face.

He was giving you that same look he did at the Garrison's again; that unreadable gaze he'd achieved with those big blue eyes that seemingly bored holes into your very soul.

His free hand slipped up from your back to your neck, and he leaned in to just touch his lips to the corner of your mouth.

So close, yet so far away.

It wasn't before long that he pulled away from you, but Roger just couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"You come sit down and enjoy your French Toast, Dove. I've got Bobby."

"But--"

"Please?"

Roger knew he'd convinced you as soon as he said that magic word. Though you took a moment to look from the bundle in his arms to the breakfast you really were dying to dig into, you eventually sighed out a gentle "thank you," before taking your seat again at the table.

He came around and kissed the top of your head. "Enjoy, Honey." Roger took a seat next to you, Bobby still in his one arm, and the both of you ate your French Toast in relative silence for the first few seconds.

"... God, you really do make good French Toast, Blondie." Roger was smiling now. At least you were talking again.

"I only improved my cooking skills for you, y'know," he admitted with a mouthful of his food, though he didn't sound ashamed of it.

"And thank God for that. Cooking every other night sure beats cooking every night."

"You can say that again," Roger mumbled before shoving the last of his breakfast into his mouth. You still slowly ate away at your meal, and Roger was making funny faces at Bobby in between taking sips of his tea.

The telephone in the living room started ringing, and you stood up to go get it, but Roger immediately dropped his fork and grabbed your wrist.

"Nuh-uh. I just finished eating. You still have a little bit to go. Take Bobby and I'll get it." You scooped the baby up without another word, smiling when he opened his eyes.

"Can you at least bring back his rattle from his play pen?"

"Can do, Princess," he called over his shoulder as he approached the phone.

"H'lo?"

"Roger?"

"Oh, hey, John!" Roger tucked the phone's handset under his chin, carrying the telephone in his left hand so he could get Bobby's rattle.

"Isn't it a little early to be up?" Roger glanced at the clock, which read that it was quarter after seven.

"Biological clocks. Just wanting to checking in. Is Bobby okay? Has he been any trouble?"

"No, of course not! He's doing fine, John." Roger tucked the rattle in his back pocket when he found it, and returned to the writing desk where the phone was meant to stay.

That was something he loved about you. You always bought him pyjamas with pockets. The concept was cool, and being able to use them was even cooler.

"Y/n's got him in the kitchen right now," he explained, taking the handset again with his now free hand. "We're all just finishing up breakfast, actually."

"Oh good. How is she?" John paused for a second, his voice dropping a little lower. "... How are you guys?"

Roger made sure his voice was a little quiet, as well. "John, this may have been your guys' best idea ever. I don't know why I was against this in the beginning."

"Really?! What's happened already?!" John, everyone would have guessed to be one to avoid certain kinds of gossip, though when it came to Roger's business with you, he liked checking up on that.

"I told her about all that family stuff."

"And?"

"And, well..." Roger set the phone back onto the desk and scratched the back of his neck. "... She may or may not be having the same problem," he mumbled.

"So... so you both want a family?" John tried clarifying.

"Yes."

"Then why are you two not together?!" Roger slipped away around the corner into the main hall with just the receiver so he was a little further away from the kitchen. He didn't want you hearing their conversation, or John through the receiver.

"Well I'm not asking her here!"

"Then where? And when?"

Roger knew John was just getting excited, and his questions honestly had Roger brainstorming every possibility when it came to asking you.

"... I don't know, yet," Roger said after a while of thinking. "But soon. God, it needs to be soon." He didn't quite know why he was pressuring himself to ask you sooner than later.

Maybe it was because he was scared someone much better and more deserving of you (or alternatively, a selfish prick) was going to waltz in and steal you from him just before he had you for sure.

"Do you need any help with that part? I can get Fred and Bri--"

"No no no, it's okay, John." Roger leaned up against the wall of the hallway, fingers tapping the handset absentmindedly with his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

"You guys have already done enough, really. I... I think I'm good on my own from here."

"Well, I'm glad," John expressed to Roger. "It's not every day you need to help Roger Taylor get with a girl, y'know."

"This is different, and you know it."

"I just like to tease," John defended, and Roger could even hear a smile evident in his words.

"Anyways, Veronica and I will be home tomorrow around noon. Y/n's got our number. You two take care."

"Of course, you too," Roger was making his way back to the writing desk.

"Thanks. Oh, and Roger?" John added quickly.

"Hm?"

"If you two end up doing anything, for God's sake, please wash the sheets."

As John was speaking, you'd walked into the living room with Bobby in your arms. "We're gonna go and have some play time, now! Yes we are!"

Roger was too panicked by your presence to even realize you weren't paying any attention to the phone call, and he hoped to God you didn't hear a single thing John had said. "Yeah-yes! Laundry. Will do."

He nodded his head once, though John couldn't see him, and after saying their good byes, Roger hung up the phone.

He turned to where you were in the living room. You were looking in the play pen for something, and Roger suddenly remembered the rattle in his back pocket.

He pulled it out hurriedly and held it out to you. "Shit! I'm so sorry about that--"

"Don't swear, Roger," you took the rattle, a smile on your lips you both knew you were trying to frown away. "There's a baby here."

"What? He doesn't know what that word means."

"Well, the more you keep saying it, the more of a chance he has at that being his first word, and I do not need the Deacon Family hunting us down for teaching their kid swears." You looked from Roger down to Bobby, shaking the rattle gently and grinning when Bobby squealed happily and reached out for the toy.

You took a seat on the couch, and played around with Bobby while Roger went back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

From 7:30 AM to about 2:30, all that really happened was play-time and lunch, something Roger prepared. You offered to do the dishes, but Roger wouldn't allow it. He just suggested you put Bobby up for his nap. He'd fallen asleep in your arms during play-time, like he did with Roger the night before.

The both of you thought it was crazy Bobby would just fall asleep rather than cry, but honestly, neither of you were complaining. Quiet baby for the win!

Roger just finished putting the last plate on the drying rack on the counter as he listened above for your footsteps leaving Bobby's room. He dried his hands off with the dishtowel hanging over his shoulder after turning off the faucet.

From behind, Roger felt a pair of arms slowly circle his body, and he smiled warmly at the feeling of you pressed against his back.

"He asleep?"

"Mhm."

Roger's smile only widened as you inched your palms up his chest. He turned in your arms and pressed his hands against your hips, inching you closer as he leaned back against the kitchen sink.

"Well, what do we do, now?" Roger asked. He sounded like he was up to no good. With the sultry look in his eyes and the way the smile on his lips looked like he was repressing a naughty suggestion, he knew you knew he already had something on his mind.

"Well, I mean," your hands slipped up into Roger's long hair, fingers tangling themselves between the strands. "Anything, really."

You knew what game Roger was playing, and you loved how cute he was, thinking he was going to have you on your knees for him.

His eyes shamelessly raked over the top half of your body, and he squeezed his hands, still at your hips.

"What'll you be doing with your free time, Roger?" You took one more step closer to him, and he pulled you the rest of the way to him so your groin was flush with his.

"I'm looking right at her."

He was already strained against his jeans, and you just offered a smile, fingers tightening their grip in Roger's hair.

"Mmm... I kinda like the sound of that," you admitted lowly, half of a smile on your lips. You shifted your hips from side to side, and Roger tried to pull you even closer.

You rolled your hips against Roger again, and the cheekiness in his face fell with a look of long-awaited relief, and his head dropped to your shoulder.

One of his hands moved up to grab you by the back of your neck, and when he lifted his head to look at you again, his second hand dragged upwards from your hip to squeeze your waist.

Roger lifted the hand by your neck, and combed your hair back with his fingers. His eyes fell onto yours for a brief moment, and you could have sworn there was something he tried to tell you there.

You just couldn't read him.

But he didn't care. He pulled you in close again, and his lips were on yours.

You'd kissed Roger before. Not in public, but definitely in the bedroom. And they weren't very scarce. Honestly, if Roger's lips weren't somewhere else on your body, they'd be on yours.

But why was this feeling different from all the other times he'd kissed you?

He was being a lot less forceful and needy than he usually was.

His grip wasn't tight on you, and it wasn't like he was crushing you against him as if indicating he needed more of you, now.

He was holding you rather, and the hand at your waist circled around to press against your lower back. The hand on your neck shifted a little forward so Roger could gently slide the pad of his thumb down the column of your throat.

The both of you were holding your breath, and Roger was the first to pull away. The both of you sucked in some air, and before you could even draw in a full breath, Roger's lips were on yours again.

He pushed towards you, guiding you backwards until your back was flat against the refrigerator. His warm hands grabbed for yours and he pinned them above your head by your wrists.

Okay. This, was something you were used to. But there was nothing that could have prepared you for when Roger's hands loosened their grip on your wrists, and he was lacing his fingers between your own.

Your hands felt very small in Roger's. How had he never noticed that before? What else had he neglected to realize about you?

In that moment, he felt you pull away to breathe, and he looked down at you worriedly, fingers frozen, yet still laced with yours.

"I- uh... I-I'm sorry--"

"No no, don't be. It's okay," your response was very rushed, but you didn't skip a word.

There was about a minute of silence, your hot breaths mingling in the space between your lips, though your gazes were locked with one another, and you couldn't look away.

"Did-uh... did you want me to... to stop?" His question was gentle, almost sincere-sounding, but he still made no effort to move from his place.

"No. God, no." And as soon as you'd answered, Roger closed the space between the both of you again, his fingers unwound from yours to grab you by the jaw, and you just held his waist, pushing your body as close to him as he would let you.

He shifted around a little, and moved his leg between yours. You could feel his mouth bend into a smirk against yours, and he began to apply pressure to the apex of your legs with his knee.

Before long, as much as you wanted to resist it, you fell to Roger's submission, and as you waited for him to grab your waist and put you wherever, he hesitated for a second, and dropped his hands from yours.

You opened your eyes again to find Roger, face red, and staring at your chest. Not in an ogling way, but more of a method to avoid looking you in the eye.

He could tell you were looking at him, and he shifted his gaze to you. He itched at his hands awkwardly, mouth opening and closing as he tried to explain himself.

You just waited. You gave him time to think, and he had an answer for you sooner than either of you would have thought.

"I just... I wanna try something else. I don’t want to control you like I do every night."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but a good beginning to a demonstration.

"Will you come to bed with me, Y/n?" His offer was gentle, yet confident, despite offering a hand out hesitantly.

When you dropped your hand into his, all of the tension in Roger's being relaxed, and he quietly led you up the stairs, past the nursery, and into John and Veronica's room.

Before you could say anything he gently explained that he'd do laundry later, and then he pulled you in for another kiss he'd been waiting to give you since the last one.

Roger pulled you closer to him, hands cupping your face as his lips began to desperately chase after yours. You kissed Roger back with just as much vigor, but then he slowed the movements of his mouth, and guided you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Roger helped lower you down onto the bed, and he leaned over you, dipping down to kiss your lips again. He knelt between your legs, and pulled them up around his waist so he could lean in even closer.

You felt his hands squeeze your hips, and he pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth. You hummed lowly, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks as Roger pulled away ever so slightly-- just enough to pull his shirt off of him, and close the distance between your bodies again.

You tangled your hands into his hair, and he hummed in approval before pulling back just once more.

"I'm sure that's hardly fair..."

"What?"

"This," Roger tugged gently at the hem of your shirt.

"Why's yours still on?"

"... I never said it had to be."

Roger exhaled, and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head after you raised your arms to help him out a little.

He placed the palm of his hand over the smooth skin of your belly as he stared at your bare torso. And before long, he dipping down to kiss you again.

You reciprocated his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck and tightening your legs around his hips, to which he rocked himself against your core, and then---

Bam!

The headboard hit the wall, and Bobby woke up.

"Nooo..." you squeezed your eyes shut as the baby's cries began to reverberate down the hallway.

"Fuck!" Roger groaned, eyebrows knitted together helplessly as he climbed off of you. You both knew it was Roger who technically woke the baby up, and it was just silently agreed on that he went to put him back down.

"Dammit to hell, those separated headboards."

Roger opened the nursery door, and made his way to the crib in the corner of the room. Bobby's cheeks were wet with tears, and Roger's heart sank. "'M sorry, little guy. C'mere. Come see uncle Roger."

He picked the baby up and rocked him back and forth, though it wasn't exactly doing much, so Roger took a seat in the rocking chair on the opposite side of the room, swaying the both of them with a push of his feet.

Bobby's cries settled, and Roger felt proud of himself. Sure, he wanted to get back to what he was doing before, but instead he took his time in making sure Bobby was comfortable and not in need of anything before he drifted off to sleep again.

Bobby played around with Roger's fingers a few moments after his agitation ceased, and he couldn't believe how large his hands were in comparison to Bobby's. He was once that size.

A little while later Roger set Bobby down in his crib, and the infant was out. The drummer smiled at his accomplishment. He didn't even need your help.

With that, he left the room without a sound.

He stepped into John and Veronica's room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He was in the middle of turning on his heel when he stopped dead in his tracks.

You'd taken some of the pillows off the bed and wedged them between the wall and the headboard to keep the bed from making noise.

You were also splayed out on the bed in a lot less clothing than he remembered you in when he left.

With a teasing beckon from your finger, Roger knew three things were for certain.

1. You were the smartest woman he knew.

2. You were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

3. He, the Roger Taylor, had fallen madly, and helplessly in love with you.

-------------------------------------

A/A/N: Again, you’ve all been waiting long enough for the next chapter, so here you are. i hope you all enjoy, and if my response is great with this one, I’ll see if I can spit out another one soon <3

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The Couple Next Door VIII (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Seven Here

A/N: Honestly, I never expected this fic to get to 8 chapters, but here we are!

Summary: Roger and Y/n babysit for John and Veronica

(You can imagine the canon or Hardy!Roger; whatever bohemians your rhapsody)

WARNINGS: Self-doubt, swearing maybe(?), mentions of sex (like... once)

This chapter will be rated as a T. Enjoy!

"If you need anything, literally anything, please call us. We know where everything is, and--" 

 "John, I promise I'll call if we need to. Roger and I will be fine," you tried to assure the bassist, giving his shoulder a pat as he took a breath. 

 "Okay, okay." He smiled, though it was a sad-looking one. You knew being away from Bobby was going to be difficult for him, and you tried your best to keep him calm, and ensure him not to worry a bit. 

 "Y/n is very responsible," Roger, who was standing next to you, reminded John. He knew John was aware of that, but Roger didn't like seeing John emotionally distraught. He saw John cry once so far in his life, and it was so heartbreaking that he decided he never wanted to see him cry ever again. 

 Veronica walked through the door into the nursery with Bobby in her arms. 

"Let's say goodbye to Daddy," she cooed as she handed him over to John, who repeatedly kissed the infant's head over and over again, whispering to him how much he loves him, and how he was gonna be right back. 

 You watched with sad eyes and a pouty lip as John and his son interacted, Bobby reaching up to grab John's finger with his tiny hands. Roger gauged your reaction, taking quick mental notes of how John was acting so he could mimic his behaviour with Bobby later. 

 Veronica eventually had to tell John that they were going to be stuck in traffic if they spent any longer at home, so John placed Bobby in your embrace before blowing him a kiss. 

 "Uncle Roger will take good care of you, Bub. I love you," he whispered once more before thanking you again, and leaving the three of you in the nursery, though Roger followed them out and locked the door behind them. 

 You moved into the living room with Bobby in your arms, taking a seat on the sofa. Roger watched John and Veronica leave the driveway through the window, and you were saying inaudible, silly things to Bobby as he happily smiled at the faces you were also making.

 Roger looked over his shoulder to you, and your eyes flitted to him. "Rog, d'ja think you could get me a bottle from the refrigerator, please?" 

 He nodded quickly, and rushed out of the room, returning only moments later with a bottle. 

"Thanks, Love," you took the bottle from him, completely missing the look of pride sporting his face, but it didn't matter. You flipped the bottle, and Bobby, on instinct, reached out for it. You helped him hold it up, cooing about how hungry he was as he sucked the bottle non-stop. 

Roger watched you intently from the other side of the coffee-table, biting the nail of his thumb as he took note on how to feed Bobby. Or... how you were feeding him. 

 Your eyes moved up to him again, catching notice of his intense stare. "... D'ja wanna feed him?" You asked Roger gently. 

 He froze up for a moment, pointing to himself in silent questioning. You nodded, and Roger's cheeks darkened a few shades. 

 "Come over. He won't bite," you teased, tilting your head in the direction of the empty cushion next to you, which Roger occupied not moments later. 

 He reached out to balance the bottle for Bobby now, and you let go of it. Roger grinned airily when he realized he was doing it. You smiled warmly at how proud Roger looked. 

 "Here," you reached one of your hands out to grab the wrist of his free hand. You pulled his arm over, and Roger watched you closely as you slowly put Bobby in his grasp. You adjusted his posture a little bit, putting a hand over your heart. 

 "You're both adorable," you sighed, rising to your feet and slipping into the kitchen for a moment. Roger looked down at Bobby, smiling a little as the baby stared at him with his big round eyes as he continued to suck the milk from his bottle. 

 "Auntie Y/n was right, wasn't she? You are very hungry," Roger let a chuckle pass his lips as he watched this kid in astonishment. He was so small. How could someone so small eat seemingly so much? 

 When you returned, Bobby was nearly done with his bottle. "What a good boy! You ate all your food! Good job!" Bobby smiled at your praise, and Roger's expression matched. 

 "I can take him now, if you'd like. I know he may be a little heavy, and your arm'll fall asleep at some point." Roger kept silent until Bobby was completely done the bottle, who'd pulled away from it entirely. 

 You scooped Bobby up and burped him, to which you responded "ooh, big burp," and you took this moment to eye the clock on the wall. 

 "Nine o'clock?! You still have a whole hour to be up, Honey Bear," you gasped, earning a happy squeal from the baby. "Maybe some Play Time would be good to tucker you out, huh?" 

 "Play Time?" Roger asked rather excitedly. You laughed at his enthuisasm, nodding at his question. 

 "Can I play with him?" 

 "Well what are you gonna play?" 

 "Peek-a-Boo, probably," he admitted lamely. You just shook your head with a smile, shifting to sit cross-legged and facing Roger. You set Bobby on your lap so he was also facing him. 

 Roger's smile widened so much he could barely keep his eyes open. He also sat cross-legged, facing you and Bobby. 

 He put Bobby's empty bottle on the coffee table, rubbing his hands together in an epic preparation to play the most intense game of Peek-a-Boo known to man... 

 He pressed his hands over his face, and you gasped playfully. "Bobby! Oh my goodness! Uncle Roger's Gone!" 

 "Peek-a-Boo!" Roger exclaimed as he parted his hands from his face, Bobby's eyes widening, as well as his toothless grin. He giggled, though it was short-lived, for when Roger put his hands over his face again, Bobby fell silent. That is, until-- 

 "Peek-a-Boo!" 

 The child's laughs were contagious. Your head was thrown back as you laughed uncontrollably at the high giggles, and Roger took this time to just drink in how you looked when you weren't paying any mind to your surroundings. 

 The more of this situation he let himself become aware of, the easier it was for him to imagine the both of you in a place like this in the future, near or far. He was finally understanding why John loved being home so much. 

 Roger wouldn't admit it then, but he would give anything to be able to come home from work to this: a baby, and you. 

 You tilted your head back down, and before you could catch Roger staring right through you, he hid himself behind his hands again. 

 Peek-a-Boo lasted a little bit longer, but you and Roger eventually brought Bobby upstairs after he'd nearly fallen asleep in your lap. 

How a baby could have fallen asleep during Peek-A-Boo, you didn’t know. 

You set him down in his cradle, and rocked it slowly as Bobby drifted off to bed. You couldn't believe how well-behaved and quiet Bobby was, but you were not complaining; No, Sir. 

 Roger watched the both of you from the dresser, thumbnail between his teeth like earlier. 

 When you were sure Bobby was asleep, you caressed his soft pale cheeks with the back of your index finger before standing and tiptoeing away from the cradle. Roger got the door for you, and the both of you watched through the crack in the door for a moment or two before closing it completely. 

 "What now?" Roger asked gently. You shrugged before whispering, "Anything you want, really. Think of this time as a break." Roger nodded slowly, but made no move to leave his spot in front of the door. 

 "What will you be doing?" He asked after a moment. "Probably preparing for bed. We only have about seven hours of sleep if we're lucky, but he'll probably need to be taken care of in the middle of the night." 

You pursed your lips in thought. "Let's just head to bed, Rog, get as much sleep as we can." He only responded with a nod. You followed him down the hall, but disbanded to your separate rooms. You were taking John and Veronica's room, while Roger was occupying the bed in the spare room. 

 You turned at the threshold of the door, as did Roger. You looked at him wordlessly, as did he to you. 

 "G'night, Roger," you yawned gently into your hand. 

 "G'night, Y/n," Roger whispered back as you both inched your doors shut. 

Roger leaned up against the door as soon as it closed, and he let out a deep breath. 

 You both had to be here for two days, and not even two hours in, Roger was fuelling this domestic fantasy of his rather than fulfilling it. 

 He enjoyed every single minute of this, but with each passing second, Roger became increasingly aware of how much time was running out for the both of you to achieve this dream. 

 It stung, because Roger wasn't even sure if you wanted this. Of course you'd shown distaste for having children at this age, but even looking passed that, would you really want the father of your kids to be Roger Meddows Taylor, of all people?

The Sex Symbol, Roger Taylor? The sarcastic prick, Roger Taylor? The fuck-friend, Roger Taylor? 

Roger's chest ached as he pushed himself off the door and towards his bed. 

 Of course you wouldn't. 

 You could do so much better. 

 You sat up abruptly when you heard it. 

 Crying. 

 You tossed the comforter off your body and threw your robe on, which was lying at the end of the bed. You opened your door, making your way to the nursery, silently hoping he hadn't been crying for too long. 

 You yawned weakly into your hand before opening the door. When you stepped into the nursery, you didn't expect Roger to be there, in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, Bobby in his arms as he fed him another bottle.... 

But there he was. 

 "Needed a changin', and then he was hungry," he explained quietly. You crossed your arms over your chest, observing how Roger held Bobby comfortably, and perfectly. 

 "Thought you didn't know how to take care of children, yet here you are changing and feeding him without my help." 

 "I never said I didn't know how to care for them, I said I was iffy with them," he corrected softly, never taking his eyes off the featherlight hairs on Bobby's head.

 You raised an eyebrow, though Roger was focused on the child in his arms. 

  You couldn't even feed him on his own earlier, and now you're the Nappy Master? Yeah. Alright. 

 "That's not what you told me on the lift earlier today," you argued lightly, hands on your hips. 

 Roger sighed, crossing one leg over the other as he rocked slowly in the chair. "Maybe I wanted you to help me, alright?" You offered a sad smile, and he accepted it as a gentle apology. 

 The corners of his lips twitched upward as his eyes fell back to Bobby. "'N fact, the more I spend with this little guy, the more I wish I had a kid." He looked up to you. 

"Crazy to think, huh? Once the King of One-Night Stands wanting a family," he spoke as if the concept were a funny joke; a paradox, even. 

 It was your turn to stare from the bookshelf on the other side of the nursery. 

 "... I know we have this arrangement and everything, and this was supposed to work out because neither of us wanted families of our own," you tensed at his words, but your shoulders fell when he said, "... and don't fret, I'm not gonna leave you." 

 "... But," you started for him. 

 "But," he paused. 

"... I'm starting to understand what I'll be missing out on. Just makes me sad, is all." You pushed off the bookshelf and took a seat on the floor in front of Roger, the bright moon casting almost an ethereal glow along the side of his pale, sleepy face. 

 "What would you cherish about it if you had a family, Rog?" 

 "The fact that I'm being loved for more than my body would be a start," he said. You felt your stomach drop at that. 

 "Rich coming from a guy like me, I know," he sighed. "The idea of settling down, having constants in my life.... I'm craving that. I know I'm young, and I'm not tied down in a committed relationship, and I should be cherishing this freedom but..." 

You tilted your head a little as he tried to piece together what he was about to say next. He swallowed, eyes falling to your face. 

 You looked so pretty... 

 "... What if I don't wanna be alone anymore, Y/n?"

 You hadn't expected that, but it did explain the constant one-night stands he had with groupies: He was in search of validation; and what better way than to take a girl to bed and love on her all night? 

 "I... I have so much love to give, and no one to give it to." His voice sounded weak, and he looked helplessly at Bobby, who was still suckling away at the milk in his bottle. 

 "... What if he was right...?" You frowned a little as Roger lifted his gaze to you again. 

 "Mr. Garrison. I mean, what if having children is just as rewarding as he says it is?" You hadn't noticed you'd been crying until you could taste your salty tears on your lips. You'd been reminded of your conversation with Bethany a few weeks prior, and now you were asking yourself all the same questions. 

 "We'd be missing out on a good life," you laughed upsettingly, rubbing your eyes dry with the sleeve of your robe. 

 Roger didn't say much after that. After Bobby finished eating, Roger burped him and put him back to bed. Like before, Bobby fell right to sleep. 

 Roger rose to his feet, and then helped you up gently by your elbows. You followed him out of the room, and closed the door behind you. 

 Roger slid his arm around your back and slowly walked you down to your room. You took a step through the door, and when you felt his arm fall from your body as he began mumbling his "goodnight"s, you immediately turned back and caught him by his wrist. 

 He didn't say anything, and you rushed through your head for something to say. 

"Stay," You said after another second of silence. 

 Roger's confused look melted into one of adoration, lips parted and eyebrows lifted. 

 "... Roger, I don't wanna be alone either." 

 And that did it.

 Without another word, Roger had stepped into the room with you, and he shut the door behind him. You untied your robe, and Roger watched from where he was standing as you let it drop to the floor.

 It's not like you were wearing nothing, but a long shirt and your underwear was pretty close to nothing. 

 He scooped you up in his arms silently, catching the light switch with his elbow as he slid the both of you into bed.

 You expected him to just roll back over, but when one of his palms fell to rest at your hip, head on top of yours, you couldn't help but hold your breath. 

 At this point you and Roger'd had a fair amount of sex, but being wrapped up in his arms like that; his thumbs dragging down your bare skin in lazy, invisible patterns... it was the most intimate thing you'd done with him ever.

 You only pushed yourself closer to Roger, and as you drifted off, basking in the warmth of his body heat, and drowning in the smell of his body wash, you heard him mumble, "you're not alone anymore, Doll."

_____________________________

A/A/N: Guys, the amount of notes I’ve been getting for these fics recently are blowing me out of the water! I want to thank all of you for your support by liking, reblogging, and leaving me replies. It really means a lot to me, and inspires me to go on doing what I love most: Producing these stories for you guys! I hope you all enjoyed this one. Things are only gonna get better from here! <3

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The Couple Next Door VII(Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Six Here

A/N: So, I kinda split this chapter into 2 parts bc it was so long. I’ll post the second one as soon as I post this one. I was also kinda upset bc I posted something this morning and there’s like… 2 notes on it (Thank you, fellow bloggers <3), so I’m trying to keep my mind off that.

But yes, you guys have been waiting for another chapter since February, so I’ve come to save the day (and your Quarantines)

Summary: John asks Roger for a favour.

(Read Roger as canonical, or Hardy!Roger, whatever brightens your day) 

WARNINGS: Mentions of oral sex, implications of sex, swearing probably, and maybe some errors bc I don’t wanna edit this

I’m putting the fic at a T, bc nothing really happens, but I advise to read at your own risk if you’re under 18

(Also, been waiting FOREVER to use this gif)

Roger hadn't fully crossed the threshold of the door to the control room at the studio when both Brian and John, both there way before him and Freddie, turned to him and called him over. 

 "Roger, do you know any sitters? Veronica and I are planning on going up and visiting her parents this weekend and we can't take Bobby with us."

 The look on John's face was clearly upsetting. He loved his son with all his heart, especially since Bobby was his first kid. It also probably didn't help that he was only a month or so old. 

 Roger wondered if there was ever going to be a day where he'd feel sad having to look for a nanny for a kid of his own. 

 "Just ask Brian to watch him. Surely Bobby would find entertainment in ripping all that hair from his scalp." 

 "Ha-ha. Very funny, Roger," Brian called back to him, arms and legs crossed as he spun around in his chair to face Roger head on. 

 "Chrissie and I are sharing our one year and I wanted to take her out this weekend." Roger shrugged. "Try Fred, then. He and Mary won't have a problem sitting for you, surely." 

 "Already asked, my Love," Freddie responded for John as he walked into the room, tossing a (fabulous, may I add) jean jacket down on the sofa pushed up against the back wall. 

 "Mary's visiting her father then, and I couldn't possibly care for a child on my own." 

 "You have like... fifteen cats, and you can't take care of a baby for a night or two?"

Fred just shrugged at Roger's question before taking a seat next to John. "Roger, do you think maybe you and Y/n could take him?" 

 Roger's face twisted in confusion. 

"Wait wait wait... us? Why us?!" 

 "Roger," John sounded desperate. "We will pay you guys! You can stay at our house! Everything you'll need will be there!"

 "John, I don't know..." 

 "Roger," Brian interrupted. The three other heads in the room turned to the curly-haired guitarist as he rose to his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. 

"You can use this chance to prove yourself to Y/n." 

 "Prove myself? What are you talking about?!" 

 "Don't tell us you've forgotten about that whole family issue you've been having," Freddie tisked playfully. 

 "This is your chance to show her you're father material," Brian explained, slapping Roger on the back. 

 "Look, I get you all love Y/n, and you think it's funny if I make a fool out of myself," 

 "It is pretty entertaining," John defended with a smile on his face, to which Roger glared back. 

 "But," Roger continued as Brian's hand fell back to his side. "The situation is between me and her. Not you guys." 

 "... But have you even spoken to her about it?" John asked quietly, to which Roger sighed. "It's just... It's complicated," Roger combed his hair back with his fingers. 

 "We're just trying to help, Rog. We all know you're dying to marry this girl." 

 "Shut up, Fred," Roger mumbled through his teeth. 

 "I'm just saying, marrying her would be a real problem-fixer with the whole... condo situation." 

 "They're not even dating," John reminded. 

 "Pssh. Yeah. And I'm not a Hysterical Queen," Freddie finished, kicking his legs up on the console, being mindful not to hit any buttons with the soles of his shoes. 

 "Besides, I can't think of one person I know who fucks their best friend and doesn't end up dating them in the end."

 It was Freddie, John, and Brian who pushed Roger to even begin that arrangement with you. 

 He'd set the both of you up, all along! 

 Roger opened his mouth to give Freddie a piece of his mind, and Brian's hand was already gripping onto the drummer's shoulder to hold him back from literally throwing himself at the other, entertained, quarter of the band. 

 "Hey guys," all four of them turned quickly to the source of the sound, and it turned out to be you, peeking out from behind the doorway, and revealing five paper cups of tea. "Woke up and figured I'd be nice today." 

 "Aw, could you hear your ears ringing, my Love? We were just talking about you," Freddie drawled happily. Roger glared at him as he spoke while Brian and John watched the situation unfold.

 "Me? What for?" You began pulling each paper cup from its place in the tray, and handing them out to each band member one-by-one as John cleared his throat to explain. 

 "Well, you see, Veronica wants to visit her parents this weekend, and we can't bring the baby with us. On top of that, we can't find a sitter." 

 "Well, why didn't you ask Roger? We'd be happy to take care of Bobby!" 

 "Is that so?" Freddie sarcastically asked, taking a sip of his tea before setting it down and dramatically throwing his hands behind his head. He leaned back into a relaxed state, giving Roger an amused look. 

 "Well we tried asking your Honey over here, and he said you two wouldn't be okay with it." Fred, Roger thought, is really asking for it. 

 "First of all, very funny," you smiled as you began counting on your fingers, clearly unaware of the depressing look on Roger's face when you dismissed Freddie's label for the drummer. 

 "Secondly, I love Bobby, why wouldn't we be okay with sitting for him?" 

 You glanced back at Roger before facing John again. "And thirdly, even if Roger doesn't wanna come, I will." 

John's eyes widened as a smile broke out onto his face. "So is that a yes? You'll do it?" 

 "Of course, Deaky!" 

 "Perfect! You can stay at our house and everything so we don't have to send the crib or anything with you! You're a lifesaver, Y/n!"

 "Anything for you and 'Ronica, Johnny." 

 "Well," Freddie clapped his hands once before kicking his legs off the console table and onto the floor. "Are we all good to practice now?" 

 "We should be," John confirmed as he downed some of his tea before standing up from his chair and stretching. 

 You turned back to Roger, taking a sip of your tea."I gotta go to work, Roggie. I'll see you tonight, 'round dinner, yeah?" 

 "Sure," he nodded as the room around the both of you bustled with the other three members of Queen preparing to enter the recording room. You nodded, and you turned to leave the room. 

 Roger watched you disappear behind the door, and Freddie called him to help record. 

 Despite this, Roger set his cup of tea down on the coffee table next to him, and actually took off out the door after you. 

 He assumed you'd be taking the lift, and knowing there were some issues with its mechanics, he knew for sure he could beat the lift to the bottom floor just before you could leave if he took the stairs. 

 Sure enough, when the doors to the lift opened on the ground floor, Roger was waiting for you on the other side. 

 It startled you, and before you could chastise him for scaring you, he stepped into the lift.

 "Quick talk before you leave," he mumbled hurriedly as he shut the lift's doors. 

"What?" You frowned in confusion. 

 "Look," he sighed. He tried to ignore how quiet it was in the lift, but it was hard to do that when he was the only one talking. 

 "That whole thing... with John and his son... I panicked." 

 God, he could hear himself thinking. 

 "I don't know anything about kids, let alone babies. I didn't wanna take responsibility for something I don't know how to care for." 

 "And I do," you responded, offering a warm smile to Roger before taking another drink of your tea. 

 "Love, you've nothing to worry about. I cared for my cousin in high school when he was just a baby. I've no issue in showing you the ropes."

 "I thought you were iffy with kids, like I am." 

 "I'm just “iffy” with the idea of becoming a mother, and having children of my own," you corrected, nudging him in the arm when your comment didn't gauge a reaction from him. 

 You just figured the neighbours and their expectations of the both of you were on his mind.

 "Hey, it's not like any of our neighbours are gonna see us with Bobby. We'll be at John's the whole time, right? Out of sight, out of mind."

 "Yeah, I guess." Roger shrugged. 

 "Don't think this will change anything. We're doing this for a friend, not to appease the old people surrounding our condo." 

 Roger didn't say anything, his eyes cast to the floor. Of course this was bothering him, and although you thought it was for all the wrong reasons, he never admitted to you why he was actually uneasy about the whole thing. 

 "Roger," you sighed, rubbing circles on his back with your free hand. "We'll be okay." 

 You held out your pinky from your paper cup as a promise. "... Trust?" 

 Roger looked at your innocent eyes and hopeful smile, and that boy caved in so fast he hadn't realized he solidified the promise until after speaking. "Trust, Y/n," he breathed gently. 

 You unlinked your pinky from Roger's, and you caught him frown. 

 "Better not be moody when you get off work," you warned playfully to him, opening the lift's door. 

 "And why is that?" Roger lightly challenged back, trying a smile, and offering it to you when it felt right. 

 You turned on your heel as you walked out, eyelids lowering as you lazily grinned at Roger. 

 "Because dinner and a blowjob will be waiting for you at home this evening," you said matter-of-factly. 

 You almost laughed at the starstruck look in the blond's eyes, mouth hanging open, and face burning a deep red. 

 You tapped the lift's button to send Roger back to the floor he needed. As the lift's doors began to close, Roger watched you turn and make your way to the building's entrance. 

 "See you tonight, Drummer Boy," you called over your shoulder to him. The lift's doors finally shut completely, and Roger stood in absolute dumbfoundment until the lift opened again. 

 He really couldn't believe how lucky he was to be able to have you. 

 As a friend, and, of course, as a stress-reliever. 

He made sure to keep a smile on his face the rest of the day. 

 When any of the guys questioned him, he'd just respond with a shrug, the tips of his ears flushing the same colour as his shirt. 

 And when Roger got home that night, dinner was most definitely ready for him... 

 Though with the look you were giving him as soon as the two of you sat at the table, you both made a silent agreement to head upstairs and just skip to dessert.

______________________________

A/A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long to post. The next one will be up within the next 2 hours. Thank you all for being so patient. I love Y’all.

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Hey, I'm not dead

I'm sorry I've been inactive. This quarantine is kicking my ass, and I've had no motivation. It's all coming back, now though, so y'all should expect a new TCND chapter soon.

So, I'm also a massive Beatles fan and I watched Across The Universe (one of my faves) last night baked as hell and now I have inspiration to write about some of the Bug Boys. I just wanted to know what Y'all would think about me expanding my writing to more than one character. (Trust me, I love Rogie, but I also wanna see who else I'm capable of writing as)

Thank you all for your patience ❤❤

The Couple Next Door VI (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Five Here

A/N: Y’all, I know this was kinda filler and may not make a whole bunch of sense bc I was half asleep while writing this, so I apologize if this is shit. I legit thought I was going somewhere with this, but I think I’ll find some more inspiration after posting this part.

Again, I am so sorry.

Summary: Y/n comes down with a case of Baby Fever; She and Roger talk a little more about their “agreement”.

(Whichever Roger you want, real or Borhap. Whatever flies your kite.)

WARNINGS: Swearing most likely, Slow burn, mentions of sex, etc. I’m sorry if I forgot some.

This chapter will be brought back down to a T, but read at your own risk.

When you woke up from your deep sleep the following morning, you weren't expecting Roger to be by your side.

 And when you turned to glance over your shoulder, you were in no way shocked to find the space next to you empty. 

 "At least he didn't show me the door as soon as he woke up," you mumbled to yourself mid-yawn. You stretched your body out, and relaxed again. You nearly fell back to sleep, but you knew you had to get up. 

 The sun's rays flooded Roger's bedroom through the open window, making the off-white walls appear brighter than they actually were. 

 You were happy to see the clouds from the previous day dispersed and London was finally getting the sunshine it deserved. 

 Eventually, after a long while of you trying to convince yourself to get up, you tossed the blankets to the side to start the day, only to find, through your bleary eyes, that you were missing all of your clothes. 

 You had no problem with this, considering the previous night's circumstances, but you found it strange that you used to hate sleeping naked, though you had the most refreshing sleep in your entire life doing it.

 You didn't dwell on the thought much longer. You climbed out of bed and walked around the room, searching for your pyjamas, or underwear, or something to leave the bedroom in. 

 Then you stopped. 

 "I don't need fucking clothes." Roger was probably at practice. And even if he weren't, it's not like he hadn't seen all of you before, or was never gonna see all of you again. 

 You rolled your eyes at yourself, turned on your heel, and moved towards the bedroom door. 

 You caught sight of yourself in the mirror over Roger's dresser for a split second, and as soon as you reached for the doorknob, you rushed back to the mirror to actually get a good look at yourself. 

 From the jawline down to your hipbones, dark, painful-looking bruises and prominent bite marks were harshly pressed into the skin of your torso. 

 You had hickeys and marks on your neck, collarbone, breasts, navel, you name it.

 You hissed in pain as you tilted your head back and touched a particularly large blue-violet bruise at the side of your throat. Your flesh was tender, but, much like how you reacted when you woke up nude, you were okay with it. 

 You started thinking of the night before, and you squeezed your legs shut, though it was somewhat painful to do. 

You realized just then that the hickeys did, in fact, pass below your torso. 

 You shut your eyes and sighed heavily. 

You didn't even want to bother looking at the damage down there. 

 "As long as my foundation can cover the ones on my neck," you concluded to yourself before finally exiting the bedroom. 

 After showering and making your way downstairs to prepare a cup of coffee, you were pleased to see half a pot was already brewed and ready for you.

 You were very glad to see things between you and Roger hadn't changed a bit.

 After coffee, you decided to do some cleaning. It was your day off, though you really felt like you needed to be productive. 

 You started by doing laundry. This included yours and Roger's bedsheets, the throw blankets on your sofa and living room chair, and all of yours and Roger's dirty clothes. 

 While those were in the washer, you decided to hoover all the carpets and mats, and after that, dusting. 

 You switched the laundry over to the dryer, and started a new wash. You were basically done everything else, and it was only noon. 

 You wondered if there was something to do outside, so to pique your curiosity, out the door you went. 

 You noticed an unoccupied flowerbed by the front window, though gardening wasn't your thing. You continued on.

 Your yard's grass was constantly cut by your landlady's husband, you believed his name was Issac Welch; so you didn't have to worry about that. 

 You stood in your driveway completely defeated, and at a loss for something to do. 

 "Yoohoo, good afternoon, Y/n!" You heard a melodic call from a woman to your left. In your peripherals, you could see Bethany Lester, a young woman, maybe a little older than you, twiddle her fingers at you in excitement. 

 You didn't know whether to panic, or to roll your eyes. You were forced to meet seven more of your neighbours after having dinner with the Garrison's, and she just so happened to be one of them. 

She was kind, but a little too bubbly for your liking.

 Despite your annoyance, you thought it'd be more civil and appropriate to approach her and strike a conversation, rather than ignore her; even though you wanted so badly to just walk back inside and shut the door and not talk to anyone for the rest of the day. 

 You turned your head in Bethany's direction and smiled. "Hello, Beth!" You walked to her place, a few doors down, where she sat in a yellow sundress on the concrete with her little boy, Raymond. 

 He was playing with chalk and writing out letters and numbers, backwards and forwards, and in no exact order. 

“ Say hi to Y/n, sweetie," She requested from her son, who turned his head to you, smiled, and said, "Hello! I can draw a doggie! Wanna see?!" 

 "Sure!" You encouraged. Raymond excitedly got up from his spot and ran to the front door. He returned with a bucket containing many more pieces of chalk, most of which were different colours. 

 "How've you been, recently?" Bethany asked as she looked away from her son as he began drawing his masterpiece. 

"Still getting used to the new place?" 

 "Yeah, it's still a little weird. But kind people like you are helping me and Roger settle in quite nicely." 

Bethany smiled at your comment, and nodded her head. 

 "We like making newcomers feel welcome. We're all like one big happy family here, us neighbours," she laughed airily. 

 You smiled tightly, and laughed along with her. You found yourself slipping into a situation in which plans would probably be made before you ended the conversation, though you definitely did not want to make plans. 

 "Well, that's awfully nice of you." 

 Raymond shoved his hand into the chalk bucket, and violently moved his arm around until he pulled out, to your surprise, the exact colour he was looking for, before going back to drawing his dog. 

 Your brief interruption didn't stop Bethany from talking more, unfortunately. 

 "How are you and Roger, anyways? I always see you two out and about the complex. You two really do make a good couple." 

 You smiled warmly at Bethany's words, your face growing hot as you, once again, remembered last night. 

 "He was really great..." you paused for a second, and realized what you'd just said, eyes wide in horror. 

 "Is. He is really great. He's fine." You took a deep breath. "Sorry. I just... I get all nervous thinking about him."

 "Still in the 'Honeymoon Phase’?" Bethany guessed aloud. 

 "Been together five years. I think we're well past the ‘Honeymoon Phase’."

 Raymond stood to his feet again, and turned to look at you. You smiled at him as he approached you, and pulled on your sleeve. 

"I'm finished my doggie, Y/n!" 

 "Well, what are you waiting for?! Show me!" 

 You let Raymond pull you to the area of concrete he was working on, and he pointed to the round balloon-looking animal proudly. 

 You could tell it was a dog. He added some pretty identifiable features like a long tail, floppy ears, and a comedic tongue.

 You sat down cross legged in front of the drawing, and began complimenting it and going into full depth about how moving the drawing was to you, like how an art critic would speak about another's work.

 Raymond, although he probably had no idea what you were talking about, smiled and gushed and laughed about everything you were saying. 

 You found this utterly adorable, and told him that if you had a bajillion pounds, you would spend every single one of them on one of his drawings if he ever became an artist.

 Raymond thanked you endlessly for your kindness until he picked up another piece of chalk and gave it to you. 

"Can you draw, Y/n?" 

 "Well, I can certainly try, but I don't know if my skill will ever compare to yours!" 

You tried to draw a cat, as badly as you could, and afterwards tried to claim it as "the best doggie I can draw". Raymond just found this hilarious, and his little giggles were contagious. 

You found yourself in a laughing fit, as well. 

 "You're really good with kids, Y/n." 

 "I like to think I am," you answered with a smile as you drew a stick person with spiky hair. 

 "Have you and Roger thought about having kids?" You looked up from your drawing to Bethany. 

"Funny you say that. The Garrisons asked the same thing." She shrugged innocently. 

"You just... seem like good mother material. And he, good father material." You laughed out loud at that. 

You didn't see it for yourself. 

"Thanks, Beth, but I don't know if Roger even wants to have children. We're probably not even cut out for the job." 

 "... You've never spoken to him about it before?" 

 You shook your head. "No, not exactly." 

 Bethany frowned a little. "Cole and I had Raymond only two years after we started dating. I was fresh out of college. Your age, I bet." 

 You looked over at Raymond, who was sticking his tongue out in pure concentration as he tried to draw a perfect circle. You didn't know if you could imagine someone, especially a little kid, sharing your features. 

 "It's worth it, you know," You turned to look at your neighbour again. "Having kids, I mean. Believe me, it's tiring, and lots of hard work, but going to bed knowing you have someone else to love just..."

 Bethany sighed happily. 

"It'll make you feel really good about where you are in life." 

 The conversation you had over at the Garrisons' was more from a paternal point of view, so hearing this from an actual mother roughly your age was actually sort of... helpful. 

 "I... I think I may talk to him. Tonight, actually. About this whole... baby thing." 

"You should. I thought I wanted to wait until Cole and I were married, but things changed and now look at us: Engaged and with a three year old boy who means the world to us." 

 You smiled sadly at that. 

 It hurt because this was something you knew you may have wanted. 

 And it hurt even more because this was something you knew you were never going to have. 

 "Hey, Bird," you heard a familiar, startling voice behind you, and you turned to see, as you'd guessed, Roger, who held a hand out to pull you back to your feet. 

 "You're... You're back from practice early," you commented in a flustered tone, taking his hand anyways and letting him help you up. 

 "We figured we'd cut things short today, go home to our girlies." Your skin rose with goosebumps, and you blushed when Roger cupped your face and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. 

 "Hey, Beth, nice seeing you again," Roger said after pulling away from you, to which you puffed out a sigh of relief, though he slid an arm around your waist all too soon, and you felt your face burning again.

 "It's nice seeing you too, Roger."

 "Hi Roger!" Raymond waved enthusiastically to the drummer, and he returned the greeting by going over, getting down on his knees, and high-fiving the kid. 

 Raymond offered to show Roger the drawing of the dog he did, and you watched as Roger picked up a piece of chalk out of nowhere and started adding to the picture. 

 Your nervous stare melted away and transformed into one of admiration as you watched Roger bond with Raymond. 

 Bethany got to her feet, and approached you, her eyes on her son as he offered blue chalk to Roger, who took it gratefully and drew a flower. 

 ...

 At least you think it was a flower. 

 "Still having doubts about being parent material?" Bethany asked rhetorically, nodding towards the sight before you. 

 You knew all of this was a charade, but... 

 Watching Roger behave like this, with a child, had some sort of effect on you.

 And you knew you needed to talk to Roger about this problem sooner than later, because you really didn't want the whole neighbourhood waiting on you two for engagement news or pregnancy announcements that were clearly not coming. 

_____________________________

 You and Roger eventually returned home after saying good bye to Raymond and Bethany. The both of you stepped into the house, shut the door, and that's when the both of you noticed how quiet the atmosphere was. 

 Roger was looking at you in a shy manner, and your face warmed up as he mumbled a quiet "Hi, Y/n."

 "Hey, Rogie," you breathed back softly. He smiled a little, and toed his shoes off. You followed suit.

 "How uh... how were you this morning?" He asked, frowning a little afterwards. "... I'm sorry I didn't wake you up. I just... I didn't wanna bother you."

 "It's okay," you spoke as gently as he did. You didn't know why you were talking so quietly, but you both just silently agreed that it was necessary at that moment. 

 "I had a good sleep." 

 "Well... that's good. Um... I did too." 

 "Good." 

 "Yeah." 

 Silence took over again, and Roger, leaning against the front door, looked around the hallway to find something other than you to look at. He didn't like staring, but it's all he wanted to do when you were around. 

 You, leaning against the wall adjacent to Roger, was looking around the room with the same intentions. 

 After finding nothing else to really look at, Roger just decided to interact with you. 

 He pushed himself off his spot against the door, and slowly moved towards you. His arms slid around your body in a warm, comforting manner. His embrace was welcoming, and you found yourself giving in to his affection. 

 His lips kindly pecked your forehead like how he did outside, and you smiled a little at the gesture. He kissed your forehead again, and then your cheek. 

 Roger knew if he didn't pull away, he would just end up taking you to bed like he did the night before, but he didn't want you to feel like he was just using you for sex. 

As much as he wanted to keep up with the physical affection, he knew he had to separate from you at some point. 

 You looked up at him, and as he pulled away, it was as if you were gravitating towards him. You wanted his touch to linger for as long as possible, so your body moved with his hands as they fell to his side. 

 You cleared your throat awkwardly when you took notice of how close you'd actually gotten to Roger, and you expanded the space between the both of you by stepping back. 

"... Are you hungry?" 

 Roger only nodded to your question, and you wordlessly moved to the kitchen to find something to make for lunch. 

 Roger followed along, and watched as you started searching the cupboards for something to eat. 

 You picked up and put down many cans, pretending to read them before setting them back on their rightful shelves. Your mind was too preoccupied with the societal expectations this complex had, and that the stress was finally catching up to you. 

 Eventually, after picking up the same can of vegetable soup for the seventh time in a row, Roger made his way over, put the can back for you, and closed the cupboard. 

 He waited silently for you to start talking, and you felt defeated. 

"Roger, they're expecting us to have a baby."

 "I know." 

 "And they want us to get married." 

 "I know." 

 You frowned.

You thought back to how you and Roger behaved with Raymond.

Like you thought then, it was everything you may have actually wanted, but you couldn't have. 

And it hurt the more you repeated that in your head. 

 "... What if this wasn't such a good idea?" You asked Roger, eyes casted down at the clean marble countertops you wish you'd grown so accustomed to the previous couple of weeks living there. 

 "Hey, hey," Roger's hand squeezed your shoulder, and you looked up at him with sad eyes. 

 "You wanted this place, Y/n, and we sacrificed so much to get it for you!" 

 "... But it wasn't my idea to pretend we're a couple just for a house, Roger." 

 The glimmer of hope in Roger's eyes, like a candlewick, burnt out when you said that. 

 Was it really his fault you two were in this situation? 

 You sighed. "We agreed at the very beginning of this arrangement that things weren't going to change. We were going to avoid the neighbours at all costs, and live here for as long as we could as nothing but friends." 

 The more you spoke, the more deflated Roger felt. 

 So that's how you felt about him. 

 Nothing more than a friend. 

 "We can keep this arrangement going, as well as the uh..." you cleared your throat. "You know..." 

You gestured between the both of you and Roger nodded slowly. 

 He was rather relieved that was still on. You had a rockin' body, and you definitely knew how to use it. 

 ".. But I don't know how much longer we will survive here if we don't shut up." 

 "Yeah." Roger tried to interrupt the silence between voices to make things a little less awkward, and suspenseful. "Yeah, no, okay. Okay, I got it. No more talking." He frowned. 

 "You need to stop talking too, y'know," he said quietly, in the kindest tone he could. "You tend to panic and say random shit and that may not be good for us, either." 

 You nodded. "Been trying to work on that. It's hard to avoid these people!" 

 "This morning, Charles was standing outside and immediately started a conversation with me. It was almost like he was waiting for me." 

 You shivered unpleasantly. "That's pretty creepy," you mumbled in a funny voice, all of a sudden. It was one you used in high school all the time when Roger was turned down by a girl; and, believe it or not, happened a lot more often than one would think. 

 "Tell me about it," Roger responded through a giggle, his eyes began to shine like they had been when you'd first walked into the kitchen, ecstatic you decided to lighten the mood with your little side comments. 

You offered him a pleasant smile, and reached up for the cupboard's handle again to properly search for something to cook, but Roger closed it again with the palm of his hand. 

 "... I really hope you know that... everything I said last night... about you, and how pretty you are..." 

 You looked from one blue eye to the other in wait. You would have hated how many times Roger paused during a conversation, but... it made your heart soar. 

 "Everything was true."

 And that is when your heart skipped a beat. 

 "I know, Rogie," was all you said in response, reaching up and kissing his cheek before moving past him to look into the other cupboards for lunch-potential foods.

 Roger was grinning from the innocent peck you gave him, though you were unaware of it because his back was turned to you. 

 But you had a feeling that's just what he was doing. 

 Though you were happy Roger was feeling a little better, you still had this dark feeling hanging over you.

 If you wanted a domestic life with a husband and children, you would have to leave Roger, and this house. 

 But on the other hand, this was your home; Roger was your home. And to stay with him, you would have to give up your dreams of being a caring mother, and a loving wife. 

 You leaned your head sadly against the cupboard door. 

 You silently wondered if there even was a way you could have everything you wanted.

_____________________________

A/A/N: After editing a little, I don’t think this part is horrible, but it’s not the best. Hopefully the next chapter will be good enough for us to forget about this one.

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The Couple Next Door V (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Read Part IV Here

A/N: I am so sorry I couldn’t get this out on Valentine’s Day like I promised. I wanted to have a wonderful day with my boyfriend, and we ended up falling asleep and I found no time to post. I really am sorry.

But anyways, I’m not sure how well this chapter is gonna go because the last one was kinda slept on :/ BUT, to be fair, the previous one had no reader, and it was literally just dialogue, so I get it. I just really hope this one does better.

Summary: Roger goes home with a proposal to change his deal with Y/n.

(Real or Borhap! Roger. Whatever seasons your chicken.)

WARNINGS: Swearing, sLoW bUrN, EXTREME Mentions of sex, but again, No SmUt, mature romantic subject matter, I think that’s it. This one was a lil sad too.

Hun, this is about to be steamy, so this IS rated M. Read at your own risk, peeps, and if you’re under 18, maybe skip the ending of this one.

Roger pulled into his driveway, and after he took his key out of the ignition, rather than going inside immediately, he sat in the driver’s seat listening to the loud taps of raindrops hitting his windshield. 

 He rubbed his face stressfully, glancing over to the rather expensive bouquet of flowers along with the stupid, cliché heart shaped box which only contained the most expensive chocolate Roger could find in any London supermarket. 

 "If this is too much, she’ll kill me,“ he mumbled to himself before reaching for the purchases and pushing the door open. 

 And out into the rain he went. 

 He unlocked the front door after being completely annihilated with the heavy, stinging rain falling fast and largely from the stormclouds above. 

 He was able to make it into the house before the lightning began to strike, and as he toed off his shoes in the front hallway, his hair dripping with water, the low rumble of thunder vibrating the floorboards below his socks. 

 No matter, he was safe, and at home, and… something smelled really good.

 Roger removed his soaked jacket and hung it up on a hook in the hallway behind the front door before moving deeper into the dark house. The only light that could be seen on was in the kitchen, at the end of the hall. 

 He turned into the room and stopped in the threshold, taking in your lovely appearance as you wordlessly chopped up carrots, turned away and unaware of the visitor behind you. 

 Roger quietly set the flowers and chocolates on the counter before moving behind you, and after you put the knife down, he rested his freezing, wet hands on the back of your neck. 

 Almost immediately, your shoulders rose to your ears, and you let out a loud squeal, turning on your heel and shoving Roger backward, to which he laughed hysterically as he backed into the counters on the other side of the room.

 "You scared me!” You groaned before turning back to dinner stubbornly. 

 "Ah, Love, I’m sorry. The look on your face was priceless.“ He softly combed his fingers through your hair, pushing it to the side to leave a soft, warm, innocent kiss on the back of your neck, where he’d just placed his hands. 

 At the contact, you shut your heavy eyes and hummed gently in appreciation. 

"Make that noise again, and we may end up having a late dinner,” Roger mumbled hotly, and deeply. Your face burned when you felt the drummer’s lips curl into a devilish smile against your skin.

 "Y’know, I bought you something today,“ he continued on, and you swallowed nervously. 

"Yeah?” You squeaked, to which Roger hummed in return, his hands planting on your hips over your clothes to not disturb the warmth of your body with his freezing fingers. He gave your hips a little squeeze, and let another hum reverberate in the back of his throat.

Your cheeks glowed pink, and you wordlessly brought your thighs closer to one another. 

 Make that noise again, and we may end up having a late dinner, you thought to yourself.

 "Oh yes. Because you’re such a good girlfriend to me.“ And like that, his touch was gone. 

You opened your eyes, and looked over your shoulder, where you found Roger cutting the stems off the bouquet of flowers one-at-a-time. Your eyes fell to the heart-shaped-box, and Roger put the knife in his hand down to move the box closer to you. 

”’S’ll be our dessert,“ he smiled kindly. You offered a friendly smile back, your cheeks still warm from earlier, as you turned your attention back to dinner.

 "Y'know… if we even get there,” Roger finished. Your eyes widened and you turned your gaze back to him. The little bugger was back to cutting the stems off the flowers he bought you, his lips gently upturned in an innocent grin. 

 "… Are you okay?“ 

 "Hm?” Roger opened up one of the cupboards to retrieve a flower vase. He moved to the sink, ran the faucet, and began filling it with water. 

 "What are you talking about? I feel great.“ 

 "You’re just…” You squinted your eyes. “You’re acting really weird." 

 Roger shut off the faucet, and leaned back against the counter to look at you. 

He was giving you this look… it was like how he looked at you at the Garrison’s the week before. But there was something off about it. 

His gaze seemed… Darker.

 "Just getting my mind off things,” was all he had to say before picking the vase up from inside the sink and returning to the flowers on the counter. 

You tried your best to return your focus back onto dinner, reaching for another carrot to cut up. Meanwhile, Roger was dissolving the plant nutrients in the water.

By the time you reached the final carrot, the room was still quiet, and Roger, moving to pick up the bouquet and redirect them into the vase, paused his movements to look over his shoulder at you.

 Roger watched intensely as you moved around the little area you were working in. His eyes were fixed on the back of your head, but as time progressed, he began to find it difficult to keep his eyes from viewing lower, and lower… 

 "… Y/n, have I ever told you how pretty you are?“ Roger asked suddenly. You turned to him in startled confusion, and Roger made a face of regret. He mentally chastised himself for saying that. 

This was how he picked up women. You were not just a woman. You were much, much more than that.

 You laughed nervously, and awkwardly turned back to the carrot that had nearly been forgotten on the cutting board. You tried distracting yourself from Roger’s strange behaviour by dicing each carrot slice you prepared. 

 "You do realize you’re not in public, right, Rogie? You don’t have to be that nice to me." 

 "But I’m being serious.” The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board ceased again, and you finally dropped the knife to properly approach Roger.

 You crossed your arms over your chest and sighed in pretend annoyance, though the charade didn’t last long. 

“Alright. You got me. What do you want?" 

 "A favour." 

 "What kind of favour?” you challenged with a smile, one you’d tried to suppress, but gave in to. 

Classic Roger, you thought, King of bribery AND flirting.

 Roger opened his mouth to speak again, but the words were caught in his throat. 

He suddenly went pale, and your smile contorted into one of worry. “… Roger?”

 "O-um… well Y/n, y-you see, uh…“ Roger’s gaze fell helplessly to the floor as he stumbled over his words nervously, his cheeks growing hotter with every try. This especially worried you. 

 Roger was the most confident man you knew, and watching him be this hesitant about something really bothered you. In a case like this, you would have probably made fun of him, but you could see how stressed he must have felt, so you rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

 It was as if your touch was magic. Roger’s stuttering ceased, and he looked at you with big round eyes. 

Then he took a deep breath. 

"Y/n, I talked to the guys today.”

 "… About?“ 

 "Us. This…” Roger gestured to the house. “… Situation we’re in.” You both knew he was stalling from asking what he needed to, but you tried to keep patient. 

“Look, Y/n, I feel awful, and I know I made a promise to you about no groupies…" 

 ”… This is what this is about?” you asked dryly. “You not being able to have women over?“ 

 "What?! No! Well– yes, but–” you removed your hand from Roger’s shoulder and went back to cutting vegetables, the sound of the blade hitting the wooden cutting board getting louder and louder as time ticked on.

 All of that stuttering just for him to tell you he needed sex. Of course you were pissed off, and Roger knew that. You had a deal. In fact, he was horrified with himself. And now that you were angry, he was certain you would say no to the burning question he needed to ask. 

 "Then go.“ You told him sharply. "Go find someone to sleep with. Just don’t bring her back here. If you’re ever caught, we are done for." 

 Roger’s heart ached at your words. He tried to speak, but, like before, he couldn’t get the words out. 

He didn’t care if it was too late, he had to tell you he wanted you; that he needed you. 

 "Y/n," 

 "I said go!” You turned to him angrily as you shouted, and Roger could swear your eyes were glassy with fresh, unfallen tears, though you blinked them back stubbornly. 

 He breathlessly apologized, and rushed out of the house as fast as possible, leaving you alone in the kitchen, homemade pizza in the oven almost ready to come out, and a half prepared garden salad that would never be eaten.

_________________________________

 Roger stood in the candy section of the supermarket for a second time that day, red eyes scanning the shelves for something you liked. 

 Rather than listening to you and getting laid, he was more focused on rebuilding the relationship he was unintentionally tearing down. 

 He needed to apologize to you as soon as possible, and going empty handed, Roger decided, was not a good idea. 

 "Pissed off your girlfriend too, mate?“ Roger looked to his right to see another man his age, looking at the wide selection of romantically-wrapped sweets before him. 

 ”… Yeah, you could say that.“ 

 "Figured. See, in times like this,” the stranger began as he slowly walked down the aisle before reaching out and grabbing a cheap candy bar from off the shelf. 

“The best thing you can do is buy her her favourite candy bar, give her a kiss, and tell her how much you appreciate and love her.”

 Roger silently thought this to himself, and although he wanted to somehow thank the guy for his advice, he was already giving Roger an encouraging slap on the shoulder and exiting the aisle to pay for his girlfriend’s gift. 

______________________________

 When Roger got home it was just before midnight. He made sure to enter the house and close the door as quietly as he could in case you were sleeping. 

 After toeing his shoes off and hanging up his once again wet jacket, he went to the kitchen. There, he set a large bag of your favourite candy bars down on the counter so the rustling of the plastic bag didn’t wake you up. 

 He pulled a carton of cigarettes out of his back pocket, and opened it to retrieve a new one. He mumbled a curse when he realized he only had two left, and he hadn’t bothered to pick any more up when he was in town more than once that day. 

 He just tossed the nearly empty carton on the table, and that’s when he saw the vase of flowers he neglected to finish preparing. 

They were placed and displayed beautifully and intricately; the definite works of a woman. Roger couldn’t pull off making such a display if he tried to do it on his own. 

 He guessed that was one reason to appreciate you: your creativity. 

 But he appreciated you for many other things. The list was just so long; if Roger had to name everything he appreciated about you, he wouldn’t even know where to start, and his rambles would surely never end. 

 He placed the cigarette between his lips, and wandered to the back door. He took his time getting there. 

There was no need to hurry. 

 He slid the door open a crack, and lit his cigarette with a lighter he’d left on the counter. 

 After the first inhale, and watching as he blew the smoke out into the wet, miserable night, Roger already began to feel a little better.

 He still felt guilty about his earlier conflict with you, but he planned out and repeated what he wanted to say to you to and from the supermarket. 

 "I don’t want just anyone. I want you.“ 

Like his journey home, Roger began mumbling the statement like a mantra between his draws of smoke. 

 After getting to the filter of the cancer stick, Roger flicked it outside before sliding the patio door shut and locking it. Afterwards, he went upstairs, prepared for bed, and went to his room. 

 There, he turned his bedside lamp on and retrieved a notebook, his book of lyrics and brainstorm ideas for songs, from under his pillow. He opened it up and began writing in it. 

 Hearing a knock on his door was the last thing Roger expected that night, but when you slowly walked in, and stared at him from your place at the door, he put the book down and gave you his full attention. 

 "Rog… Look," 

 "Y/n, it’s okay, it’s okay.” You pursed your lips, and Roger beckoned you over with his finger. 

You slipped into the room completely, and shut the door behind you. 

 When Roger felt the dip in the mattress, he reached out to touch you. He didn’t have an exact plan on what he was doing, so his hand fell to your back, and he decided to rub slow, soothing circles around your shoulder blades. 

 "… Y/n, I don’t want just anyone,“ he finally blurted out after a while of silence. 

You looked at him in confusion, and Roger’s hand stopped rubbing your back. The silence in the air was thick, and Roger tried his best not to start panicking again. 

"I uh…” He removed his hand from your back and awkwardly shifted in his spot. 

“I wanted to explain earlier that… that I wanted to um… maybe… talk to you about uh… adding onto this… this agreement." 

 The look you gave him was devastating. Big, sad eyes, and downturned lips. You felt guiltier than ever. You wanted to apologize for what you’d said, and how you acted earlier, but you didn’t even bother.

 Roger wouldn’t have allowed it, anyways. 

 "Yes…?" 

You asked gently, reaching your own hand out and placing it reassuringly on his thigh. Roger stared down at your hand for a moment, taking a shaky, deep breath. 

 ”… Don’t you think it’d… y'know… be easier if… we were friends but… helped each other uh…“ he couldn’t continue further than that. He tried, but he physically couldn’t say any more. 

 "Are you… suggesting what I think you are?" 

 "If what you’re thinking is that we can sleep with one another with no strings attached then yes.” His words rushed out of his mouth like a flood, and Roger felt as if he was overheating. 

He wouldn’t dare to speak, or move until you did.

 And he was glad to have made that decision. 

 You, after recovering from the shock of Roger’s confession, wasted no time in gripping Roger by the hips, and pulling yourself up into his lap. 

Roger exclaimed in surprise when you did this, and after wrapping your legs around his hips, your fingers slid back into his blond hair, and you kissed him with a hunger neither of you expected you to possess. 

 Kissing you, Roger decided, was better than he ever dreamed it could be. Your lips were soft; your kiss was forceful and controlling, only making this more enjoyable for him; and the way you were touching him– pulling his hair and tightening your legs around him– teased the absolute hell out of him. 

 And he loved every single passing second of it.

 Roger’s hesitation melted away quicker than he expected, and in no time one of his hands was gripping your thigh while the other held the back of your head.

You pulled at Roger’s hair harder, and a smirk played at your lips as he let a deep growl elicit from the back of his throat. 

You let your tongue slide past Roger’s lips and into his mouth, to which he made another, pleased noise. Both of his hands grabbed your hips, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the waistband of both your pyjama bottoms and your underwear beneath as he forced his tongue into your own mouth. 

 You encouraged him to continue when you whined rather loudly, practically begging him to kiss you like that again. 

 His confidence and ego only inflated from there. 

He moved the both of you around so you were lying beneath him, his hands on either side of your head. He dipped down to kiss and suck your neck like it was the only thing he knew how to do. 

 His hips lowered down onto yours, and you, without thinking, whined again and slammed your hips up to excitedly grind against Roger’s, who let out another deep, guttural moan. 

His hands tightened into fists as grasped his bedsheets beneath you and pulled at them tightly to restrain himself from either being too rough with you, or taking you right then and there. 

 In fact, he had to eventually force himself to pull back, but just enough to get a good look at you. He noticed your beautiful, untouched hair just waiting to be pulled; your hot, red face; your parted lips swollen from the assault of his own; and your quick, heaving chest.

 His eyelids lowered and he licked his lips. 

 You were the most beautiful thing he had ever set eyes on. 

 He shifted his hips around once or twice more, and when he watched you shut your eyes and bite your lip, he decided he couldn’t handle your erotic behaviour any longer. 

 "Fuck,“ he huffed deeply, hands releasing the blankets beneath you to grip your ass. You opened your eyes slowly, and smirked. 

You, of all people, had Roger Taylor hot, bothered, and completely at your mercy.

Roger reached over without breaking eye contact with you to retrieve a condom and a bottle of lube from the dresser in his bedside table, meanwhile, you clicked the lamp on the very same table off. 

 It was time to get to work, and see how beneficial this new addition to the deal would be for the both of you.

_____________________________

A/A/N: Man, I REALLY hope this chapter does well. Things are only gonna get better from here, and I promise! No more lacking!

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The Couple Next Door IV (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part III Here

A/N: Happy Early Valentine’s Day, Y’all! I wrote a lot for the next part of this series, so I decided to split them up in two chapters. I’m posting this one tonight, and the other will be up at some point tomorrow afternoon.

This chapter is in 3rd Person Omniscient for Rogie like the previous one, and the reader will not be in this chapter but the next one, so I apologize if it’s not that good.

Don’t forget to show your support and enjoyment for the fic by leaving likes, comments, and reblogging!

Summary: Roger has a chat with the band, and does some more thinking.

(Roger can be Ben Hardy!Rog or Real!Rog. Whatever stirs your soup.)

WARNINGS: Swearing, s l o w  b u r n, Mentions of sex (BuT nO sMuT [yet(?)]), no revision and editing bc I’m lazy, I think that’s it.

This one is leaning more towards an M rating than a T, so read at your own risk.

“Eh… no no no. Take it from the top. Roger?”

 The blond looked through the window to Freddie, who just made it to the practice. 

 He was wearing some ridiculous flashy outfit as usual, a pair of massive white sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose while an equally distracting burgundy coat made its presence known on the singer’s shoulders. Whether he wore a shirt underneath is still a mystery.

 In his right hand, Freddie held a steaming hot cup of tea, gripped tight by his long fingers, each nail painted black. From the waist down, although he couldn’t see, Roger wouldn’t be surprised if Freddie was wearing booty shorts.

 "You okay, Love?“ 

 He only responded with a simple thumbs up, and an unenthusiastic look on his face; and although Fred didn’t seem too convinced, the music started playing, and Roger tried his part again.

 "Been out of the flow all morning,” Brian informed the frontman, biting his thumbnail and crossing his legs from the wall he leaned against. “He got here, and didn’t count us in the first few times we played. Figured he needed some time to play for himself.”

 "Hm,“ Freddie acknowledged, taking a peek at some loose papers scattered around the control desk and taking a sip of his tea.

 "And how long ago did you two decide this?“ 

 "Forty five minutes ago,” John grumbled at his spot at the control desk, legs crossed, and head propped up with his hand in bore. 

 "We tried confronting him and he’s not speaking,“ Brian explained. “Gave you a call and no one answered the phone. We assumed you were on your way.”

 Freddie looked around the room, and he pointed at the second, empty seat at the control desk. “Where’s–”

 After another timing mistake, Roger flung his drumstick towards the window, shouting profanities when the stick just riccoched and hit him right back, and startling the other three men in the process. 

 "… Y/n,“ Freddie finished carefully, eyes wide and focused on Roger’s movements. 

 "We both assume she’s got somethin’ to do with it. He won’t say anything.” John mumbled with a shrug. 

 Freddie pursed his lips, and sighed, scanning the control desk for the PA system’s button. 

 "Rog, my Love. Just… put the drumsticks down.“

 Roger, who was about to send his second drumstick against the wall to meet the fate his first one did, lowered his arm slowly to his side, eyeing his band’s frontman in the window, who was twiddling his fingers at him. 

 "Good. Now, come on in here. We’re all gonna sit down. Have a chat.“ 

 Roger’s shoulders slumped, and he left the recording room so he could regroup with his three other bandmates. Roger just frowned. Just as he suspected, Freddie was sporting a pair of body shorts. 

 Freddie moved his eyes from Roger to the empty seat next to John. 

 The drummer dropped into the chair, letting it roll him a little bit away from the staring eyes of the others. 

 "The others here tell me you’ve been a little… upset, since you’ve been here this morning." 

 Roger scoffed, and tried to stand from his chair, but Freddie dropped a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

 "I know there’s something wrong,” Freddie quietly mumbled. “We just wanna help you. Tell us what’s wrong, and you’re helping us, too.”

 Roger chewed the inside of his cheek, looking guiltily towards John and Brian. “… Hope you know I didn’t mean to shout earlier, yeah?" 

 "Kind of assumed so, yeah,” John offered a kind smile, to which Roger tried to return, but he just looked uncomfortable. 

 "It’s uh… it’s just, um…“

 "Is… y'know… is y/n okay?”

 Roger’s smile fell. “Wait, why? Why would she not be okay? Did you get a phone call from her?!” Roger stood up, “oh my God, is she okay?!”

 "Hey, hey, hey, calm down, calm down!“ Brian intervened, hands up. "She’s fine. We’ve heard nothing from her. We were just asking you.”

 Roger sat back down, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and sighing deeply. “Look, I’m sorry. Yes. Yeah, it is her. She’s… Driving me nuts right now.”

 "Why now? You two were perfectly fine last week.“

 "It’s been the interactions with the neighbours,” Roger complained. “do you know how hard it is not to start sweating every time we hold hands in public now?”

 John frowned. “But… You hold other girls’ hands all the time. Why would y/n be different?”

 "I don’t know! I don’t know and that’s why I’m like this!“

 Freddie smirked, and Roger could sense the glint in his eyes despite them still being covered by his sunglasses.

 "Seems to me,” Freddie popped his lips. “Roger’s in love with y/n.”

 John smirked at the thought, and Brian had this wide grin on his face Roger really wanted to slap off.

 "Fred, I really don’t think that’s the problem here–“ 

 ”‘Ts weird. I’ve always had a thing for y/n, maybe I’m in love with her.“ 

 "Seeing a girl naked by accident doesn’t mean you’re in love with her, John.” Roger snapped back nearly immediately, to which Brian chimed in: 

 "Funny how you’re the one telling John that when I had to say the same thing to you in high school.“

 Roger was mad, but he was even more embarrassed. His face was a deep scarlet, and Freddie wasn’t sure if the colour of Roger’s cheeks were because of his fury, or because he knew Brian was right. 

 "Come talk to me, Roger. Talk to the King of Love,” Freddie coaxed Roger with his index finger as he fell back dramatically on the sofa against the wall opposite the control table. 

 Roger simply rolled his eyes and relocated to the empty seat on the sofa by Freddie’s feet. The frontman kicked his bare legs out and crossed them over Roger’s lap while stretching this thin arms and placing them behind his head.

 "When’d this all start happening, Rog? I mean the weird feelings.“ 

 To this, the drummer simply shrugged. "Last week we had dinner at the neighbours’. The husband was talking about children, and marriage, and it was like…" 

 Brian and John raised their eyebrows expectantly. 

 "It was like I wasn’t acting anymore.”

 Freddie gave a knowing smile, and hummed gently. “Did you feel comfortable? Being domestic and romantic with her?" 

 "Fred, I’ve lived with those two for three years, and they have zero personal space.” Brian’s eyes moved from his reflection in Freddie’s sunglasses to the stressful gaze in Roger’s. “… is it different?”

 "Bri, I had women over all the time when we lived with you. I had no reason to have a girlfriend. I slept around, got the physical affection I needed, and she was just a friend…“

 John pursed his lips. ”Was,“

 Roger nodded a little, his eyes casting downward and burning holes into his already torn jeans. "Yeah. Was." 

 The blond suddenly looked up at his other bandmates. "We’re pretending to be a couple in a conservative, strict neighbourhood. It’s not like y/n would allow me to invite groupies home with us while catty neighbours spy on us from across the way. I’m not getting the physical attention I used to have, especially since sleeping around is impossible now." 

 The room then fell silent, and no one exactly made an immediate effort to say anything. 

 And then John gave a half-shrug. 

 "Why don’t you ask y/n?" 

 "Ask her what?”

 "Ask her to give you that attention,“ Freddie finished John’s point in a matter-of-fact tone. 

 ”No,“ Roger gasped. "No. No no no!" 

 "What? It’s a great idea,” Brian tried to reason. 

 "It’s bloody suicide! What would she think of me?! A sex-addict? A creep? A waste of time?“

 ”Roger,“ Brian stopped Roger’s listing. "She’s a single, gorgeous woman who loves you with all her heart, romantically-speaking, or not. You two already have this sort of secret commitment thing happening anyways but with housing rather than physical affection.”

 "And your point is…?“ 

 Freddie took over for Brian then with a sigh. "She has nothing to lose. You have nothing to lose. Why would adding onto your deal be a bad thing?" 

 To this, Roger didn’t respond. He didn’t have an answer. Freddie continued. "You sleep with women with no strings attached all the time. Living with your best friend while also bedding her doesn’t seem like a bad idea. What are you gonna do, catch feelings for her? You’re just horny.”

 "… Do you really think that’s all that’s wrong?“ 

 "That you’re stressed and just need a good lay?” John clarified.

 "Absolutely.“

 It was almost as if a weight had been lifted off Roger’s shoulders. All of his past issues were gone, out of his mind. 

He had nothing to worry about. 

 "There’s that smile we all needed,” Freddie gushed at Roger, who lowered his head in mild embarrassment. 

 "C'mon Rog. Let’s get to work.“ Freddie jumped up to stand before the control table, and Brian took a seat next to John. Roger returned to his drum kit inside the recording room, and after a count-in, Roger started drumming. 

 Needless to say, practice was flawless for the rest of the day.

_______________________________

A/A/N: I hope y’all enjoyed! Remember, new chapter up tomorrow!

@culturefiendtrashqueen @luvborhap @amy-brooklyn99 @scarsout @kimmietea @ohtheseboysilove @demo-wise @suavishowell @bohemianahoy @pippin248

The Couple Next Door III (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part II Here

A/N: Okay, yes, I may or may not have written this in less than a day, and no, I’m not the happiest with it. Then again, I’m not exactly always happy with what I produce. As long as my works entertain others, that’s all that matters.

But anywho, I wrote this part of the series in 3rd person Omniscient for Roger because we need to know what’s going inside that tiny head of his.

Don’t forget to leave notes, show your support and interest in my pieces by sending in a reply. All support and feedback is greatly appreciated! :)

Summary: Roger and you spend dinner at the Garrisons, and Roger does some thinking.

(Again, Borhap! or Canon! Rog, whatever tickles your peaches)

WARNINGS: Swearing, slow burn, mentions of sex (nO sMuT), mentions of drugs, alcohol, overthinking(?) idk this part made me a tiny bit sad)

I’m rating this a T, but the subject matter is a little heavier than my previous parts of this fic. I would advise you to proceed with caution.

Roger stepped out of the shower, staring at his muted reflection in the foggy mirror before reaching for a towel. He took his time towel-drying his hair, and by the time he’d dried himself completely off, the steam in the bathroom dissipated just enough for him to be able to make out his facial features in that same mirror.

 At this point he reached for the blow dryer on the right side of the counter. After fully removing the vapour off the mirror with it, he used it to completely dry his hair. 

 His fingers ran through his blond strands carefully as he tried to make sure he didn’t leave anything wet. 

 As much as Roger liked his hair, he’d rather have some girl pulling on it than him. 

 But that was besides the point. 

 Roger set down the blow dryer after a while, and just stared at himself in the mirror, his hands on either side of the vanity. 

 What the fuck was he doing? 

 He decided to fake a relationship with you, (on a limb, I may add) for the benefits of having a nice place to live. 

 It sucked that his days of sleeping around were coming to an end, though he didn’t exactly mind it.

In a way, Roger loved you. But it was like… a weird love. Almost like a “you-are-my-best-friend-and-I-would-die-for-you-but-if-you-totally-wanted-to-kiss-me-I-wouldn’t-think-twice-about-reciprocating” kind of love. 

 He’d felt like this towards you since high school, but you were with someone, and he forced his feelings down by sleeping with so many women he probably couldn’t remember any of their names if he tried. 

Eventually, with all the drugs and alcohol he consumed, and all the skirts he’d been under for the last five years, that other, almost forbidden feeling towards you, was gone. 

 Well… Until now. 

 "Rog, you good in there?“ You called through the bathroom door. The sound of your voice almost had his heart jump up into his throat. He circled a towel around his waist, and opened the door. 

 You looked him up and down, and Roger could swear he saw your cheeks glow. "Damn, you’re looking good, Rogie." 

 He choked out a strained laugh, averting his eyes to the small droplets of water on his feet. "Wel-uh.. th-thanks, um… y/n." 

 You rolled your eyes, a dopey smile on your face. "And you thought I took those compliments seriously.” You squeezed past a nearly heartbroken Roger in the threshold of the door, and you reached into the medicine cabinet for your toothbrush.

“All I need to do after this is put on my lipstick, and you’re not even dressed! We’re supposed to be over there in five minutes!" 

 This had Roger disappearing immediately into the second guest room on the left, the one you decided would be his room after he forfeited the master bedroom over to you. 

 You just shook your head before shoving your tooth brush into your mouth.  

_______________________________

"Just… be calm." 

 "I am calm. You’re the one that’s not calm." 

 "Why would I tell you to be calm if I’m not?" 

Roger was about to respond just before Anna opened the door. Roger and you immediately slapped painfully wide grins on your faces, and greeted the older woman with a soft hello as you stepped inside. 

 "Something smells good,” Roger complimented as he removed his jacket.   "Thank you, Roger. It’s almost ready. I’d give it another fifteen minutes, and then we’ll dine.“

 Roger nodded to Anna with a smile and turned towards you. He helped you take your jacket off, and you watched as he placed the coats on an empty hook on the wall. 

 He faced you again, and winked. He reached down and grabbed your hand, giving it a warm squeeze before you were both led further into the Garrison’s home. 

 Anna encouraged you both to take a seat on the sofa while she continued watching the food. 

 "Charlie kept an eye on the casserole while I grabbed the door. He’ll be out in just a minute, loves." 

 "Take your time,” you called to her as she made a beeline to the kitchen, leaving Roger and you alone. 

 Roger pursed his lips, twirling his thumbs in the sudden, and awkward silence. He took this time to examine the tidy, well-furnished home. 

 He began silently counting all of the framed photographs on the wall. 

He came across one of Anna and Charles. It seemed to have been an older one compared to some of the others. They were in wedding attire, Roger guessed, from the thirties or forties, the newlyweds brandishing bright, and ecstatic grins. 

He couldn’t help but smile back at the photograph. 

He didn’t feel as if it were a necessity to get married, but he wished he would find pure elation being with you. 

 It didn’t matter if he could never properly marry you; if he discovered you were never in love with him in the first place… or even if things did turn out that way; he just saw you. No one else. 

It had to be you. 

Roger’s eyes flitted to the right when Charles returned from the kitchen. 

 "Sorry to keep you kids waiting,“ he said sincerely, sitting down in his living room chair. 

” ’S no rush, Mr. Garrison,“ Roger assured him. 

No one really decided to say anything after that. It was silent for a few second too long, and Charles laughed a little. 

"Geez, are you guys uncomfortable? You both look tense. You’re good here. You can relax. Been a long day for you two–" 

"Charlie?" 

"Oop– Excuse me," 

Charles pardoned himself from your presence to see what his wife needed. 

You sighed heavily, and Roger’s head began to spin. 

 How could this look more natural…? 

 ”… hey um…“ Roger mumbled gently, successfully grabbing your attention, and you raised an eyebrow in confusion. 

Roger licked his lips, his hand slowly lifting and moving to hover just over your knee. His eyes refused to look back into your own.

You caught sight of his hand in your peripherals, and after looking downwards, you glanced back up at Roger. 

"Is uh… is it okay If I…?” 

You simply nodded, and Roger sighed in relief, his hand lowering onto your leg. You shifted the smallest bit closer to him, and you smiled a little at how embarrassed he was to be touching you like he would with any other girl.

You placed your hand affectionately over top of his when he started rubbing circles on your pant leg with his thumb. 

Your cheeks were a pretty shade of pink, and Roger’s were, too. 

Charles returned from the kitchen just then. “She "lost her glasses”. They were right on her face and neither of us even noticed until she saw herself in the window!“ 

You and Roger laughed along with Charles in regards to his wife’s antics. 

"But enough about her, I see her every day. Tell me more about you. How long have you had this one for, Roger?" 

The drummer smiled at you, taking a moment to himself to search your entire face for an imperfection; maybe a loose eyebrow hair, some smeared makeup, lipstick on your teeth, or even an ugly zit he could make fun of you for later. But there was nothing wrong with you. 

He couldn’t find one thing on your entire face he didn’t like. 

"I wish I could tell you I’ve had her forever, Charles…" 

You looked into his eyes. There was something… not quite right. 

It was the way he was looking at you.

He’d never looked at you like that before. 

 Not with that much adoration; and never, did you ever think, you’d describe Roger’s tone as "dripping with affection”. At least, not when he spoke of you. 

“It’s been about five years.” Roger concluded. “Best years of my life." 

"And the fact you’re still going strong makes me very happy,” Charles mused, his eyes shining with joy. 

 "Things’ll get even better. Wait until you’re married and have children!“

That statement had your blood run ice cold, and you could swear Roger’s eye twitched at the word.

Children.

"I remember when my wife told me she was pregnant. It was one of the greatest days in my life, though their actual births and my wedding day are easily the top two." 

 You opened your mouth, but no words would come out. You cleared your throat and tried again. "Uhm…” Charles turned your way. “We never really um…” you took a deep breath and tried again. “Well, we’ve never really sat down and really… discussed whether or not we even want kids.”

“No um… we just… can’t see ourselves as parents. To a baby. With our face. It just seems so… surreal.”

“Roger,” The blond swallowed, and nodded to Charles in acknowledgement. 

“Becoming a father is so rewarding. Wait ‘till you have a baby girl or a little boy, and you hold 'em in your arms for the first time. All that doubt will just wash away. Anna and I were so confident in our parenting skills, we had four more little ones!”

You couldn’t imagine having more than just one child, let alone five, or any of Roger’s, for that matter. The concept was so foreign to you, especially when it’s suggested that the father of these kids is the man who purposely puts the toilet roll on backwards because, and only because, it pisses you off.

Anna called the three of you to the table, cutting the conversation short, though you were relieved to get your mind off how hilariously ridiculous it sounded that you were sort of expected to give birth to Roger Meddows Taylor’s offspring.

He, on the other hand, couldn’t shake the idea. He spent the whole dinner on auto-pilot, trying to imagine how a child could share both his and your features. 

He watched you a lot during dessert, trying to decide his favourite part of your face, something that he would be happy for your hypothetical child with him to be graced with.

But much like earlier, he realized he loved your face so much, he couldn’t make an ultimate decision.

Much like you, Roger thought the concept was close to impossible, as well.

He didn’t want to come down with a “Baby Fever”, so he took the next chance he could to talk about something distracting. The subject was averted to music, and Roger’s drumming and things like that.

He was just glad his subconscious wasn’t focused anymore about which room in the condo would hypothetically be the baby’s.

_______________________________

“Thank you for inviting us over, Anna. That was the best casserole I’ve had in my life. Just don’t tell my mother.” Anna laughed at your joke, and teasingly assured you she wouldn’t.

Roger, after helping you put your jacket back on, held the door open for you, and after saying your final good byes to both Anna and Charles, the both of you were left alone in the cool summer night.

Your slow walk down the drive with Roger was very quiet. You two didn’t say anything.

You both took slow, careful steps towards your new home, two pairs of eyes searching the sky for constellations.

Roger’s hands were stuffed into his jean pockets, and you had your arms crossed over your chest.

He expected you to start rambling about how much of a disaster the entire visit was, and how there was certainly not enough casserole for left overs as Anna suspected, but you said nothing.

So he said nothing.

Roger climbed the stairs up to your front door, and unlocked it, wordlessly holding it open for you. You just nodded in thanks, and stepped inside, Roger close behind.

That’s where you both disbanded. You went right upstairs, leaving Roger alone in the dark front corridor. He just sighed, and locked the door as his eyes fixed to the blackness of the room.

He went straight to the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator. There were a few beer bottles in the fridge, and he reached for one, twisting the cap off with his shirt before taking a swig.

He shed his jacket and tossed it on the couch before sitting in the chair on the other side of the living room, and propping his feet up on the ottoman.

Upstairs, he could hear the tub’s faucet running. You were showering.

Taking another sip of his beer, Roger decided to wait until you were out of the shower and in bed before he went upstairs. 

 "… Rog?“

Roger’s eyes snapped open and he sat up with a start, gaze shooting to the hand on his arm.

Your hand.

Roger exhaled, and rubbed his tired eyes, his brain registering that you’d turned some of the lights on.

"Scared the bloody ‘ell outta me, y/n,” He slurred groggily, rubbing his forehead and combing his hair back with his fingers.

“I’m so sorry! I went to knock on your door and you weren’t in there!" 

 "I was waitin’ here for you t’ go t’ bed…” he must have fallen asleep, you thought as you rubbed the side of his arm.

“Well I was checking in on you to let you know the bathroom was free if you needed in." 

” ’M fine, Love. Thanks, though.“ He removed his feet from the ottoman, and rubbed the back of his neck, a number of empty beer bottles falling from his lap and onto the carpet below.

”… I swear I only 'member grabbin’ one.“ 

”… You go upstairs, okay? I’ll put you to bed.“ You bent down and started picking up the bottles.

Roger, who was on his feet, and turning the corner, stopped to watch you. He counted every bottle you picked up off the floor.

The higher the number, the guiltier he felt.

By the time you picked up five, Roger was already gone, upstairs and changing into some nighttime clothes.

He blindly chose his clothes, the combination being a pair of checkered pants and a Rolling Stones t-shirt.

He didn’t even bother trying to make an effort to get up and brush his teeth. He just climbed into bed and shut his eyes. 

But as promised, you walked into his room, and sat on his bed.

”… Roger, you know I didn’t hear the faucet running.“ 

 That’s how easily convincing you were to him: Seconds later Roger was in the blinding luminescent light of the bathroom, you sitting behind him on the edge of the bathtub as he drunkenly brushed his teeth.

"Spit, rinse, and I’ll meet you in the room.” You rubbed his back gently before leaving him alone in the room. 

Roger removed the brush from his mouth, and stared at himself in the mirror, toothpaste froth lining his lips and dripping down his chin in an almost comedic manner. 

Roger thought the froth kind of looked like facial hair. He even giggled a little at the idea of him maybe one day having a beard.

But then his smile disappeared, and he wiped his mouth off. Although he remembered only drinking one, he knew why he drank so much more. 

 Those thoughts about you were returning. The more time he spent with you, the more giddy he’d feel, and the more close he’d want to get. 

Roger wondered how he used to be able to teasingly slap your ass and make sexual jokes with you all the time without feeling at the very least flustered with his own actions.

He did it in front of the band all the time when you were around, but it was like he was in high school again.

He always had the urge to kiss you at least once before he died. The constant suppression over the last few years buried that urge six feet under, but it seemed the suppression wasn’t working anymore.

What if, Roger thought, this would be different? He technically had no reason to suppress any feelings he had towards you; well, maybe except for dignity purposes, but that was all.

What if luck and pre-destiny existed, and his chance to be with you just so happened to be now, under these awkward circumstances that would overall result in a blissful future with nothing but happiness…

But why would someone like her want to be with someone like you?

With the depressing thought hanging over him like an obedient rain cloud, he shut the bathroom light off, and moped to his room, where you sat in wait. 

You helped Roger climb into bed, and you tucked him in, kissing his forehead like a child.

“If you need me in the night, you know where I am, Blondie.”

Roger nodded, and mumbled his good nights to you before rolling over.

When his bedroom door closed, Roger opened his eyes despite not being able to see anything in the room. 

He blinked. 

 At the beginning of this commitment, pretending to be with you seemed like a piece of cake to him… 

 … But Roger didn’t know how much longer it would be until his behaviour towards you wasn’t pretend anymore.

_______________________________

A/A/N: Wow, This is a lot longer than I expected it to be, but I’m glad this part is done. I think I may write in Roger’s perspective more in this fic because he’s got lots of shit running through his mind, clearly. What are y’all’s opinions though? 

Anywho, enjoy this, I’m gonna go find something to inspire me for the next chapter.

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The Couple Next Door II (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part I Here

A/N: Been a long time coming. I know it’s been literally half a year. I’ve been working through stressful family things, prep for university in the coming fall, spending as much time as I can with my boyfriend before we go our separate ways for a few months, etc.

 Stuff just got busy and I am SO sorry I haven’t addressed any of that. I know many of you want part two, and here it is. I don’t know if it’s as good as my other works on here, but the only way to find out is to post it, right? 

But anyways, yes, this chapter is here, and it’s kinda a filler. there’ll be more plot development in the next chapter, and I promise, if this part does well, I will not hesitate to post a continuation. 

Like I say in my other author’s notes, feedback, and any sort of note, whether it be a reblog, a like, or a comment, is greatly appreciated. it inspires me more to keep writing. So thank you!

Summary: Moving day is here, and you and Roger had the honour of meeting the neighbours across the street, the Garrisons.

(This can be read as Borhap!Roger or IRL Roger. Whatever mows your lawn)

WARNINGS: Swearing, mild sexual content (but NO smut), and zero knowledge of U-Haul History (I know they no longer exist in the UK, but I’m Canadian and I’m too lazy to do any research to make sure the timeline is matched)

Like the previous fic in this series, it’s rated a T for Mature Subject Matter

It was a bright, sunny morning in London (shocking, right?). 

The day would have been hot, but the wind chill cooled down the city rather nicely. 

Not only was this a wonderful day, but it was moving day. 

Roger was pushing the last box of vinyl records into the trunk of his car. He shut the trunk, and huffed a sigh before running his fingers through his sweaty hair. He didn’t remember the last time he’d lifted so much.

He took a minute to catch his breath, two ladies roughly the same age as him, jogging past. He drank in their appearances before winking at one of them and retreating to the apartment in which he and you once resided. 

He made his way down the hallway leading to your room, and although he was planning on going to the empty room that once was his own, he figured he could receive the same amount of nostalgia when looking at your now vacant bedroom. 

Roger found it so strange– The bare walls and stripped mattress. The empty closet and the unoccupied corners of the room. 

“Weird, eh?” Roger asked you, who was simply packing away the last of the books on your shelf. You turned to him, and he leaned against the threshold of your bedroom door, arms crossed over his chest. 

You shrugged your shoulders, glancing down at the floor and scratching the back of your head. 

“Just a little, yeah.”

Roger playfully pouted at you, shoving his hands into his jean pockets as he entered the bedroom. 

He looked around silently, and you went back to shoving your final books into its box before closing it up and labelling the cardboard. 

“I’m gonna miss this place,” you said, frowning at the realization that you’d already slept, ate, showered, cleaned, and cooked for the last time in this apartment. 

Roger took immediate notice of your upset tone. “Don’t get all melancholic on me now, y/n,” Roger teased, taking a seat right next to the box you just packed. 

“But won’t you?/" 

"Miss this place? Of course.” Roger smiled a little. “And Brian will miss us." 

”Oh yeah. He’ll definitely miss my awful singing in the shower every morning, and your extremely loud noises when you bring a girl over to bed.“ 

He just shrugged. "What can I say? I’m not about to fake being unsatisfied, especially when I’m trying to get a girl off." 

You shuddered. "I don’t wanna hear about your sex life, Roger." 

He laughed loudly, rising to his feet and picking up the box of books on your mattress. "Then I don’t wanna hear you complaining about how loud I am in bed." 

"You’re making it sound like we fuck,” you crossed your arms accusingly, your face twisting sourly. 

“Might as well be. We’re basically a couple.” He turned on his heel and left the room, but not before he sent a teasing wink your way. 

You simply shook your head, mumbling “gross” under your breath jokingly and moving to the bathroom to retrieve your remaining possessions in the medicine cabinet. 

_____________________________

“Are you sure you don’t need my help, guys? Christine isn’t going to get here for another few hours." 

"I think we’re all good, Bri,” Roger assured the tall guitarist, giving him a kind slap on the back. 

“But if we do, we’ll give you a ring,” you added, to which Roger smiled. He liked that about you. You were so humble, but weren’t afraid at all to ask for assistance. It was an admiring trait of yours. 

“Will do,” Brian confirmed with a grin and a simple nod of his head. You and Roger returned the nod, and walked to the car. 

After climbing in, and giving one last look at the apartment building the both you and Roger once called home, he drove you both off to your new humble abode.

____________________________

“We can just put it here,” Roger directed as the both of you lowered the piece of furniture on the floor. When it was set where the both of you wanted it, you plopped down in the chair on the other side of the living room, sighing loudly.

“It was real nice of Christine to give us some of her furniture,” you commented, watching as Roger collapsed on the sofa in exhaustion. 

“Well she’s got all Bri’s stuff now, right?" 

The question sounded more like a statement, and Roger wasn’t surprised when you didn’t respond. 

”… d'ya know what’s left to bring in from the U-Haul?“ 

"The mattresses and all the boxes from the car, I believe." 

Roger groaned, and got to his feet, much to his dismay. "Then we can rest,” he exclaimed with a sigh. You just smiled at the idea, pushed off from your place on the chair, and followed Roger out. 

He walked straight towards the moving truck and into the back, where one more box hid with the mattresses, which were now the only things occupying the truck. You, on the other hand, stood at the steps of the condominium, your eyes wandering around the complex. 

Roger, who was just about to pass you with the final box in his hand, bumped your hip playfully with his own before slipping away into the building. You turned to where he was a moment ago, smiling to yourself at the idea of just how childish Roger could be. 

Your eyes shifted to the right a little, and you caught the gaze of a man and woman who appeared to have been in their early to mid sixties, across the complex’s main stretch of road. You smiled, and waved at the couple, something you’d expect them to return. 

What you didn’t prepare for was when they waved back, and began approaching you to properly greet themselves. 

Your eyes widened and you began to internally panic. Roger was just exiting the front door, and you extended your wrist out, grabbing his arm tightly and pulling him back before he could go any further. 

You turned to face him, your expressions hidden from everyone but him. “Neighbours’ coming,” you warned in a hushed tone, your eyebrows bent in worry, and your bottom lip rolling between your teeth anxiously. 

“Hey, hey, nothin’ to worry about. I’m here. All you need to do is hold my hand, yeah? I can do all the talking." 

You let go of his arm after a moment, and he slowly curled his fingers around yours. He took a deep breath, as did you, before putting on bright smiles, and turning towards the neighbours, who just appeared from in behind the truck. 

"Hi! You two must be the new couple. Welcome to the complex! I’m Anna Garrison, and this is my husband, Charles." 

You and Roger branded the friendliest smiles you both could muster. You watched as Roger let go of you to reach out and shake the couple’s hands. 

"I’m Roger Taylor,” he introduced, glancing down and snaking an arm warmly around your waist. 

“… and this is my beautiful girlfriend, y/n.” You tried to ignore what Roger said despite feeling your face grow hot. You reached out and politely shook the Garrisons’ hands as well, keeping the smile plastered on your mouth no matter how much it ached. 

“I remember when we were that young and in love,” Charles mused in a soft tone. Conversations like this, Roger knew, you wanted to avoid at all costs, and he did as well. He was just… really good at lying. 

Although the Garrisons looked nice, there was something about them that made them seem rather nosey. 

And your suspicions were proven true when you watched Anna’s gaze fall on your bare wedding finger despite just hearing Roger and you were only “boyfriend and girlfriend”. 

“So… do you two plan on marrying soon? You may be young, but time does pass." 

You knew you should have remained quiet, but you began to panic, and you let out a laugh. "Yeah. We… we kinda talk about it. Not much." 

"We wanna settle in first,” Roger offered, knowing if he didn’t start talking soon, you would have said too much. 

You wondered how Roger could do that so easily: pretend, yet be so believable. You wondered if he simply tossed extra words in without thought. Like adding “girl” before “friend”, something he’d called you since you met. 

You wondered if he found it awkward to hold your hand, or have you so physically close to him. Then again, you two never exactly had/ personal space. 

You knew he had a method of doing this, but you couldn’t quite place exactly what he was doing, or how he did it so naturally. 

“Well, it’s gonna be nice, having another couple to have over for dinner." 

You could feel your throat swelling. If you made a list on everything you wanted to avoid doing with these neighbours in this complex that you were gonna end up having to do, a quarter of the list would have probably already been crossed off. 

"That sounds lovely,” Roger nodded politely, silently wishing himself that the day never had to come, for your sake. 

But it seemed Charles and Anna thought differently, and when the married couple made eye contact with one another, you and Roger just knew this invitation was not going to be forgotten about. 

“Why don’t you two come tonight?” Charles asked, to which his wife nodded in agreement. 

“Don’t worry about having to cook after a long day of moving in. I’m making a lovely casserole, and we can send you home with leftovers. There’s always too much for Charlie and I to eat anyways, with our kids having moved out and away long ago." 

Roger opened his mouth to politely decline the offer, but like a few moments before, you panicked and spoke again. "That sounds great, actually!" 

The blond looked down at you, and you could see in your peripheral that Roger seemed lost, though the Garrisons didn’t even notice. 

"Perfect! We’re right across the road. I suspect it will be done near six-thirty. Gives you two some time to yourselves after everything is moved in." 

"We’ll see you around six then?” Charles asked Roger, his old grey eyes wide and expecting. 

“Six it is,” Roger agreed, matching smiles with the older gentleman. 

“Six it is,” Anna repeated before linking arms with her husband, bidding farewell, and returning to their condominium. 

As soon as they closed the door, you tightly grabbed Roger’s wrist, and stepped inside your new home. When the door shut, you let out a long groan, bending your knees and squatting, your face in your hands. 

“I thought this is what you wanted to avoid!" 

"I know, I know, and I panicked and I fucked up and now we have to have dinner with them,” you whined helplessly. “You’ve known me for years, you know I do this all the time!" 

Roger, whose knees were bent, palms flat against his thighs as he thought, took a deep breath, and regained a neutral posture. 

"You know what,” he raised his hands in a calming sort of gesture. 

“It’s not as bad as you think." 

 "What do you mean "it’s not as bad as you think”?!“ You were horrified with Roger’s words. 

 "We do this once, and we never have to go back!” You raised your head from its once defeated position in your hands, but you could see Roger’s reasoning. 

"Oh my God…" 

"I know! Then we’re home-free!” He explained with a grin, his arms wide open. 

You leaned backwards, falling on your ass and leaning your head up against the wall in relief. 

“Oh God. We just gotta get through tonight.” You opened your heavy eyelids and smiled up at Roger. “We’ll be fine." 

 "Yes we will. Now, c'mon, Love. Let’s get those mattresses in here before someone takes notice we have different beds." 

And that’s exactly what you did. 

 And after the car was all unpacked, you and Roger took a well-deserved nap together on the couch.

_____________________________

A/A/N: Thank you all for your patience. Happy reading!

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Lift Confessions II (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

A/N: I am really going HAM on this series, guys. I love it so much tbh. the amount of traffic I’ve accumulated the last few days on my blog has me SHOOK. I’m so glad I’m bringing entertainment to well-deserved people! Love y’all!

Summary: It’s Friday. You just need to survive one whole work day before the night is all yours and Roger’s.

(Again, BoRhap or real Roger, whatever tickles your peaches)

WARNINGS: Swearing, Vaguely Mature Subject Matter 

I’d rate this big boy a T.

 It was definitely Friday.

 And it was definitely seven o'clock.

 A.M.

 You watched as the red numbers on your alarm clock changed every infinity.

 Twelve hours until dinner.

 Two hours until work.

 You felt as if you’d been lying awake in your bed for years. You barely had any sleep the night before, taking to the alarm clock as a distraction from your thoughts.

 7:02, and your mind still raced with your heart.

 It had only been two days since the situation regarding you, a lift, and a certain blond beauty occurred. Despite this, those days dragged on almost as if each day were a lifetime.

 You’d had those days off, and you only did what you were doing now; staring at that damned alarm clock.

 You didn’t know if you were excited or scared of this dinner with Roger. On one hand, you didn’t know how well the night would go considering your relationship with him had been transparent for a whole two years…

 But you couldn’t help but think back to his confession in the lift. One you’d forgotten about until just this morning.

 “My Doll, I have been in love with you since the moment I set eyes on you, and I never stopped.”

 You shut your eyes and sighed. You remembered his voice being so gentle, and how the pause after his confession hung in the air in a very pleasant way.

 You remembered how his bright blue eyes carved effortlessly into your heart and soul, and how his soft listings of the little domestic and romantic things he wanted to do with you had your chest nearly bursting with every butterfly that could have coexisted in your being at once.

 You opened your eyes and frowned.

 7:04.

 You wished you’d responded to what Roger had said.

 You could think of a million and one things to tell him if you were back in that situation.

 In the lift.

 7:05.

 And a million and two things to tell him.

                                                                         "Higher.“

 "Fred, if this is gonna be like Bohemian Rhapsody, I may just have to leave–" 

"Roger, Darling, you’re doing great here. Your falsetto is fantastic, but it just doesn’t seem to want to match tones.”

 Roger sighed, pressing the palm of his right hand against his headphones. With his other hand, he spun his finger in a counter clockwise motion.

 "Replay,“ he requested with a yawn. Roger really needed his morning coffee.

 Freddie replayed the audio, and Roger waited for his falsetto.

 In that moment, you ran through the doors of the console room the band was in, five cups of coffee and tea hot and ready for your coworkers and yourself.

 "Sorry, the lineup was long, and they kept screwing up Roger’s order. As always.”

 John leaned back in his swivel chair so he could see you past Freddie.

 "You… seriously made sure they got his order right? That’s not… usual for you.“

 You shrugged, setting the trays of coffee on the side table before removing your raincoat. "Figured I’d be nice today.”

 You heard the famous Roger Taylor Falsetto from the studio.

 "Still trying to perfect that part?“ You asked, taking Brian’s chair next to Freddie since he moved to retrieve his tea.

 "Yeah. He insisted this song needed this one falsetto, but it’s not looking too good.”

 You nodded at Brian’s response, and glanced down at the empty case the song’s tape was in. It was labelled “Somebody To Love.”

 You pursed your lips, and looked up at Roger through the last window, only to see him looking back at you. You smiled the tiniest bit, and he returned it…

 That is… until his attention was brought back to Freddie, who was scolding him for completely missing his time to hit his notes.

 A break for Roger was called, and he left the studio. He knelt down next to your seat to talk to you, but he could see John glaring at him in harsh suspicion from over your shoulder.

 Neither he, Freddie, nor Brian were aware of what happened the few nights before.

 You found the silence the smallest bit awkward, so after clearing your throat, you smiled a little. “So I uh… I got you your coffee. For real this time. One and a half milk, one and a half sugar.”

 "… Really?“ Roger got to his feet, and moved to the coffee table to grab his drink.

 "Thought I should. You’re all working very hard. You deserve it.”

 Roger took a sip of his coffee and hummed gently. “T'is a shame. I was just starting to enjoy the sweetness of two milk and two sugar.”

 You just rolled your eyes in response, a smile at your lips. "You’re welcome, Blondie.”

 From the other side of the room, Brian watched closely at the unusual encounter. Seeing a dinosaur in the middle of London in this time period would have been more believable to see than you and Roger…

 "Are they flirting?“ John asked Brian in a hushed tone. He’d read his mind, but the lanky guitarist only answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

 Freddie was more amused by yours and Roger’s engagement, mindfully leaning against the console board with his arms crossed over his chest, and a smirk on his lips.

 Despite his desperate want to call you both out for your strange behaviour, he’d much prefer watching John and Brian go mad trying to figure the situation out.

 "If I may,” John cleared his throat apprehensively, eyes narrowed. 

“But Roger, you haven’t made one snide remark to y/n, and she’s already been here for a whole three minutes." 

He paused. "Not that I’m wanting you both to fight.”

 Roger just shrugged, and proceeded to hand you your order. This was the first time he didn’t try to purposely spill a hot drink on you in two years, and it was a very relieving feeling.

 "Change of heart ‘suppose.“

 After the boys’ coffee break, they found themselves back in the recording studio. You sat in the console room, and gave little suggestions to them every once in a while on how to improve the song.

 Despite this, you knew that Somebody To Love was already a masterpiece. 

 "Can we start just before that falsetto, y/n?” Roger asked over the mic. You just nodded, and rewound the tape.

 "Got no feel, I got no rhythm,“ you nodded your head along to Freddie’s vocals, and the already recorded instruments blasting through the speakers of both rooms.

 You weren’t prepared to hear a wail of a falsetto coming from Roger. You snapped your head up to look at the band in the recording studio, Roger beaming at you in success.

 You rose to your feet and cheered for the blond as the song continued on.

 You knew for certain this take really counted.

 The long repetition of the band members pleading the listeners to "find me somebody to love” eventually arrived in the song.

 Whether this was purely a coincidence or not, Roger held eye contact with you the entire time he sang, a smile never able to leave his mouth every time he said that “L” word.

 And you just found that fact utterly adorable and innocent.

 It was true, then.

 He really did forgive you.

 And he really did love you.

 "Lunch time!“ Brian announced with an excited clap of his hands. "Roger, it’s your turn to choose.”

 Roger was sitting at the console board, staring at his reflection in the window separating the room you five were in, and the studio.

 "I may have to skip out on lunch today, lads. I really need to practice some other songs for this album.“

 While Freddie was obliged to leave, Brian and John found this really doubtful. You were staying behind to pack up the instruments the band weren’t going to use for the rest of the recording that day.

 Why would someone insist on staying behind to be near an enemy? None of it was making sense.

 Brian knew you. He’d known you since university. He just didn’t understand why you weren’t mouthing Roger off, or making an excuse to leave him behind.

 Despite this, Freddie found himself out, and Brian and John followed.

 You were lying on the couch behind Roger, reading a book. You weren’t really paying attention to it, though.

 Especially not when you heard Roger’s swivel chair squeak. "Hey, Doll,” Roger greeted as he sat on the armrest of the couch by your feet.

 You glanced up over the pages of your book, bending your legs so Roger could slip into the now vacant seat. You stretched your legs back out, and Roger rested his hand on one of your kneecaps.

 "Hi, Loverboy,“ you acknowledged back, dipping your head back behind the book.

 "Whatcha readin’?”

 You shook your head. “Nothin’ interesting.”

 You closed the book and dropped it on the floor, resting your arms over your stomach. “Whatcha practicin’?” You nodded your head towards the recording studio.

 Roger gave you the same answer you did. 

 "Nothin’ interesting.“

 Your lips twitched into a smile, and you closed your eyes.

 Roger just watched you, his thumb rubbing circles over your kneecap in a slow, repetitive pattern.

 "It’s so weird… being like this with you again.”

 "Tell me about it, Doll.“

 The only thing that really could be heard was the analog clock on the wall. You opened your eyes and examined the time.

 1:34.

 Five hours and twenty six minutes until dinner.

 Three hours and twenty six minutes until the end of the work day. 

 "Why don’t I teach you some drumming?”

 You moved your gaze from the second hand on the clock to Roger, whose eyes were wide and hopeful.

 "What is this, 1974?“

 "It just may be. For this lunch. If you want.”

 You turned to face the live room’s tempting door handle.

 "… only for a few minutes. I still need to pack up for everyone else.“

 Roger beamed, and you lifted your legs to set him free. He immediately grabbed your hand, and pulled you into the studio, shutting the door behind you rather quickly.

 "Okay okay,” Roger took a seat in his drumming stool, and turned to you, patting his thigh innocently with his hand.

 "A special seat for a special lady.“

 "In your lap? You call that special?”

 "Well, not me, but some women might.“

 You smiled, and shook your head. "Gross.”

 Despite this, you seated yourself in Roger’s lap, and he spun the both of you around so you were behind the drums.

 "Here,“ he gave you his drumsticks from his back pocket, and put them in your hands.

 He went to cup his larger hands over yours, and you teasingly mumbled "gee, at least take me to dinner first.”

 Roger shifted over so he could look at your face. “You mean to tell me I have to buy you dinner to hold your hand, but lap-sitting is completely fine?”

 You shrugged, your uncontrollable grin resulting in a smile from Roger.

 You both turned back to the drums, and Roger started naming the different types of drums on the kit.

 Of course, you knew everything he told you. He’d told you before. You’d dealt with his drums and put them away for the longest time. Before…

 "–And here’s the snare. T’s my favourite because its name is fun to say.“

 You just let Roger talk. You missed hearing his voice speak with such passion.

 You missed doing things like this with him.

 You missed him.

 How blind were you in the past not to catch on to how into you Roger was?

 How into you he is now.

  You opened your mouth to speak, but Roger was still going on about the drum kit.

 You didn’t cut him off.

 But you let him help you play.

 He helped you play both simple and complicated songs, his arms guiding yours to the correct drums and cymbals at the right time.

 At one point, Roger let go of your arms, and you kept to the notes he’d taught you moments before.

 "You’re doin’ well, Doll.” He watched the drumsticks tap the cymbals over your shoulder, his hands innocently resting at your waist.

 You repeated the same notes for a minute or so before you felt Roger’s arms slide around your body into a gentle embrace.

 "… Rog?“

 "I’m sorry, y/n. About the last few years. How I’ve treated you…”

 He rested his head on your shoulder, and you reached up to comb his hair with your fingers.

 "Hey, hey now. It’s okay. I’m okay. We’re okay.“

 Although Roger found some relief in your words, he tightened his arms around you. You just sighed, and leaned back, turning your head to kiss his temple.

 "It was justified, and all is forgiven, Hun. Let’s put these last two years behind us. Start over, yeah?”

 Roger turned his head to face you, and after looking at you for a moment or so, he nodded his head.

 "Thank you, Doll.“ One of his arms unravelled from around your waist, and he let his own fingers glide through your hair.

 You shut your eyes, and basked in the short amount of time Roger gave you this attention.

 When you opened your eyes, Roger’s gaze was obviously fixated on your lips. You lifted your head up a little, and his eyes flicked up to meet yours, gently, and kindly smiling.

 "Y'know… you have nice lips.”

 Your cheeks glowed, and you shyly looked away. Roger laughed– a short exhale out his nostrils.

 "Don’t make me kiss you, y/n.“ You turned back to him, and the both of you’d found yourselves moving ever so slightly closer to each other.

 Before he got too close, you pressed the tips of your fingers to his mouth, and smiled innocently.

 "Whatever you say, Blondie.”

 Roger’s mouth fell open in shock after you pulled your hand away.

 "I wasn’t being serious!“

 "No, Meddows. I’m doing what you asked,” you’d never looked so smug in your life, or sounded so proud.

 You believe this was the first time you’d put the Roger Taylor in his place.

 You glanced up at the clock, and proceeded to do a double take. “Shit!”

 You jumped out of Roger’s lap, and started running around the studio, gathering cords, and wrapping them up frantically.

 "What?!“

 "We spent that whole hour drumming and talking! The boys will be back any moment!”

 Roger wordlessly got to his feet and helped you clean up. You were thankful for that. You just never verbally expressed it.

 When Freddie, John, and Brian all returned from lunch, not only was the studio empty of any unnecessary instruments, but your relationship with Roger, if you could even believe it, had been strengthened even further after the confession on the lift.

 As much as it bummed you out, you and Roger didn’t kiss in the studio.

 Were you close when Roger was apologizing?

 Absolutely.

 It was something that plagued your mind for the rest of the day.

 The clock in the console room struck five, and you took a deep breath.

 Two hours until dinner.

 Brian entered the console room from the studio, his Red Special in hand. He was spending the last few hours practicing his solos for other songs on the album they were working on, and John was also in there with him at some point.

 "That was a great practice, everyone!“ Freddie announced, a painfully wide grin on his face.

 "Why don’t we all go for drinks tonight? My treat.”

 You looked over at Roger with mild worry, shrugging on your raincoat slowly.

 "I can’t tonight, Fred,“ Roger said apologetically. "I’ve plans I can’t cancel.” Freddie nodded in understanding.

 "What about you, y/n?“ John asked.

 "I have a date, actually.” At that, the room went quiet.

 This was new.

 Brian raised an eyebrow. “You… you’ve met someone?”

 You swallowed. You didn’t think this was going to be such a big deal. You’ve dated around after your breakup with Steven. Why is it different now?

 "Old friend,“ you explained. "Our friendship’s been kinda vacant. We wanted to reconnect. See what’d happen, you know?”

 You swear on your life that you saw a hint of jealousy in Roger’s eyes, but it soon faded away when he realized the mistake he made.

 Fucking dumbass, I was talking about you!

 You shook your head a little in mild frustration, but smiled once more.

 "Best be going, actually. Date’s at seven. Have a good night everyone!“

 You heard a collective "good bye"s from Fred, Brian, and John, but an isolated "have fun tonight, y/n,” from Roger.

 You shut the door to the studio, and made your way to the lift. As soon as the doors of the lift closed, you audibly groaned.

 "Fucking moron.“

 This little shit really just got jealous over himself.

 Maybe all those months of faking hatred towards one another was really getting to him.

 The lift, since it was broken, was very slow going down the elevator shaft. It gave you time to think.

 After this date, you hoped to come clean with Freddie, Brian, and John about the state of your relationship with Roger.

 Messages wouldn’t be underlying, nor would your unusual behaviour towards the drummer.

 This situation was very complicated the more you thought about it, but you really hoped a fun night out with Roger would be enough to solve everything. 

 And it would.

                                                                          A/A/N: This was very long so I apologize for the wait. I also wanna thank y’all for being patient. As always, comments, and feedback are always welcome!

@radiob-l-a-hblah @bohemiansweede @demo-wise @culturefiendtrashqueen @luvborhap

The Couple Next Door (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

A/N: Alrighty, since I am seriously lacking energy to write a date scene for part 2 of Lift Confessions, I’ve decided to start another series to hopefully break through my writer’s block.

I got inspiration for this fic from another I read years ago and I can’t remember what the characters in it were for the life of me. I think I also read it on AO3 but again, I can’t be too sure. If the author of the first fic sees this and realizes it was their beautiful work that got me inspired, then thank you.

I ALSO APOLOGIZE FOR HOW SHORT THIS IS

Summary: Roger and his good friend y/n decide to move out of Brian’s flat after he gets a girlfriend and wishes to move her in. It’s a shame the condominium Roger and y/n want is owned by a landlady who is strict on who lives in her complex. They couldn’t possibly pretend to be a couple just to live here… or could they?

(Like all my other fics, this can be read as either BoRhap!Roger or real Roger. Do whatever floats your boat)

WARNINGS: Swearing. that’s something you can expect from me all the time.

I’d rate this chapter G, but the language puts it at a T

Your eyes marvelled at the high, bright ceilings as soon as you and Roger stepped into the vacant condominium.

 "Rog, look how high up it goes!“

 You pointed to the very top of the ceiling of the visible second floor at the base of the staircase 

 "This is more spacious than I thought,” Roger responded gently as his eyes followed your direction of pointing, his hand on your shoulder.

 Although the both of you considered your shared apartment with Brian to really be “home”, it was barely that when Brian started to move his girlfriend in.

 It’s not that you and Roger disliked her, she just had lots of furniture, and three people in a small flat was crowded enough, let alone four. 

 That’s when you and Roger decided to relocate elsewhere so Brian and his girl could have some privacy.

 You and Roger had been friends since high school, and had been close ever since. You were now both in your mid twenties, and your friendship was still going very strong.

 So much so that the both of you had no problem living alone together rather than finding partners yourselves to settle down with.

 So this is how you ended up here; house shopping with your drummer roommate and best friend.

 You’d spoken to Roger about the benefits of moving out before. not only would a move be convenient for space, but your work, as well as the recording studio Roger often used with Queen, were closer.

 There were so many pros to moving, and little to no cons. It was something you both eventually felt you had to do.

 "I know this is the first one we’re looking at, and we only just got through the door, but I’m already in love with this place.“

 You moved deeper into the house as you spoke, grabbing Roger’s hand in the process to drag him along. At the end of the hall, a large empty room sat, the sun shining brightly through the large front window.

 "I can clearly imagine this to be our living room,” you exclaimed, letting go of Roger’s hand and moving around the room and pointing to certain corners and walls to speak your visions about which pieces of furniture would look best where.

 Of course, Roger wasn’t exactly sold on the place yet, but he crossed his arms, and listened intently to your opinions.

 This was going to be your place as well, after all.

 "And here is where we can put that picture of us at– oh my god, is that the kitchen?!“ You playfully pushed Roger out of the way to get to the kitchen. He turned to give you a playful glare, but soon followed along.

 "This is getting better,” Roger voiced as he stepped into the kitchen after you, nodding his head in approval.

 The kitchen was bright, clean, and very welcoming.

 Everything about this place was very welcoming.

 "God, couldn’t you just imagine us making cookies and cakes in here?“ 

 "You mean burning,” he corrected.

 "Just shut up and daydream with me.“

 Roger laughed, his hand resting on your shoulder again, and his chin propped on the opposite one.

 "We sound like a married couple, don’t we, Doll?”

 "We do,“ you agreed.

 Roger sighed gently before moving away from you and beckoning you towards him with his finger. "Upstairs time.”

 Upstairs was what you two expected. A nice bathroom, a master bedroom, and two smaller rooms. 

 "I call the master bedroom.“

 "You’re joking,” Roger retorted. 

 "I called it first!“

 "You know what,” Roger sighed. You smiled, clearly under the impression you’d won the argument so soon.

 "Why don’t we just share a bed?“ Roger teased, raising an eyebrow and smirking. You smirked back. 

 "You’d like that, huh, pretty boy?” Roger laughed, shaking his head and looking back into the large empty room. 

 "We should just use it for a storage room or something. Mediation.“

 "You suck at being a mediator,” you voiced. Roger rolled his eyes at your response. 

 "That’s why John makes a lot of decisions for the band. C’mon. We can fight about this later, Doll.“ He nodded to the staircase to the bottom floor.

 You led him outside by the hand, and the both of you took a step back to look at the house one more time. 

 "I really like it,” you told Roger. 

 "It is really nice,“ he agreed. He looked over at you, who was too busy admiring the house’s exterior.

 The last time Roger saw you look at anything like that, you were admiring your high school sweetheart– your first love.

 Roger knew you’d die for this place.

 "Let’s go talk to the landlady, then. Tell her we’re interested.” Your eyes lit up brightly, and you turned to Roger. The smile on your face looked like it hurt. 

“Really?!”

 "Really,“ Roger grabbed your wrist, and led you off to the complex’s office without another word.

 And you happily followed close behind, your hand tightening around his.

                                                                   "Your references look really good,” the landlady, Tina Welch, commented with a grin.

 "You guys are definitely eligible for the condo! I just need to ask a question or two if that’s alright.“

 She examined the both of you over the thick lenses of her glasses, your references bouncing in her thin hands.

 You and Roger looked at one another for a moment before agreeing.

 "How long have you been together?”

 "Uh– excuse me?“ Roger was the first to answer Tina’s question with another. 

 Tina raised an eyebrow, and cleared her throat. "This complex is full of small families, couples, and those attempting to start families. I only rent out to serious couples.”

 You looked over to Roger, and he could see the glint of worry in your eyes.

 "You two are together… Right?“ You held your breath for a long time, but you were eventually able to release a sigh, and prepare to tell Tina the bad news.

. But your words caught in your throat when you felt Roger’s hand grasp yours tenderly on the arm of the chair you were sitting in. 

 "Of course!” Roger laughed airily. “We weren’t expecting a question about that, sorry.”

 You snapped your head to watch Roger in disbelief.

 "We’ve been together for about…” Roger estimated, looking to his left as he gave thought, puffing up his cheeks and exhaling slowly. “What is it, five years now? It must be.“ You watched silently as he improvised so easily.

 He looked over at you, smiling warmly.

 You’d only seen him smile this way towards his old girlfriends.

 "Right, Love?”

 Even you could tell Roger found the word funny in his mouth when acknowledging you, but you nodded your head.

 "Y-yes. Wow. Never realized how fast time has gone by,“ you nervously squeezed Roger’s hand, and the both of you turned to Tina, who smiled warmly. 

 "I could tell there was a strong connection. Five years is a very long time.”

 Roger saw Tina look over the desk at your left hand. You weren’t branding a ring of any kind.

 "Do you plan on getting married any time soon?“

 Your stomach dropped at the next unexpected question. "Married?”

 Roger covered for you again, clearing his throat.

 "Hopefully soon. After settling here fully, of course.“ Roger lifted your hand up, and he kissed the back of it. You continued to study his sudden behavioural change.

 Tina watched you with a small amount of suspicion, but after smiling at her with a believable grin, her face relaxed, and she slid the keys over to Roger. 

 "Welcome home, you two.”

                                                                    "What the fuck was that?!“ You knew this car ride home was going to be anything but quiet.

 "We got the place you wanted, didn’t we?" Roger’s behaviour, bubbly and happy, was a great contrast to you– stressed, and upset.

 Roger actually had the audacity to drum his fingers on the steering wheel and nod his head to imaginary music in his joyous state.

 "Yes Roger, but at what cost?! Telling our landlady we’re together?!” You began to spiral into a small panic.

 Roger just shook his head like it was no big deal.

 No big deal your ass.

 "What about those monthly checkups she mentioned? We have to make it look like we share that bedroom! And what of the neighbours?! Tina is probably telling them about the “new couple next door” right now!“

 Roger stopped nodding his head and drumming his fingers. He actually sat and thought about the situation, and considered your worries.

 He was personally fine with what he did. He’d dealt with fake relationships before when it came to publicity.

 However, in your defence, you were not accustomed to doing something like this, and that made him begin to feel a little guilty.

 "Look y/n, I’m sorry. I didn’t think things would be this complicated.” He tried to think of upsides to the situation in order to calm you, although very few came up.  

“You aren’t exactly a very social person. We don’t have to have an awful housewarming party or have weekend barbecues at the kind middle-aged couple’s a few doors down.”

 "What are you saying?“

 Roger smiled at you the like how he did in Tina’s office.

 "I’m saying… we only have to pretend to be a couple in public. In the complex. That’s all. It’s not like we’re going to live day-to-day as an actual couple. We’ll go to work, get together afterwards, sleep in different beds, repeat. Just like at Brian’s.”

 "… Are you sure it’ll be that simple?“

 Roger shrugged. "We just need to remember to be a little more romantic and touchy around people. Besides, how hard can it really be?”

 His response echoed through your head for the rest of the car ride home.

 How hard can this really be?

                                                                 A/A/N: I know this one is really shitty and short, but I promise it will pick up after this.

As always, suggestions and feedback are always welcome. Maybe help contribute to my stories by giving me ideas below!

@benders-diamond-earring @radiob-l-a-hblah @bohemiansweede @demo-wise @culturefiendtrashqueen

*Masterlist*

Fluff-💗

Angst-💙

Drugs-🍃/🍄

NSFW-💋

Roger Taylor

Lift Confessions

Prequel💗💙, One💗💙, Two💗

The Couple Next Door

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine

George Harrison

Oneshots

This Boy💗

Do You Want To Know A Secret💗

Paul McCartney

Oneshots

We’ve Got Tonight (McBeardy) 💗💙

Why Don't You Stay; We've Got Tonight II 💋

James

One💗 Two💗

Across The Universe

One, Two🍃

John Lennon

Oneshots

Baby It’s you💗