Summary: The Best Friend Code has been established since you and Roger were kids. You can never lie to each other. You have to tell each other everything. You must always have each other’s back.
As the years go by and as the Best Friend Code evolves, so does the meaning of your friendship with Roger. The lines start to blur and you both start to stray from the code with each rule that’s broken.
It’s only a matter of time until the distance you’ve put between friendship and romance starts to disappear and decide what it means for the future of your relationship with each other.
Warnings: language, angst, mentions of sex & nudity
Word Count: 4.3k+
AUTHOR’S NOTE: she’s here y’all!!! I’m really excited for this series. I think it’s going to be six parts, I just have to see!!! Enjoy and tell me what you think please!
Friendship is a weird and funny thing. It can take on multiple forms and definitions evolve and change as time goes on. There’s your work friends and your school friends. There’s your sports friends and friends from the organizations you’ve joined while at school. Then there’s your family friends and your true friends, your best friends.
Summary: Y/N has a feeling in some way that Roger and her’s love isn’t the same, and she knows it’s not good for either of them. So Y/N has to confront him, and try and save their relationship.
Word Count: 2067
Warnings: Swearing a little bit.
A/N: I don’t think I like this but then I again I don’t really like anything I write. Please leave feedback and let me know if you want a part two I guess!! As always I didn’t proofread so excuse any errors.
You let a sigh escape your lips as you laid the book you were reading down, and checked the time. It was nearly 1 AM and Roger still wasn’t home from the party. You knew he liked to go out with the rest of the band, and that his life was often demanding, so most of the time you let things like this slide. But it’d been happening more recently. He’d come home later than usual, alcohol still staining his breath.
You went to back to reading your book, which you found quite boring but it kept you awake. You were pulled back out of the book when you heard the front door of your home shut. A few seconds later, your blonde boyfriend was standing in the doorway, looking at you. Roger frowned, and spoke. “Why did you wait up for me? Now you’re going to be all sleepy in the morning.” He walked by you, on his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and everything. A few months ago, he would’ve climbed into bed and given you a long kiss or a hug where he bury his face in your neck. Now, it was just small, quick, meaningless kisses.
He returned from the bathroom a few minutes later, his hair a mess and his chest bare. You could see how tired he was from the long hours in the studio due to recording a new album. “How was your day?” You said, putting your book on your nightstand. “You look exhausted.”
“It was… a day to say the least. Fred always has a perfect vision, and sometimes it’s so…” He shook his head. “Emily helped us all calm down though, it’s really nice to have her there.” Roger said with a smile, and you felt your heart drop. Emily was a new assistant they hired a few months ago, and Roger always talked about her with a grin on his face. It always made you hurt inside when he talked about her, but you reminded yourself he was your boyfriend, not hers.
“Come here, I missed you.” You said patting the empty spot next to you. Roger laid his head in his lap, and let you play with his hair.
“That feels good.” He smiled looking up at you. “Oh I meant to tell you, Emily’s throwing a small party tomorrow for the band… Not really a party, I guess she’s just inviting us and the staff. I won’t be home tomorrow either.”
You felt a deep sigh escape your lips and you froze, you fingers still intertwined with his locks. It was your birthday tomorrow… However you gave him the benefit of doubt. He probably had something special planned, a surprise, you told yourself. “How nice of her…” You said, forcing a smile. You pulled your hands away from his hair, as he sat up.
Roger grabbed your hand and kissed it, before he rolled over and quickly caved to his exhaustion and fell asleep. You stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought, long after he had fallen asleep. You weren’t blind, it was obvious what was going on. The words you exchanged with one another grew smaller and smaller… You loved Roger with your entire heart, and you feared the worst.
********
The next day, your birthday to be exact, you awaited Roger to come home soon so you could out to dinner and celebrate. You’d taken the whole day off of work to be home with him, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. You refused to believe the worst, and decided to just call Emily’s house, a number you only had because Roger wrote it down. After a few rings, it was picked up. “Hello?” You instantly recognized the voice.
“Hey Freddie!” You chirped, relieved he was the one to answer and not Emily.
“Y/N! I’m so glad I’ve got the chance to talk to you.” You could hear loud voices in the background. “I wanted to wish you a happy birthday, darling!”
You let out a small laugh. You didn’t expect him to remember. “Thanks Freddie.”
“Now I’m assuming you called for that dumb blonde of yours?” He said jokingly. You could hear Freddie yelling Roger’s named repeatedly. A minute later, you heard a new voice.
“Y/N?”
“Hey, when are you going to come home?” You said, with a hint of sadness in your voice, not knowing where it came from.
“Probably same time as last night. Don’t wait up for me tonight please, you get all tired and sleepy in the mornings when you stay up.” Roger said, and you could tell he was distracted.
“Roger, why don’t you come home earlier? I miss you, and it’s my birthday. I really just wanna spend it together.” Your voice cracked. Instead of an answer, you could hear him talking to someone else, and your question was followed by silence. You could easily make out Emily’s voice accompanied by his laughter.“Roger!”
“Hm?” He hadn’t heard a word of what you said. You opened your mouth to you repeat yourself but he continued. “I’ll talk to you later love, bye.” The line went dead and all you could do was stand there. You looked at the framed photo of you two that sat on your dresser, tears stinging your eyes. It wasn’t the same.
********
Roger stumbled home even later that night–or morning now–being careful not to wake you. Your bedroom light was off, and he just assumed you were asleep. Once he climbed into bed, you both laid there, neither of you asleep.
“Rog?” You said, your eyes damp, and your heart heavy with what you were about to say to him.
“Love, you should really be asleep.” Roger frowned turning on the light next to him.
“I can’t lie anymore Rog, I see how invested you are with Emily, the way you smile when you talk about her…”
Roger swallowed, hard shaking his head. “She’s just my assistant… I–“ He was at a loss for words and you both just laid there for a moment, until you sat up.
“Do you love me?” You’re voice cracked near the end, and you turned away so he couldn’t see the tears in your eyes.
“Of course…” He mumbled, and you just shook your head. He turned the light off and laid back down, trying to fall asleep.
“You missed my birthday.” You said softly, still sitting up. You buried your face in your hands. Roger’s heart dropped, and all he could feel in that moment was guilt. He’d forgot all about it just so he could party. You’d sacrificed so much for him, just to be here with him…
Neither of you were oblivious. In that moment he knew that you knew. You knew a while ago, but you just didn’t want to admit it. Roger, usually not an emotional person, could feel tears stinging at his own eyes. You should’ve seen this coming. “Y/N… Please, say something.” His voice cracking, the silence killing him.
“I gave you three years of my life… I–I gave you everything. I gave up my home and my family to be with you.” You cried out. “For three years, I’ve loved you with my entire heart. Did you love me?”
Roger grabbed your hand and cupped your cheek. “Of course I did. I love you so much.”
A tear rolled down your cheek as you placed your own hand on his. “You love me, but you’re not in love with me.” You murmured.
“Y/N, I’m sor–“
“Don’t be sorry…” You said, removing his cheek. “You’ve just… fallen in love… without me.” You said, a sob escaping your lips. Roger just sat there not knowing what to say. It hurt to see you like this. “Our love used to be so amazing.” You sighed out. “And I wish you would’ve just cheated on me, and been the bad guy, because I can’t be mad at you for falling in love.”
And it was true. There was an aching in your chest, and you didn’t want to let him go, but he didn’t love you back the same way. It would’ve been easier if he actually cheated, so you’d be able to have a clean break. But this was more emotional cheating… It was more heartbreaking. “I just wish you hadn’t lied to me all this time.”
“How could I not?” He replied softly. ““I knew if you ever learned the truth that you’d look at me like you’re looking at me now… But you’re wrong, you know… I do love you, please Y/N.” Roger’s voice trembled.
“Things happen Roger, sometimes love changes. I know you don’t love me like you love her.”
“But I don’t want to let you go.” He said, his voice cracking, looking at you in the dimness of your bedroom. All you could do was bury your face in your hands and cry. “Let me show you I still love you, please Y/N.”
“I’m going to stay at a hotel, for a few nights…” Your voice faded.
Roger wanted to plead and beg you stay. He loved you more than he’d ever love Emily, but he knew you couldn’t stay if he loved you both… He was at a loss for words. As you began to pack a bag of your things, he went outside in his pajamas to get some fresh air. It was freezing, and he could see his breath but he didn’t care. Roger tried to think of solutions to this but couldn’t. The front door swung open, and he finally saw you in all your glory. Your nose was red and your face was splotchy. You messily tied your hair back, with baby hairs erupting from it.
You stared at each other as you stood in the doorway for a few seconds before you walked past him. “Y/N, wait.” Roger grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.
Not knowing when it happened your lips were suddenly locked with Roger’s, kissing him. The start of the soft touch sent a strong feeling of warmth spiraling through your system. Your eyes closed fearlessly, but the closure didn’t let you see darkness, it instead created colours of fondness. Your tense nerves soon began to relax, your troubles, your pain began to melt away and the surroundings began to disappear. For a moment, it was just you and Roger again. This kiss was different from the many kisses, because it was your goodbye kiss. Your tears streamed down, and you didn’t want to break apart, you wanted to stay in his arms forever. “Maybe in another life… In another life things will work out for us. There will be no crazy schedules, no assistants, no missed birthdays… In another life…” You repeated.
Once you did break apart he looked at you, and moved his hand to brush a hair out of your face. “I’m an idiot Y/N…” He titled your chin up, and even though you were a heartbroken mess, Roger thought you looked beautiful under the moonlight.
“Goodbye Roger.” You said softly, your heartbreaking. You threw your stuff into your car, and climbed in. You took one last look at Roger, giving him one last sad smile before you drove off.
Roger stood there, unsure what to do as he watched you drive away. He felt like such an idiot… He forgot your birthday… For months now he had planned an incredible birthday night. Dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant, then a walk in the park where you had your first date… And then he planned to get down on one knee, and ask you to marry him. Roger picked a ring out months ago… He wanted to marry you. “I really fucked this up…” He mumbled in the cold, dark street.
As he headed back inside, he knew he couldn’t live without you. Roger’s mind fell to Emily, her smile, and her laugh, but he instantly realized she didn’t compare to you, nobody would ever compare to you. Roger wanted you, and only you.
Waking up the next morning was a mess of brown hair and limbs, the two of them having pretty much combined in the middle of the bed during the night. One of Liv’s legs was draped over John’s, his arms were wrapped tightly around her middle, and her face was pressed into his chest.
Cracking her eyes open and being met with early morning sunlight, Liv felt as if she wanted to both die immediately and vomit all over the room, but didn’t know in what order. There was a moment she had a lapse in memory, and she almost began to freak out because where the hell was she? But she soon calmed down when she inhaled John’s scent, select memories from the night before coming back to her.
But then the actual panic set in as John himself began to stir, tightening his arms around her, which caused Liv to rip herself away from his half awake form, startled and slightly embarrassed. Sure, she’d woken up the exact same way with Roger before, but that was different. Rog was her best friend, but John was…he was more. John was the gentle soul that Olivia admired and wanted to be around constantly, and she was afraid that her drunken banter last night had put a strain on whatever little friendship they’d formed over the last several months. If anything happened to reset them, she might just throw herself under Rog’s car.
The feeling of Liv moving so suddenly was what had John awake in seconds, his eyes a bit squinty but open, blinking as he tried to focus more on Liv’s sitting form. “Everything alright?” John asked, voice deep with sleep. He propped himself up on his elbow, running his fingers through his hair as he took in the worry that was etched in her eyebrows.
Olivia didn’t answer that question, turning her head slowly to look down at him. The sunlight was hitting him just right, and she bit down hard on her bottom lip. She couldn’t do this right now. Her head hurt far too much and he looked far too adorable for her to form any sort of intelligent conversation. “Can I use your phone?”
I have had 3 mineral posts flagged as adult content today. They contained a tourmaline, a muscovite, and a galena. On Friday I had 3 fossil posts flagged as adult content, including a fossil fish, a fossil tooth from a mastodon, and a Tyrannosaur vertebrae. I’ve submitted appeals for each. This has been getting worse over the past month, apparently most of geology content is now only for adults.
Apparently you can’t get your rocks off on Tumblr anymore.
i am contractually obligated to congratulate you on this reply
AN: Helloooo. This is my first BoRhap story and if you’re interested its going to be a series! I think probably 3 or 4 parts! If its like i imagine it, its going to be very angsty (but i love it). Also english isnt my first language so there probably will be some mistakes 🙂
PS: the first few lines about the reader being pregnant is a foreshadowing about whats to come! The rest of the story tells how the reader ended up at this point! (just clarifying bc there was some confusion) ENJOY!!
You didn’t know what to do. What to think. Your mouth hang open, getting dry from your heavy breathing. You stared at the stick in front of you with your eyes fixated on the little blue plus sign. With your hands shaking you picked up the other two tests that you took from the bathroom counter and looked at their results, just to see another confirmation of your worst fear. You were really pregnant. You feel your knees go weak as you let yourself slide on the bathroom floor hoping the cold tiles on the floor will calm your nerves but it’s useless. You let out a shaky breath before you mutter a desperate “fuck” and close your eyes to stop the tears from falling.
When you got a call from Brian you were surprised. He hadn’t called you in a few months, which you understood with him being on tour in America and the band really taking off. But to be honest you just thought that’s that it for your friendship and he would forget about you eventually with his new lifestyle, which hurt but you were coming to terms with it. He was one of your dearest friends since you were 12, maybe even your best friend. You saw each other every day and were like brother and sister, although some people around town always gossiped that you were more but you and Brian just laughed about it. Your friendship started to strain when you two went to different colleges and only saw each other a few times a month. He would call you every other day to tell you about his band smile and how he missed you and how you should come to their next gig. But unfortunately you barely made it to any gigs, so you only saw smile once live before it evolved into queen.
That was the day you met Roger Taylor for the first time. You remember walking into the small pub where they were playing, cigarette smoke clouding the room and people swaying to the music on the speakers. Brian told you to come early so you can chat before the gig so you did. At this time you hadn’t seen him in a few weeks so you were excited to see him again and to finally witness him playing with his band. Without thinking you walked yourself over to the bar.
The night Freddie first plays with Smile in her pub, Ash thinks her heart might genuinely burst with pride, buzzing behind the bar, beaming at the patrons who she usually just fixes with her winning, customer service smile. Maureen keeps giving knowing glances at the way Ash is all but singing along with the band, bright-eyed, taking any free moment she got to watch them perform.
“So you know Freddie?” After the show, Brian’s sitting in the back of Roger’s van, his guitar already packed away, smiling at Ash who was still grinning with pride.
“‘course I do, he’s the one who suggested you guys to me.” She’s filled with so much overwhelming joy that she can’t help but laugh a little, just basking in the moment, still marvelling at how talented her best friend is.
“He’s the Freddie who suggested us?” Brian asked, eyebrows raised, before turning to the new bass player, a soft spoken man named John, who had a smile like sunshine. “Ash’s mate suggested to her we play here a few months ago.” Brian explained, to which John nodded in understanding, and Ash made a noise of confirmation. After a moment of silence, the back door came crashing open and Ash jumped as the door hit the side of the milk crate she’d been sitting on, and Freddie himself joins them, with Roger’s arm around his shoulder.
“You did good mate, sang almost all the right words and everything.” Roger crowed, smiling at the boys by the van before turning. “Didn’t he, Pocket Rocket?” He asked, and Ash stood, reaching out for Freddie’s hand to pull him out of Roger’s grip and wrap him up in a hug.
“Freds, that was awesome!” She gushed, and he picked her up, spinning her around.
“You really think so?” He asked, pulling back, grinning at her starry-eyed expression, and she nods emphatically, moving to hug him again, letting him rest his chin on the top of her head, both practically glowing with pride.
“Rog, did you know Freddie’s the one who introduced us to Rocket?” Brian asks as the drummer joined the others by the van, pulling out a cigarette.
“Figures, I knew they were mates.” He says it so casually, lighting the cigarette and pocketing the lighter, before he finally acknowledges Brian’s confused expression. “She’s got a photo of them together, would be weird if she didn’t know him.” He says, like it’s answer enough, and Ash goes completely still.
“What?” Brian asks with a half laugh, and Ash is glad that she’s mostly hidden from view by Freddie, but then he pulls back from their hug, his eyebrows raised in amusement. He knows exactly which photo Roger’s talking about, it’s the Polaroid she has pinned up on the cork board in her room, taken at a uni event at the end of the previous year, up along with some other pictures of friends and family. He also knows it’s the only photo she has of the two of them.
“In my wallet.” Ash, quickly stepping thinking on her feet, speaks with a clipped tone, heart in her throat. She steps around Freddie’s knowing look to face at the others, Brian squinting at Roger, who had frozen, cigarette hanging from his lips. “I left it out here once and he found it.” After a beat, she sees Roger relax and breathe out a cloud of smoke. “’s why I don’t bring my wallet anymore.” That part’s only partially a lie, she never brought her wallet to begin with, never had a need for it.
“In your wallet? Darling, that’s so sweet.” Freddie cooed, teasingly, and though Ash’s expression was bright, she’d never wanted to smack him more in her life; they both knew he knew she was lying.
“Of course!” The smile she wore didn’t reach her eyes when she turned to look at him. “How else would I be able to say,” and she mimed pulling out her wallet, holding it up, displaying it, “did you know my best friend is in a band?” And Freddie burst out laughing at that, though it’s when she hears snickers from the rest of the boys that she finally lets herself relax.
Roger shoots her a small smile when she turns back, and she rolls her eyes at him. At first, Ash had been surprised that Roger wanted to keep it quiet, but then he’d said something offhand about how Brian would probably deck him if he learned Roger put one of their regular gigs in jeopardy. As for Ash, she didn’t want her boss knowing she’d hooked up with the member of one of their most profitable bands, so she was happy to be discrete.
After a few more minutes of small talk with the band, she heads back in to the bar, and takes a moment to breathe. She loses herself in her work, forgetting the momentary slip-up, pouring drinks and pandering to the tipsy customers, and she finds herself actually enjoying the rest of her night. That is, until she comes out of the bathroom to find Roger waiting for her.
“Sorry ‘bout that.” He starts, and Ash rolls her eyes at him, breezing past, back to the bar. There’s not a lot of people left, Maureen’s got it under control, and so Ash grabs a cloth to start wiping down the tables.
“How’d you even remember the photo?” She asked, barely paying him any attention as she worked. He sat at the table she was wiping, and after a beat in which he didn’t answer, she paused in her movement, looking up at him. He just shrugged at her. “You know Freddie definitely knows something’s up.” She told him, eyes narrowed.
“It’s not my fault you apparently only own one photo of your best friend.” Roger snorted, and Ash looked up, glaring at him, suddenly paranoid of being overheard.
“Who is where exactly?” Ash asked, and Roger rolled his eyes.
“The rest of the band have gone home, don’t worry.” He told her, and Ash’s anger deflated at that, dropping her gaze.
“No, it’s your fault for mentioning the photo at all.” She snapped, moving on to the next table. “You could have just said no to Brian when he asked if you knew about me and Freddie.” And when he followed her to the next table, she gave up, moving to throw her cloth over the bar.
“I said I’m sorry, what more do you want from me?” He threw his hands in exasperation, leaning on the bar as she picked up the bin and headed for the back door. If they were going to have this conversation, she wasn’t going to let it happen in the bar.
“You’re a fucking idiot, Roger.” She scoffed, not even looking at him as she tipped the bar’s bin into the skip outside, practically fuming by now.
“Oh, that’s rich,” he spat, following it with a humourless laugh, and Ash whirled around, dropping the bin and stalking up to him where he was leaning against his van, her expression furious.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snarled, the two now toe-to-toe. They were so close he could practically feel the anger radiating off of her.
“It means I wasn’t the only one in that bedroom.” He said, voice low and dangerous, but his words just made Ash confused.
“But you’re the only one who’s managed to fuck up; I’m the one who cleaned up your mess! See, this is why you’re an-”
“Don’t you dare call me an idiot.” He warned, and Ash gave him a sharp, malice laced smile.
“Make me-” She doesn’t even get the first syllable of the taunting nickname out, because Roger crashes his lips to hers. They’re both acting out of instinct, rough and angry, her hands in his hair, tugging as a response when he bites her bottom lip. After a moment, she pulls back, both panting as they glare at each other. Without a word, Ash jumps, wrapping her legs around his waist, and he catches her, nails digging into her thighs enough to sting as he flips the two of them so her back is pressed to the side of his van.
“Are we really doing this again? Right after we almost got busted?” He asked, giving her thigh a squeeze, more out of habit than anything else.
“After you almost got us busted?” Ash asked, raising a single eyebrow. Roger just glares in response, choosing to kiss her again instead of shooting back an angry reply. After a few more moments where Roger presses against her, lips against hers hungry and desperate, Ash pushes him away, finding her feet before she goes crashing to the ground.
“I gotta do my job.” It sounds like the thought’s just occurred to her, breathless, leaning against the van to catch her breath.
“So we’re… not doing this?” Roger asked, frowning in his sudden confusion. Smoothing out her wrinkled shirt, Ash smirks up at him.
“Oh, no, we’re definitely doing this, I just need to clock out for the night.” And she heads back inside. Roger, for his part, leaned his forehead against the van, replaying everything that had happened, trying to figure out how it had led here, again, not that he was complaining.
“This,” the moment the back door of the pub opens, he can hear her voice, and when he looks over, she’s gesturing between the two of them, expression strangely determined, “is not a thing. We’re not a thing.” She’s adamant, and Roger rolls his eyes, opening the driver’s side door to the van.
“I don’t care what you call it.” He responded with an eye roll, climbing in the van, waiting for her to climb in the passenger side door so he could drive them both back to her place.
There’s a tension in the air the moment she closes her door, and they sit for a moment, his hands on the wheel and keys in the ignition, but the van remains quiet. Then, she’s leaning over and kissing him, climbing over the centre console to sit in his lap in the driver’s seat, his hands on her ass, her hands on his shoulders grinning as he groans against her lips when she grinds against him.
It’s not like last time, it’s angry and desperate, both furious at the other for almost being caught out earlier that night, a little mad at the fact that they’re sleeping together again, despite the fact that they were thoroughly enjoying every minute. They bruise, and bite, and hold each other a little too tight, a little too rough, and when Ash feels his teeth against her shoulder where he’s muffling a moan, she’s pretty sure it’s the best night she’s had in a very long time.
“I’m not kidding,” she finds herself saying, sitting up as she reaches into her drawer to pull out her cigarettes, coming down off the high of endorphins. The both of them are panting, “this isn’t going to happen again.” And she tries to sound firm about it, but when she looks over, Roger’s smirking up at her where he’s still sprawled out, heart beating erratically in his chest.
“Sure,” he doesn’t sound convinced, and holds out his hand for the cigarette after she’s taken a draft.
“I’m serious, I don’t do casual anymore!” She told him, and she waves off his response before he even says it. “I don’t do casual with the same person anymore.” She corrects herself, and Roger laughs, low and warm.
“I think you do casual very well,” and he reaches over to give her thigh a squeeze before passing back the cigarette. Time drifts by lazily in the silence, Ash taking a few puffs before she passes the cigarette back, fiddling with her fingers.
“We can fuck whoever we want.” She speaks, but it doesn’t sound like it’s entirely directed at him, actually, it sounds more like a nervous question, and Roger frowns.
“Yeah, of course.” He agrees, and Ash takes a deep breath. On the exhale, he looks up at her, and sees her quiet, reserved smile. It’s… it’s not something he’s seen before, she’s usually so sure of herself, it reminds him a little of their last conversation, and he hears himself asking about it before he can even register the full thought. “Why don’t you do casual?”
Ash pulls out another cigarette and lights it up, expression dark as she focuses on the task. She’s closing off again, he can tell, and he’s not sure why, but his heart hurts just a little.
“Bad experiences.” She makes a point to enunciate around the cigarette, avoiding looking at him altogether.
“Do you think I’m a bad experience.” He asks it honestly, curious as to what her answer will be.
“‘re you seeing someone?” She asks frankly, and he answers that he’s not. “You gonna fuck whoever you want, and let me do the same?”
“Of course.” He half laughs, and finally she looks at him, eyes narrowed, analysing. Taking another long draft, she hums thoughtfully.
“Then I don’t know.” After another drag, her lips twist into a sad little smile that makes Roger frown. “I haven’t fucked around like that with someone half-decent before.” Which only makes him frown harder.
“Who have you fucked around with?” He scoffs, and Ash raises her eyebrows, laughing a little, surprise written all over her features.
“I never claimed to have great taste.” And when she says it, Roger presses a hand to his heart, mock offended. The gesture has her laughing, bright and genuine, the sound brightening up the whole room, and Roger grins in return.
“Well I think you’ve got a great taste.” He purrs, propping himself up to reach across her to stub out his cigarette in the ash tray on her bedside table. This, of course, only causes her to laugh harder, blush rising on her cheeks as his hand find’s it’s way to her inner thigh, not letting her miss the double meaning in his words as his fingers drifted higher.
He presses a kiss to her jaw as she finishes off her cigarette, not looking at him for fear that she would burst out laughing again, and start coughing for the smoke. He starts kissing his way down her chest when she stubs out the cigarette, and when he feels her fingers card through his hair, he looks up. She’s smiling at him, warm, amused and affectionate, and something in his chest tightens a bit. He grins back, and moves lower.
The next morning, she warns him to forget everything in her room, but he knows he’s not going to forget the mug with the little cat face on it that she passes him, full of tea, or the fluffy blue bathrobe she’s wrapped around herself, and later, when they’re both crammed in a shower in the dorm’s shared bathroom, trying to be quiet and failing miserably, he knows the mandarin scent of her shampoo is one that he won’t forget soon.
Things between them are… well, they’re easier after that. Whenever the band comes to play at her pub, she greets them all with a warm smile, hugging each of them in greeting, even Roger, getting them all drinks, and cheering them on throughout the night. Sometimes Roger goes home with other girls, and there’s a weird mix of feelings in Ash’s heart, a relief that he’d kept his promise, that they could keep seeing other people, but part of her, well, if she was being honest, she was a little jealous.
There’s anxiety in her heart the night a pretty boy flirts with her, and she realises she wants to take him home, but she’s still got a lingering fear of Roger’s reaction, not because of Roger himself, but from boys in the past. The band isn’t playing that night, and she decides to throw caution to the wind. The boy diligently waits until she’s dismissed for the night, and then he laces his fingers with hers as they leave the pub. He’s soft and kind, knows what he’s doing, mostly, which is nice, and it’s a fun night. Ash lets herself have fun.
But sometimes they do go home together, not super often, once, maybe twice a month, he’ll catch her during her break before the others join them, and he risks kissing her in the light of the street lamp, and something in her chest eases. Or he catches her eye when he’s playing, and she’s drying glasses behind the bar, and she grins at him, giving him a wink, and he looks away, laughing.
“You guys are playing really well.” She grins when the band comes up to collect drinks, and Roger’s suppressing a smile, trying not to look at her, and the others just enjoy the praise.
The rest of the band hasn’t caught on, which they’re both grateful for, though Freddie has his suspicions. Maureen knows, but has been sworn to secrecy, and so Ash lets herself feel safe. Being with Roger is easy, it’s fun, he makes her laugh, and he eases the anxiety that clutches at her chest, not that she’d ever tell him that.
“What’s he doing here?” Brian’s voice is low where he’s tuning his guitar, nodding over to a man who’d just entered the bar, looking out of place. “You think he’s some executive or something?” He asked, a little hopeful, and Roger snorted.
“He’s wearing tweed, so I doubt it.” The man looks too old to be part of the crowd they usually draw in, but he doesn’t even spare them a passing glance. Instead, he makes a beeline for the bar where Ash is hanging up champagne flutes.
“Ashley, is that you?” His voice is smooth as honey, and the moment he speaks, Ash drops the glass she’s holding. It shatters, but she’s frozen, face blank, looking at the newcomer. The hairs on the back of Roger’s neck stand up the moment the man leans casually on the bar, like he owns the place, and he’s watching the exchange like a hawk.
“I’m working.” Is all Ash can say, still frozen in place. The man looks old enough to be her father.
“I can see that; you look lovely, by the way.” He tells her, and there’s something soft in his voice, the way he speaks to her, so familiar and intimate, and Ash unfreezes. The surprise comes when she ducks her head, smiling bashfully.
“Yeah, I, um, can I get you anything?” She asks, flushing, ducking quickly to find a dustpan and sweep up the broken glass. He orders a pint, and sits himself at the bar, letting Ash get on with her job, but his very presence flusters her, a state Roger had never seen her in at work, since she as usually so calm and confident.
None of the rest of the band seems to notice him, and they start soon enough, but the man’s there all night, waiting quietly and nursing his drinks, never straying too far from the bar. Roger sees the leering gaze flicks over the young girls in the crowd, and knows instinctually that Ash can’t see it. She doesn’t look to Roger all night, but she keeps glancing over at the man, surprisingly nervous, and when the third set ends and she’s due to take her break, she says something to him, and the two of them make their way out to the car park, the man taking her hand once she’s out from behind the bar.
Roger feels ill. Not because Ash is paying someone else attention, they’ve both been very clear about getting with other people, but something about the man sets him on edge.
if you need binders/breast forms/makeup/etc but don’t want your parents to know, now is the best time to get it.
you can order whatever it is online and when the package comes in if the ask what it is you can say something like “it’s a secret!” or even just sssh them. they’ll assume it’s a present for whatever holiday you celebrate and probably won’t press the issue.
oh my god this is amazing
I normally don’t reblog stuff like this but this is a very important life hack!
make sure you actually buy a present though or else this is all going to fall apart. it doesn’t have to be expensive, e.g. a “best dad” mug, socks, a bath bomb, multi-tool variations of everyday objects, soap, tea, a candle, et cetera.
with tumblr slowly dying, and me being scared that i’ll lose access to my fav side of the queen fandom, i made a discord server for us tumblr queenies who want to share the love (and thirst) for our boys in case tumblr dies or something!
andtheytoldustotellyouhello 