bensroger:

Summary: Roger and Reader are best friends, or were, but recently he’s grown more distant. While cleaning her apartment, Reader finds an old letter that was accidentally tucked away. In said letter, he pours his feelings out to her.

Word Count: 2515

Warnings: Just a bit of swearing

A/N: This is my first Roger Taylor fic, and the first fic I’ve written in awhile. It might be boring at first but just try to keep reading, I’m sorry. I really hope you enjoy this, because I worked hard on it. I’m not sure how I feel about this so feedback would be greatly appreciated. If you liked this enough to want a part two, please tell me!  Also, this is inspired by Love, Rosie. (I didn’t proofread excuse any errors)

The winter air in Seattle was crisp and cold, and you had bundled yourself up with a cozy, light pink sweater. You struggled trying to find the correct key to your apartment due to your nonstop shivering, and your filled hands. You had just gotten your groceries for the week, and it was the coldest week of the year so far.

You had finally entered your apartment, and the warmth from the heater hit your face. You let out a sigh of relief, only for your phone to start ringing. You rushed to the kitchen, as you were afraid the person calling would hang up after too long. You reached for the phone and held it to your ear. “Hello?”

“Y/N! It’s Roger! I just wanted to call and say hi!”

“Oh, hey.” You said in an awkward tone. He hadn’t called in so long, and he’d just seemed so out of reach lately.

“So, how’ve you been?”

You sighed. “I’ve been alright. The hotel’s been busy with the holidays coming up soon. We also got new furniture in most of our rooms. How about you Rog?”

“Well the tour’s been crazy I’m not gonna lie, but a good crazy. Right now we’re in this crazy fancy hotel, the Blue Moon Hotel. You’ll have to take tips from them.” He laughed to himself. You really missed his laugh… “We’re gonna perform in Los Angeles tomorrow night, we’ve been all over the US now…” He said trailing off. “Tour’s almost done, thankfully.”

“Oh did you already come to Seattle?” You said biting your lip, hoping he’d say no.

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to bother you,” he said, in a quieter voice now, “Plus we were just busy…”

“I wish you would’ve come by and visited… I miss you, Rog.” You sighed, trying to think of the last time you had seen him.

“Yeah… Look Y/N, Brian’s bothering me, says I’m taking too long, but I’ll talk to you soon hopefully.”

“Wait Rog—“ You started, but he had already hung up. With a sigh, you put the phone back on the wall and thought about Roger. He had been so distant the past few months, and it honestly hurt you. You had known Roger since college, and you even kept in touch after you moved across the globe to Seattle to run your own hotel. You’d gone to a lot of his concerts and talked to him all the time before. Now you were lucky if he called once per month, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why. He used to be one of your closest friends.

You’d never admit to it, but you fell for that annoying blonde boy years ago. Back when you were in uni, your boyfriend at the time cheated on you, and Roger found you crying after class. At that point you were already close friends, and he comforted you. You saw your ex-boyfriend later that day with a black eye, and you didn’t suspect Rog until you saw his knuckles. You thought it was kind of an ass thing to punch the guy, but sweet at the same time.

However, ever since he’s been in Queen, he’s always occupied with some skinny, tall girl, and you never think he’d look at you that way. So over the years, you gave up hope, but it’ll always hurt to know he never loved like that.

The rain began to tap on your windows, and you decided to watch the television to take your mind off things. A christmas movie was playing before it cut to a commercial that you had seen fifty times before for soap. You rolled your eyes and grabbed an old magazine that had been sitting on your table for too long. Instantly as you grabbed it, a piece of paper fell out. You frowned and realized upon further inspection that it was a letter addressed to you.

At first you figured it was just a card from your mom but when you opened, you recognized Roger’s handwriting immediately. The letter was dated from six months, and it dawned on you that it got stuck in the magazine during delivery.

What puzzled you the most was that he wrote an actual letter, it was so unRoger-like… He wouldn’t have done this unless it was important. You could feel your heart beating in your chest as you nervously ripped open the sealed envelope.

You began to read the letter as you held your breath in attempt to prepare for what the letter might hold.

Dear Y/N,

Look, don’t make fun of me for writing a letter. I know it’s weird, and not “Rogerlike” as you say, but I didn’t know how else to get this off my chest. Tour starts up again soon, which is why I’m writing this letter now. Everything I’ve been thinking and wanting to say to you for years are overflowing from this pen. I’m leaving this letter so you don’t feel pressured to give me an answer in a moment, so you have a lot of time before we see each other again. I know you will need to take your time trying to decide the answer to what I’m about to say. It’s a lot.

I know you, Y/N. You’re my best friend. I can see it in your eyes when you’re happy or sad, angry & mad… You can never lie to me, because your eyes betray you. I know you more than anyone in the world, maybe better than you know yourself. And I don’t want just any guy to date, because that isn’t what you deserve.

You deserve someone who loves you with his entire heart, and thinks about you every second of the day. Someone who constantly just wondering where you are, what you’re doing, who you’re with, and if your okay. You should be with someone who loves all of especially your flaws. You should be with someone who can make you laugh, dance your weird dances, and someone who will never hurt you. Someone who should’ve taken a chance to be with you years ago insteading of being afraid to try.

But I’m not afraid anymore, Y/N, and I’m not afraid to try like I used to be. I want to be with you and I want to be the person who gets to love you. I know it’s crazy and I know it’s a risk. I love the little things you do, your laugh, your smile, the way you care for others…

And don’t think I’ll constantly be sappy like this. This isn’t the Roger you know and trust me this is kind of weird for me too, but I don’t know any better way to tell you.

I can be a lot, I know that. And so can my life, the whole band thing with the tour and fans… It can be a lot, too. But I hope that you love me enough too that it won’t matter.I get it if you don’t feel the same way about me, and when I come back, we can act like this never happened. I never wrote this letter, and I never told you all this sappy stuff.I’d be okay with that, as long as you’re happy. We can still be best friends, and I’ll be okay with knowing that I tried. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t love me that way.

But if you do maybe like me… Fucking tell me! Please.

Love ya,

Rog.

You blinked, still trying to process. You could feel how much emotion Roger had poured into the letter, and that was a lot for him. You were left breathless, and just sat there in silence with the rain pouring down outside. Roger loved you…
He really did.

Roger, the boy who made your nineteenth birthday by throwing you a surprise party. Roger, the boy who you had gone out as friends with so many times, hoping it end up to be a date. Roger, the boy who promised he’d always be there for you and protect you. Roger, the boy who you had fallen in love with over the years. He loved you back…

You could barely think, but you knew all you wanted to do was see him. And that’s how you ended up shoving anything and everything in a suitcase. You speeded out of the building and into the pouring rain. Somehow, you were able to buy a ticket for the next flight to Los Angeles. It was a crappy aisle seat, though.

The flight there was short in comparison to others, but for you, it was the longest flight in the world. It didn’t help that the kid behind you kept kicking, and the gross man next to you was snoring. But you couldn’t complain, because you were finally going to see Roger.

Once you landed in LA, you were astonished by how warm and sunny it was at this time of year. The roads were packed and the hustle was nonstop. There weren’t any hotel rooms available last minute, so you unfortunately had to settle for a dingy motel room that smelled like mold and burnt popcorn. But again, you couldn’t complain because you were finally going to see Roger.

You remembered during the phone call he said he was staying at the Blue Moon Hotel for the weekend, because you liked the name and it did sound really fancy…

You took a cab and twenty minutes later, you were there. Roger was right, it was crazy fancy. There was a long, soft, shaggy carpet that stood out against the pristine marble floor, and the couches in the lobby looked incredibly soft… Your admiration of the hotel’s lobby was cut short by someone calling your name.

You swiftly turned on your heel to find Brian all alone, smiling at you. “Hey Y/N, how’ve you been?” He brought you in for a hug. Brian was always so nice to you, so were Freddie and Deaky. “We’ve missed you!”

You beamed at him. “I’ve missed you guys a lot, too. Sorry I’ve not been around as much.”

“Don’t worry about it, I know it’s not your fault. Anyway what are you doing here?” Brian said.

“Well I came to look for Rog, I’ve got to tell him something.”

“That’s a long way to come for Roger, but I’m glad you’re here. He’s in room 2187 on floor 4.”

“Thanks a lot Brian.” You said, pulling him into another quick hug. “I’ll see you later.” He smiled at you.

You sped walk to the elevator instead of running so you didn’t stand out as much. The elevator ride seemed to take forever, and you regretted not taking the stairs. You heard a ding and once again sped walked out.

The hotel hallway was bright and clean, and you hated how nice it was here. The numbers drew closer to Roger’s room, and you were currently at 2179. Then 2185… And then you froze.

You stood for a moment, only holding the letter he had written a few months ago. Nerves began to bubble up and you were terrified. But nonetheless you softly knocked at the door. You could feel your heart practically beating out of your chest. You could hear footsteps from behind the door, and then you heard it unlock. The door swung open, and you couldn’t help but grin.

Your smile faded quickly when you weren’t met with the face that made you come all this way. It was a brunette, and she was wearing nothing but a button up shirt. “Are you here for room service or…” She began. The girl must’ve understood by the confused look on your face that you weren’t. “Are you lost? I don’t know what you’re here for.” She said in almost a rude tone.

“Who is it Connie?” You heard his voice. Your face burned and you felt like crying right then and there. However, you wouldn’t allow yourself to do so.

“I— Nevermind.” You said, and with that you turned around. You clutched the bag that hung across your body as some sort of security. Your hands were empty now, and you realized you dropped the letter at the doorway, but it didn’t matter now, did it?

“It was just some girl…” You heard the brunette say far behind you.

You were close to the elevator now, and far away from Roger. This dream turned into a nightmare and all you wanted was to go home.

Roger, back in his room, walked over to the where Connie was standing. “Who was it?”

“I think she was lost, but whatever. God, why is room service taking so damn long?” She rolled her eyes, heading back towards the bed. Roger stepped out in the hallway, looked left and right before hearing a crunch under his foot. He studied it before picking it up… It was really crumpled at this point, but he was able to make out “Love ya, Roger.” And he instantly knew it was the letter he had written you.

“Shit” he mumbled to himself. He tried to chase after you down the hallway, and ran as fast as he could.

You pressed the lit up button in the elevator and then you saw him standing there, at the end of the hallway. His blonde hair was a mess and he wasn’t wearing a shirt, just sweats. It was the first time you’d laid eyes on him in months… You locked eyes with him, and then shook your head. “Y/N, wait I can explain!” Roger began to run toward the elevator, but then the doors in front of you closed.

Finally alone, you started let the tears roll down your face, and sobs escape. You felt foolish to think it’d work out, or that he’d even wait for you. Of course you didn’t mean that much to him, how stupid could you be… The elevator doors opened, and you wiped your eyes as you entered the hotel lobby.

You started to head for the door when you heard, “Y/N wait!” You froze instantly recognizing the voice, and didn’t turn around.

“Please go back Rog, I shouldn’t have come.” You sighed out. “Connie—Is that her name—I’m sure she’s waiting for you.” You said, almost in a whisper, your voice quivering. You squeezed your eyes shut.

Although you didn’t mean it in a rude way, your last words were a slap in the face to Roger. He was left speechless, and couldn’t find the words to say, even though he wanted to say so much… He noticed the pain and the sadness in your voice, and he didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Roger just thought you ignored his letter.

You looked back at him over your shoulder, a sad smile on your face. “Goodbye Rog.” You walked out of the hotel, leaving the man who you once believed was the love of your life, behind.

bensroger:

Summary: After what happened with Roger in Los Angeles, the Y/N quickly goes back to Seattle, and isn’t sure where to go from there. Meanwhile, Roger has problems with another girl, who threatens to get in the way of Y/N and Roger finally getting together.

Word Count: 2911

Warnings: Swearing, the usual

A/N: This has been asked for so much, and I really hope you all like this!! All the messages I got were super sweet so thank you! I didn’t proofread so excuse any mistakes please! Don’t forget to leave feedback in my inbox or by messaging me, anything helps!! Also my requests are always open! 🙂 Enjoy! Also it kind of switches between POV’s but you’ll see

Part 1 

| Masterlist

The patter of the rain against your windows was loud, and was occasionally accompanied by a flash of lightning and a boom of thunder. The clock next to your bed read 11:02 AM.

It had been only two days since you returned home from Los Angeles, and since that return you’ve only moped around your apartment. It made your heart feel heavy whenever you thought about what happened with Roger. Despite the painful emotions that came with the memories of Los Angeles and the letter, they were all you could think about. You kept replaying it in your head, contemplating whether or not you should’ve run. After all, he chased after you and maybe would’ve said he loved you still, or maybe he would’ve said he didn’t care anymore. You felt guilt over the way you reacted and just left him standing there in that hotel lobby. Roger wanted to tell you something, but you freaked out and ran off.

You no longer had the letter with you, but you would recite bits and pieces to yourself. You just sat in bed all day in a depressive state. You looked around your messy bedroom and knew that it wasn’t healthy to be stuck like this. It was healthy to keep thinking about Roger, who didn’t love you like you loved him.

You got up out of your bed and put your messy hair into a somewhat neat bun. You were still in your pajamas, and you couldn’t imagine how awful you looked in the moment. You knew you had to move on, and you only knew one way how to.

The desk light shone brightly on the blank sheet of paper that now sat in front of you. You tapped the pen on the desk as you thought about what to write. All of the sudden you knew what to write, just as a light bulb would turn on in a cartoon. Once your pen started writing, there was no stopping it.

You smiled to yourself as you reread it to yourself, knowing that every word you wrote was true. You carefully placed it in an envelope, and wrote his address on it. You knew he wouldn’t be home for another week or so, but you felt you could wait another week after waiting for years to tell him.

Once you dropped the letter off at the post office, you felt like you get on with your life until he responded (If he responded, that is).

Sure enough, a week later, Roger walked up to his own door, and struggled with his keys to open his apartment, his hands full with his luggage. Connie, the girl from the hotel, trailed behind him. He didn’t know why he kept her around, honestly. Roger didn’t like her, she was too boring and quite a klutz. He barely wanted to bring her too his house, but she just kept pestering.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you and the last time he saw you, no matter how much he tried. Six months ago, he made sure to push every thought of you out of his head, because it was like salt in the wound every time he was reminded of you. Roger believed you rejected him altogether when he didn’t get a response to his letter.

With an aggressive tug at the door knob, it finally swung open, and he dropped all of his stuff on the ground. “Finally…” he murmured out. His eyes immediately landed on a framed photo you and him at one of his first gigs with Smile. That picture felt worlds ago…

“So this is your place then?” Connie said with a smirk on her face. “It’s nice I like it…”

“Yeah well don’t get too comfortable.” Roger scoffed. “You’re not staying here that long.”

The brunette rolled her eyes, “Come on don’t be such a dick. Why don’t you show me your bed.”

Roger pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Oh my god Connie, not now…” He sighed looking up to face her. “Can you get the mail or the other bags from downstairs or something, I need a moment.” He nearly yelled, annoyed with the girl.

“Whatever.” She huffed out, clearly annoyed with him, too.

Roger sat down on the couch, and was once again faced with the picture of you two. “Damn it.” He whispered, feeling the emotions of losing you all over again. He turned the picture away from him, and thought in the silence that filled his house.

In Roger’s pocket, the crumpled up letter gave you sat. He didn’t know what to with it now, and it was quite embarrassing to reread it. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why you’d come with an answer now…

Roger sat down on his couch and leaned his head back, and took a deep breath. Where did we go wrong? That single thought repeats itself over and over again in his mind. The pain, the feeling in his chest and stomach made him second guess sending the letter all those months ago. There was no going back. No do overs. And because of the timing, he had likely lost you forever. His fingers trembled around the cigarette as he began to light it. The smell and taste were just as bitter as he was.

Connie came back in a split second with the mail, a smile on her face. He could tell she was using him, but at this point he didn’t care, he just needed a distraction. “Did anything important come in the mail?” He said to her.

Connie swiftly looked through the many envelopes, and her eyes were narrowed when she laid eyes on one addressed to Roger from a Y/N Y/L/N. She remember that name, and she hated it. He’d talk about her every once in awhile, and even mumble her in name in his sleep. Connie felt jealous rise up, and she rolled her eyes at the thought of that girl. She was threatening everything Connie had done to get this close to Roger…

She took one glance at Roger, to see if he was paying attention to her, and then when he wasn’t, Connie discreetly shoved the letter in her purse. She sat down next to Roger on the couch and handed him the letters. “Mostly bills and everything, maybe a few letters from your friends.”

He skimmed the letters and then threw them on the coffee table after he felt there was nothing important. “We’re going out tonight, are you in?” He said, without even looking at her.

The brunette smiled and cuddled up against him. “Of course, I’m always in.”

Later that night, Roger was waiting for Connie to finish. He was honestly tired of this girl, but kept her around for company because the worst thing in the world is being lonely. She was still putting on her makeup, and he stood by the door, impatient. “Can you hurry up already? The damn thing will be almost over by the time you’re ready.” He yelled across the house.

“I can’t find my lipstick,” her voice rang from far away, “Can you check if it’s my purse?”

Roger rolled his eyes, but did so anyway. Nothing was in her purse except some money, her lipstick, and a piece of paper. As he pulled out the piece of paper to investigate, he frowned. He turned it over. His eyes widened as he read your name. Roger was confused at first, and then infuriated.

“Did you find it-” Connie said walking up, stopping once she saw the letter in his hand. “Oh.” Was all she said.

“What the fuck is this?” He held it up to her, not looking in her direction.

“I was going to give it to you, but I knew you were going to leave once-”

“What Y/N writes to me doesn’t concern you.” Roger said, his voice shaking with anger. He was gritting his teeth now, and he wanted to scream.

“Look I’m sorry but that Y/N bitch-”

“Don’t you ever call her that!” He seethed, snapping his head toward her. “Don’t even say her name. Get out of my house.”

Connie whined, “Roger, baby, please let me explain.”

“I said get the fuck out now!” Roger yelled at her, pointing aggressively to the door.

“Whatever, let me grab my things…” She mumbled, to the point of tears.

He walked closer to her, “No, I said get out!” Connie was clearly terrified, and headed toward the door with a quick shuffle.

Roger angrily swung the door open to his bedroom, grabbing her bags and heading towards the window. He slid it open and chucked her belongings out the window into the snow below. He picked up the picture frame on the end table and threw it at the door as hard as he could. He should’ve never been with Connie in the first place, the way you looked at him in that lobby was like a knife in the chest. He should’ve left Connie right then and there. Roger began to walk to the kitchen when he saw the picture of you and him on the floor, covered in shards of glass. He gently picked up, and smiled at it.

Roger looked at the crumpled envelope that he smashed when he was yelling at Connie, and his anger slowly melted away. It was written in red ink in your recognizable handwriting; another one of the things you did that he loved. His hands were shaking as he tore it open, and began reading.

Dear Roger,

I’m sorry to have gotten back to you about your letter so late. You must understand it wasn’t my intention to ignore you, but that it just happened. Your letter was stuck inside of an old magazine, and I hadn’t known it was there until the day I last saw you. But now, I’m writing my own letter, and I only hope that you receive this faster than I received yours.

You may be right. I do deserve someone who loves me with his entire heart, and thinks about me every second of the day. Someone who is constantly just wondering where I am, what I’m doing, who I’m with, and if I’m okay. I should be with someone who loves all of me, especially my flaws. But so you do, Rog. You deserve that someone too.

You deserve a girl who always is thinking about you, if even it hurts. Someone who counts down the seconds until they see you again. Someone who loves your stupid flaws, like the way you throw things when you get mad or how jealous you get. Someone who loves your dorky quirks and understands you. I don’t know if I’m that someone, honestly, that’s for you to decide. As for me, you will always be my someone.

When I got your letter I ran to you, but you didn’t even answer the door. I don’t want a repeat of that. It hurt so fucking much to know that I embarrassed myself and that you probably don’t even care anymore. I don’t want a repeat of that.

That’s why I’m writing my own letter, to avoid the heartbreak. If you want to be with that Connie girl, that’s okay. I’d understand I was too late. It’d hurt like hell, but I would understand.

I’m sorry I was afraid to tell you I loved you in the first place. But I have loved you since college and I will likely still love you, even if you break my heart.

This is our opportunity. Let’s stop being afraid and take the chance. Please don’t lose this letter like I did, and take care, Roger.

Love Ya,

Y/N

Roger couldn’t help but smile at the way you copied his “Love Ya.” He didn’t realize it, but he was nearly crying, and he wasn’t a super emotional person in the first place. He put the letter down and stood in the silence of his own home.

Back in Seattle, you sat behind the counter at the hotel you managed. It was dry, cold day that still had dark clouds looming above. It had been a particularly slow day, with only a few people checking in. You had just checked in someone wearing a Queen shirt, bringing your thoughts to Roger and the whole letter ordeal. Almost lost in thought, you realized your shift was over and you should get home. You grabbed your brightly-colored umbrella and exited the building, with the blonde drummer still occupying your thoughts. You still felt hopelessly in love with him, and upon that realization, you let out a heavy sigh, your breath appearing in front of you.

As a drop of crystal-clear water appeared on your face, you smiled to yourself. The rain was something that stopped your thoughts from buzzing, calmed you, but at the same time excited you. The waves of the salty liquid washed the pavement creating a melancholic song. Waiting for the rain to wash all of the misery away, you stood there, your gaze burning into the horizon, staring at the beauty of the upcoming storm and the crying clouds. You took in a breath of the fresh, crisp winter air, and found yourself calmer. You quickly got in your little red car to avoid getting anymore soaked.

Once you got home, you made yourself some tea, put on your favorite vinyl, and enjoyed watching the rain fall on the city below. You felt peaceful and happy for the first time since Los Angeles, and with that thought you smiled to yourself.

A soft knock on the door brought out of your thoughts. “Just a second!” You called out to the person, putting the cup of tea down on your coffee table, and standing up from your comfortable spot on the couch.You opened the door without looking up. “Sorry I look like such a mess it’s just-” You stopped when you were finally met with those beautiful blue eyes that you fell in love with all those years.

Roger was soaking wet, slightly shivering, and his hair a mess. “Why…” You cleared your throat, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to spill. “What’re you doing here.”

Without saying a word, he reached into the pocket of his coat, and pulled out the opened envelope addressed to him. Your eyes fell to what he was holding, and your mouth fell open. “I’m sorry.” was all you said, it came out as whisper.

He laughed slightly. “What are you sorry about? I’m the one who had some random girl answer the door.” Roger saw your eyes start to get misty. He titled your chin up with his hand. “Hey, don’t be sorry.” He pulled you in for a hug, and you closed your eyes shut, and just took in the moment.

You open your eyes and frowned. “Roger, you’re soaking wet.” You recoiled. “How long were you out there?”

He shrugged. “About a half hour… I didn’t know what to say when I saw you.”

“Roger! You could’ve caught a cold! Look at you your freezing!” You exclaimed. Roger only chuckled at your reaction.

“I love you.” He blurted out, smiling at you. You just stared up at him, not sure what to say. Roger had written it on paper before, but now here he was, actually saying it to you. Slowly, he presses his lips to yours. It’s soft and gentle, and maybe there’s no fireworks or sparks, but it’s better than that – it’s a wave of warmth that fills you up, spilling out from your heart and the warmth of Roger’s lips on yours and rushing to every corner of your body: the cracks in between your toes, the crooks of his elbows, the tips of his ears. Every inch of your body is saturated with love.

You pulled away with a smile, and grabbed his hands. “I love you, too, Rog, but you’re shivering please let me make you some tea. Come inside and you can tell me all about your tour.” You said, still beaming.

Roger rolled his eyes playfully, “Well how can I say no now?”

You walked more into your apartment, and made him a cup of hot chocolate while he sat at your counter. He was telling you all about the shows and the crazy crowds of fans; both which he adored. You turned around and gave him a good look, admiring how happy you were that everything worked out in the end. “Rog,” you interrupted his story.

“Yeah?” Roger looked up at you with a cute smile on his face, and you almost melted right then and there.

“I really missed you…” You said, and couldn’t help but grin.

He walked over to you, wrapped his arms around you and murmured, “I really missed you, too.” You gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and you couldn’t ask for more. Here Roger Taylor was, the boy you deserved, with Y/N Y/L/N, the girl he deserved.

Tags: @your-idiotic-excellency @mentamaree @rogersfalsettos @miahelizaaabeth @amberlikestoomanyfandoms @secretsweetscollectionblog @littlesaltybrat​ 

hiken-no-stark:

Finally is here! 😀

Thank you so much @singlemothersteveharrington​ and @rip-redbeard​ for the help 💖💖💖💖💖💖

And thanks to everyone who offered to help me. I really appreciate it.

ENJOY!

Warning: NSFW.

*Gif’s not mine*

A = Aftercare
(What they’re like after sex)

• It depends if he’s drunk or
  not.
• If he’s drunk, he will immediately wrap around you
  and fall asleep.
• If not he’ll smoke a
  cigarette, resting one arm behind his head.
• After exhaling the smoke he
  gives you a playful smirk.
• “Do I have something on my face?”
  He’d ask.
• You giggle and get closer
  to him, resting your head on his chest.
• He’s
  usually a bit closed off and reseved when it comes to his emotions, but when
  he’s alone with you, laying on the bed, blissed out with cigarrette smoke
  wafting above your heads, he’ll talk to you about anything and everything. 
• His
  voise is always soft and raspy during these moments, and sometimes he’ll shift
  his body so that he’s murmmuring into your hair, smiling against your ear when
  the sensation makes you giggle.
• Then
  he caresses your hair until you fall asleep. 

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of their partners)

• Roger loves your ass. 
• He likes to subtely tuck his hand into
  the back pocket of your jeans
• When you nap together he always pulls
  you on top of him so that he can feel you pressed against him, resting one hand
  on your back underneath your shirt and the other on the curve of your ass. 
• He’s always playfully
  spanking you.
• Especially before starting
  to record or before a concert.
• “Roger! Stop it!”
• “It’s for good
  luck, petal.”
• “Do you want to spank my
  ass for good luck?” Freddie ask.
• “Fuck off, Freddie!” Roger yells, giving
  him a swift kick in the ass. 

C = Cum
(Anything to do with cum basically)

• Well, well, well, our Roger
  loves to cum all over your ass.
• He loves the contrast with
  your skin.
• But he also loves to cum in
  your mouth and breasts.
• Especially when you’re on your knees
  before a concert.  
• You would lower your blouse
  enough to show your breasts and open your mouth waiting for him to give you
  what you want.
• “Fuck (Y/N).” 

D = Dirty Secret

• He wants to fuck you over
  his drums. 
• Or at least use his
  drumsticks to make you cum. 

E =
Experience (How experienced are they?)

• Let’s be real… Roger is a
  womanizer, so he has a lot of experience.
• He has slept with enough fans
  to know exactly what he does. 

F =
Favourite Position

• Well if Roger loves your
  ass, he loves fucking you from behind.
• Holding your ass up for
  him, leaving some bruises
  on your waist.
• “Ah! Right there, Rog!”
• “You like that, petal?” He
  asks and then spanks you hard,
  making you scream.
• But he also likes having
  you on top.
• He moves his hands from
  your back to your breasts, pinching your nipples and making you moan.
• Then his hands move to your
  ass, squeezing it.
• “Ride me, baby.”
• And when you start bouncing
  up and down, he adjusts his arms behind his head, enjoying the view with a
  smirk on his face. 

G = Goofy
(Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

• Roger can be making jokes
  at the beginning, only to relax you.
• But when he starts to fuck you,
  he leaves the jokes aside and start with the dirty talk. 

H = Hair
(How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

• I think he shaves but not
  all of it.
• Only a little to make it
  look more aesthetic (?) 
• He doesn’t want a jungle down there. 

I =
Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

• He can be romantic if he
  wants.
• Maybe not the type of guy
  who will lay you on a bed of roses.
• But he has his own way of showing his love.
• For example… Kissing you
  like his life depends on it. 
• He can kiss every part of
  your body, leaving bruises, whispering compliments to you. 
• Also he holds you close to
  him, feeling each other’s heartbeating and heavy
  breaths.  

J = Jack
Off (Masturbation headcanon)

• Oohla la.
• Mr. Taylor absolutely does it.
• Mostly when you can’t go
  with the band for the tours. 
• He needs a way to relieve his stress
  after a concert.
• Even though he can have any girl he wants, he prefers
  to drink and smoke, waiting impacientely to
  go back to the hotel.
• Once he’s there, he’ll jerk off until he cums all
  over his abs. 

K = Kink
(One or more of their kinks)

• Spanking you all the time.
• And, of course, dirty
  whispers in your ear. It
  doesn’t matter if you two are alone or not.
• “I want to fuck you right
  here on this couch.”
• “We can hear you, Roger.”
  Brian says, without removing his attention from his guitar. 
• “Come on guys, are we
  here to make music or have a fuckin’ orgy? That’s disgusting.” John says, lifting up his arms.
• “I vote for the orgy.”
  Freddie announces, lifting his cigarrette above
  his head as he enters
  the studio.  

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

• ALL THE PLACES ARE GOOD FOR
  SEX.
• Your bedroom. 
• The studio. 
• The bathroom (Shower sex
  is a must)
• The tour bus.
• In the back of taxis and limos.
• His car. 
• Freddie’s
  bedroom.
• In the dressing room before shows.

M =
Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

• Seeing you in his clothes.
• And much more because he
  knows that you are only wearing your panties under his shirt.
• During sex… He loves the
  way you bite your lip to hold in
  your moans, so he increases his pace to make you scream.
• And of course when you say
  his name. 
• “Rog please… Don’t stop.
  Roger!” 

N = NO
(Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

• Anything that includes him
  hurting you.
• He can be a little rough
  sometimes, but he’s always careful not to go
  too far.
• He’s not a fan of exbozitionism. He’ll
  have some fun stealing a quickie here and there, but when it comes to actually
  being in the company of others, he almost
  never goes further than a swift kiss or a pinch on the bum. 
• There are some sides of you that  he doesnt want anyone but him to get to see.  

O = Oral
(Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

• He likes giving. Likes the way you squirm
  under him and hold his hair. 
• “You taste so sweet,
  baby.” He smirks at you,
  licking his lips.
• BUT… He loves receiving even more. 
• Roger holds your hair in a
  ponytail to see your red cheeks while you suck him off.
• “Good girl.” He
  says, caressing your cheek.
• He grunts while you take him
  deeper in your mouth.
• Then he holds your head in
  place while he start fucking your mouth. You close your eyes and place your
  hands in his waist.
• “I’m close.” He
  whisper, trying to control his moans. 
• So you move one of your
  hands to caress his balls.
• “Shit.” With a grunt he
  cums in your mouth.
• He lets his head fall back and when
  returns his eyes to you, he smirks when he sees you licking your lips. “That’s my girl.“ 

P = Pace
(Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

• Roger can start s of slow and
  sensual and filling your body with wet kisses and sweet compliments.
• Then he slowly
  increases his pace. 
• Holding on the
  headboard with one hand and the other grasping
  the sheets.
• Your nails mark his arms and back. 
• “Rog… Harder.”
• He smirks and stops for one
  moment. 
• “Hands and knees,
  petal.” He holds
  your waist and flips you, giving your ass a spank. 
• You shake your ass, making him
  smirk. 
• “Naughty girl.”
  He says and enters you in one thrust. “Fuck.”

Q =
Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

• Roger always is busy, so quickies
  are an important part of your lifes. 
• No matter where you are.
  You can bet you’ll find him between your legs.
• “Roger, you have to
  go.” You says, while he’s kissing your neck and holding up
  your skirt. Outside you can hear all the screams calling for Queen. “The
  concert is about to start." 
• Before he takes it too far, he always
  presses a few urgent, sloppy kisses to the side of you neck, murmurring “Tell me you want me to stop” into the
  skin just underneath your ear.
• You never do. 
• "Don’t worry petal,
  i’ll be quick.” He whispers, lowering your panties.
• Sometimes he ask you to go
  to the studio with him to practice before recording. But it always ends with you two
  fucking on the couch.
• And of course you have been
  caught sometimes.
• “For fuck’ sake, Roger!”
  John yells. “I eat on that couch!" 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

• Well I think it’s already
  clear.
• He loves taking risks.
• Dirty whispers, fucking
  everywhere, spanking in public. 

S =
Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

• He’s not superhuman. I
  think he can go for at least 3 or 4 rounds. Especially when you two haven’t seen each other in a
  long time. 
• And in those rounds
  he will give you all the orgasms he can before he cums.
• For sure he goes in-between
  your legs and take his time to get you ready to fuck again. 

T=Toy (Do
they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

• Do drumsticks
  count?
• If so, then he’d
  love to fuck you with them. 
• But he thinks is a dirty
  thing to ask for. So he only caresses your breasts with them.
• One day he will. 

U =
Unfair (how much they like to tease)

• I think he doesn’t like to
  tease.
• He loves to see you cum for
  him, so he doesn’t deny you your release as long as you scream his name over
  and over again. 

V =
Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

• He’s very loud when he’s drunk. Moans, grunts, bad words.
• Normally he only grunts and
  moans when he’s close to orgasming. 
• He loves to breathe heavily
  in your neck and tell you dirty things in your ear. 
• "Fuck (Y/N), you’re so
  fuckin’ tight. So fuckin’ good for me, baby.” He grunts and slaps your ass.
  “Cum all over my cock, petal." 

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your
choice)

• You decide to
  make his dirty secret come true.
• At first you’ll be very
  nervous, so he begins touching you with his hands, caressing your folds. 
• "You’re so wet,
  baby.” He bites your ear. “I like it.”
• Then you feel something hard against
  your pussy. 
• “Roger!" 
• "Relax, baby.” He
  says and then slowly slides the drumstick into your
  wet hole. 
• “Roger.” You moan
  and he kisses your cheek, starting to slowly move
  the drumstick. Being careful not to hurt you.
• You grab his
  shoulders and squirm under him. 
• You lower your hand and
  start touching your clit, moaning loudly while he kisses your neck. 
• “You like it?”
  You only nod with heavy breaths.
• “Don’t stop,
  please.” He smirks and bites your neck, leaving a red mark.
• “I don’t plan on it." 

X = X-Ray
(Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

• He’s an average size.
• The perfect dick to make you
  scream and beg for more. 

Y =
Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

• Come on… It’s Roger
  Taylor, that says everything.
• f he can… sex 24/7.
• The smallest things will get him going from the way you sit in your chair to the way you bite your lip when they get
  dry during the winter months. 

Z = ZZZ
(how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

• Like I said, it depends on whether or not he’s
  sober. 
• When
  he’s drunk, he’ll want to pass out right away, but will refuse to until you
  come back to bed. 
• If he had it his way, the two of you
  would just curl up and worry about the mess in the morning- but you usually
  pull yourself out of his embrace- with much difficulty-, and get up to change
  into clean clothes (much to his chagrin)
• When lying down in bed and complaining
  doesn’t do the trick, he’ll drag himself to where you’re standing in the
  bathroom, and sit down to help wipe you up and dress you in one of his clean
  shirts, before scooping you up in his arms and uncerimoniously dumping you into
  the bed, and practically collapsing on top of you. 
• When he’s sober, he always  stays awake and smokes while you fall asleep, carassing
  your hair and smileing softly as he watches the rise and fall of your chest. 

Taglist: @lemonlockers​

buckyofthemyscira:

Summary: You couldn’t help but fall in love with your best friend, Roger Taylor. The only problem? He has no clue. So with the lovely assistance of Freddie and the guys, they team up together to help try to make him notice this before it’s too late. 

Word Count: 3,791.

A/N: First Roger fic! Tried my best to do our boy justice. Big thank you to @yourealegendfred for being a great help during the process of this story and beta’ing. Hope you guys enjoy! Feedback is always, always appreciated.

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ghostxmonument:

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

AN: This one was a request! I hate to admit how much I love writing angst, and hopefully this lives up to the expectation. Let me know what you think!

Warning: Angst, injury, mentions of being sick

Request: I love love loovveee you’re writing I am currently obsessed with your current Roger Taylor fic oh my gosh. I was wondering if I could request a little angsty one-shot with him?? Maybe the band is on tour and the reader broke up with him but he hears that they got hurt and he flew back to see them or something idek I just love angst oof.

———————

Realistically, it had been a long time coming. The months apart, the constant rumors, and the hurried phone calls had become too much for you to bear. You loved him, of course you loved him. But after the recent string of events, you just couldn’t handle it anymore.

He had been on tour for about two weeks now, and in that time, he had only managed to call you a handful of times. Every time you picked up the phone, you could hear a raging party in the background, and you could always tell that he had been drinking. He was having the time of his life, he would tell you, and you would try to find it in yourself to be happy for him. He was out living his dream. However, it wasn’t fair to you to be stuck waiting for him to come back to you.

John, who called you almost every day, tried to convince you that Roger was being faithful. He swore up and down that he never once allowed a girl to go farther than hug him, but the news seemed to become more and more convincing. There wasn’t a single picture that he was in where he wasn’t surrounded by beautiful women. You weren’t the most secure person in the first place, and the jealousy just made everything worse.

You knew that he should be calling any minute. It was early for you, but you knew with the time difference that it would be late for him. You had asked John earlier in the day to make sure that he called. You had something important you needed to talk to him about. You tapped your foot nervously against the wood floor, and almost jumped out of your skin when the phone finally rang. You felt like your stomach was in your throat as you picked up the receiver to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hello, love!” His voice was loud, but you could still barely make it out over all the background noise. He was at another after party. You sighed as you twirled the phone cord around your finger absentmindedly.

“How are you?” You asked quietly. You wanted to skip the small talk, but it didn’t seem fair to start the conversation with all your emotions.

“I’m fantastic! The show was amazing, and this party is ridiculous. But John said that you needed to talk to me about something.”

You could hear a girl scream in the background and Roger laughed. Your mood plummeted further. He sounded so happy, and you knew that what you were going to tell him was most likely going to ruin his night.

“I did. Roger, listen. I don’t think that I can do this anymore.”

You could feel the tears building in the silence that followed. There was still the loud party in the background, but Roger didn’t say anything. You weren’t sure that he had even heard you until you heard some shuffling and suddenly the noise got a little bit quieter.

“What… what do you mean?” His voice was much quieter, and you had to swallow the lump in your throat before you could speak again.

“I don’t think I can be in this relationship anymore.”

More silence. A tear slipped down your cheek and you tried to hold back the sob that was building in your throat. You didn’t want to do this, but you had to think about yourself for once. You weren’t happy anymore, and you couldn’t deal with the constant uncertainty as to whether Roger was going to come back to you.

“Please, don’t do this. I love you, YN. I haven’t done anything with anyone else, I swear-“

“It’s not just about that, Roger.” You interrupted, unable to listen to his pleas. “I didn’t want to do this over the phone, but I thought it was best that I do it sooner rather than later. I’m so sorry.”

You were choking on air now, trying to breathe through the sobs that were now wracking your body. You covered your mouth with your hand to muffle the sound. You could hear a sniffle from the other end, and the sound caused a new wave of tears to form.

“YN…”

“Goodbye Roger.”

You quickly hung up, not wanting to hear what else he had to say. You continued to cry for what felt like hours afterward. It wasn’t fair. You wanted to be with him, but the way that you were now was not what you needed. You needed stability. You needed comfort. And when he was far away on tour, he could give you neither of those things.

It wasn’t long before it was time for you to start getting ready for work. You welcomed the distraction, and hoped that you were busy so that you wouldn’t have time to think about your broken heart. You slipped on your work clothes, and avoided the side of the closet where Roger had been keeping some of his things. You continued your regular morning routine and when it came time to leave, you grabbed your keys off the kitchen counter.

Your office was only a few blocks away, but with the rain you decided you would drive rather than walk. You climbed into your car, and almost as soon as you were buckled inside, the rain started coming down even harder. You couldn’t help but think that it was like the sky knew exactly how you were feeling. Slowly, you pulled away from the curb and started on your short journey. It was difficult to see, but knowing London, you were fairly used to it.

You had no sooner started across the intersection down the street from your house when you saw the headlights. You didn’t have time to react before there was the deafening sound of metal hitting metal, and everything went black.

x.x.x.x.x

It was early morning when the hotel phone started to ring. Roger was sharing a room with John, and groaned at the noise as it roused him from his slumber. His head was pounding and his body ached. He couldn’t remember what had happened earlier in the night or how he had gotten here, but he could remember the conversation. His head seemed to pound even harder at the memory.

The phone started ringing again, and Roger reached over and hit John against his back.

“Would ya’ answer it ‘lready?” he whined, his voice still slurring slightly. John mumbled something that Roger couldn’t make out, but leaned over to the table next to his side of the bed and picked up the phone. Almost immediately John shot up and out of the bed, startling Roger completely awake.

“Is she okay?”

Roger’s eyes snapped to his friend and his heart started racing. She who?

“Okay… okay… yes… thank you.” And then John hung up the phone. For a few moments, he just stared at the phone, wide eyed, as if it had just bitten him.

“Who was that?” Roger asked, his voice still hoarse from sleep and dehydration. John’s eyes slowly panned over to him.

“YN was in an accident. She’s in the hospital.”

It was Roger’s turn to jump out of bed, the room instantly tilting and his stomach lurching. He propelled his arms forward to steady himself against the bed as his hungover brain tried to process what was happening.

“Is she okay?” Roger mimicked the question that John had asked the person on the phone just moments before.

“They don’t know. It was pretty bad. They’re taking her into surgery now.”

The nausea he had been feeling before intensified and he quickly ran to the bathroom. He wasn’t sure if it was caused by the mass amount of alcohol or the news, or a culmination of both. He sunk to the bathroom floor, his head in his hands, as tears built behind his eyes. She was hurt and he was over 3,000 miles away. She needed him and he wasn’t there. Roger had never felt worse.

After several moments of sitting on the bathroom floor, wallowing in his own sadness, Roger finally pulled himself up and made his way back into the other room. John was pacing the floor, hand over his mouth, mumbling quietly to himself. Knowing that he couldn’t sit in the hotel room any longer, Roger walked over to his suitcase and started throwing all his things inside of it.

“Where are you going?” Deacy asked as he stopped pacing and turned to his friend.

“The airport. She needs me.”

His brain was still lagging slightly, but the more he thought about it, the clearer his thoughts became. He had to go back to London. No concert was more important than she was. Deacy didn’t protest or try and stop him, because he knew there would be no point. He would let Brian and Freddie know, and they would deal with their show that night in the best way possible. He would have even gone with him, but he knew that this was a trip that he needed to make on his own.

“Good luck, mate. Let her know that we’re thinking of her when you see her.”

Roger gave him a curt nod, and walked over to call for a cab. Surprisingly, even at 4 in the morning, it didn’t take long for his ride to arrive and then he was gone. He could only hope that he could get a flight back quickly.

x.x.x.x.x

It was quiet except for the sound of a faint beeping. You groaned as you tried to roll over away from the light that was shining in your eyes, but you felt a tug on the inside of your arm that prevented you from moving. Slowly, you opened your eyes and at first your eyes couldn’t focus. You could make out faint shapes, but it didn’t take you long to realize that you weren’t at home. The scene started to become a little clearer the more you blinked, and finally you could make out that you were in a hospital room. What happened?

Your eyes flickered down to where the tugging had come from and you could see an I.V. sticking out of your arm. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion as you tried to remember what happened. A sharp pain filled your right side and when you looked over, you couldn’t stop the gasp that fell from your lips. The skin of your arm was a mixture of dark purple and reds and it was carefully propped up on a pillow. You tried to move it, but let out a whimper at the pain that shot through it.

“Try not to move too much, sweetheart.”

Your heart jumped at the sound of his voice, and slowly your eyes fell on him. He was sitting in a chair on the right side of the bed up near your head. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked beyond exhausted. His blond hair was a mess, looking as if he had run his hands through it repeatedly, pushing it all in different directions.

“Roger? What are you doing here?” You winced again at the pain that spread through your chest when you spoke. His eyes filled with worry as he watched you struggle.

“As soon as I heard you were in an accident, I got on the first plane that I could.”

An accident? The memory slowly started to come back to you. The rain. The stop sign. The headlights.

“What about the band?”

Roger shook his head, and you watched as his hand hesitated over yours. He wanted to touch you, to hold your hand and provide some form of comfort, but he didn’t want to hurt you.

“The band will be fine without me for a couple of days. This was more important.”

Your heart swelled. He was here, now, with you and even though you were in excruciating pain, you couldn’t help but smile. Roger gave you a small smile in return, and leaned over the railings of the bed next to your head. He gently brushed the hair away from your forehead and pressed a small kiss against it.

“You gave us all quite a scare, love. Freddie, Brian and John send their love.”

He didn’t move to sit down, but instead continued to push little hairs away from your face and traced the skin along your jawline. You sighed into the touch and closed your eyes.

“I’m really sorry, Roger.” You whispered. You could feel the pain medication kicking in again and you started to drift out of consciousness.

“Shh… don’t worry about that right now. Just get some rest.”

You nodded, and within seconds you were asleep again with thoughts of the blond drummer running through your mind.

letmeletmetrashyourlove:

Ben!Roger 

Author’s Note: Another part? Maybe? Probably? If you like it? 

---

I groaned to myself as I flung the pillow that was once over my head across my bedroom and against the wall I shared with my neighbor. He seemed to have no regard for the fact that other people lived in this apartment building and was up at all hours on his drum set.

It was 4:30 am, and I had to be up in three hours to go to work. It was the last straw. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and rested my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands. Another groan escaped my lips as I stood up, wrapping my blanket around my shoulders. I yanked my front door open and stomped over next door. My other neighbor, Charlotte, was on the same page. She’s a 97-year-old woman who invited me in for dinner every once in a while. One of the sweetest women I had ever met, yet she had fire in her eyes as she stepped out into the hallway.

      “I got it, Charlotte,” I told her, shooing her back into her apartment.

She muttered something to herself about an entitled asshole before slamming her door shut.

I pounded on the door with both fists, but it was to no avail.

     

“Hey! Asshole! Hey! Open the fucking door!” I screamed, continuing to hit the door.

Nothing.

     

“I swear to fucking god,” I muttered to myself before taking the bold move to reach for the handle on the door. To my surprise, it was unlocked. I swung the door open hard enough for the handle to hit the door behind it. The culprit was sitting behind his drum kit, a cigarette hanging from his lips with several empty beer bottles on the surrounding floor. Despite the fact that I had just broken into his apartment, he was still playing.

Since shouting hadn’t worked before, I reached for the light switch, turning it off an on a couple times.

     

“What the bloody hell!?” He exclaimed as his gaze finally met mine.

     

“You’re asking me that?” I hollered, “It’s 4 in the fucking morning, mate! What the fuck are you doing?”

     

“Is it?” He asked himself, glancing at the clock, “Christ, sorry. Must’ve lost track of time.”

     

“Our neighbor is 97 fucking years old, you’re gonna give her a heart attack and I’ve got to be up in 3 fucking hours so I’d appreciate it if you quit until then,” I growled, grabbing the door and slamming it behind me as I stepped out into the hallway.

I trudged back into bed, falling asleep once more as soon as I hit the mattress. I awoke again at 7:30 to the sound of my alarm clock. I swung wildly at my nightstand until I hit the snooze button. 8:30 rolled around, the sound of drums now continuing in the apartment next door. I silently thanked my noisy neighbor, if he hadn’t started playing again, I would’ve been late for work. I cursed to myself as I sprung out of bed and fumbled trying to get on the dress I had draped over my chair the night before. I slipped on my boots and staggered towards my front door, nearly tripping over the cup that was sitting on my doormat. I squinted, leaning down to pick it up along with a note scribbled on a paper napkin that was tucked under it.

     

“Sorry for last night. Maybe this will wake you up. -Roger”

It was from the cafe across the road from the apartment complex. They marked the cup as a coffee with one cream and two sugars. Not exactly the way I would normally take it, but I scooped it up anyway, taking a sip as I scrambled to the elevator. I recoiled after taking a sip, finding it was cold. He must’ve put it there a while ago.

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borhap-babies:

A/N: hey sweet babies, im baaaaack with a little ben!rog fic full of all the angst xo love you, my babies ❤

so yeah, I just finished writing this and I kinda hate it, im so sorry eek

~

“So, how often do you come here?” The brunette man shouted over the sound of Smile playing onstage.

“Oh, every weekend, almost.” You replied, trying to be polite but secretly hoping this man would just leave you alone.

“You’re not one of those groupies for the band, are you?” The man laughed, but the comment stung.

“No.” You replied flatly, glaring up at him. His face fell, realising he had offended you, and he became a blubbering mess trying to cover his tracks.

“I’m so- look, I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear-”

“It’s fine.” You huff, directing your attention back to your boyfriend and his three best friends performing a cover of one of their favourite songs, much to the crowd’s delight.

“Let me buy you a drink to make up for it.”

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