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blondecarfucker · 5 years

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Bed of Roses (Last Chapter - 21)

Roger Taylor x Reader

BoRhap!Roger Taylor x Reader

Fic Summary: It's 1971. You just moved to London to study, and you find a band on a local pub after a bad date. The encounter doesn’t go the way you expect it, and neither does what follows this evening as you try to deal with loving Roger Taylor.

Fic Note: So I’ve had this story in my head for the last three weeks and finally decided to write it down. It’s completely planned. It will have 21 chapters and it’s divided in three acts: Dusk, Night and Dawn. It’s will be a bit angsty in the future, and it will most likely have some smut as well. I hope you guys enjoy it! Tell me what you think about it in the asks/comments/messages. If this is your first time stumbling upon Bed of Roses, thank you for stopping by! The rest of the story is in my masterlist, the link is in my bio - can't put the link here or else the post will disappear from the tags.

Chapter's notes: THE LAST CHAPTER. I CANT FUCKING BELIEVE. i feel like before i start my thank yous i could give you some weird trivia on the story. i wrote the entire outline for the fic at a weekend shift at work, where i always have free time. i had some smaller ideas - them meeting at a bar and not seeing again, the whole kensingon-taxi-class thing from the beginning - but there was a sudden burst of inspiration and in like twenty minutes the outline was done, and very little has changed, i mostly just added some more details. also, i imagine the reader as alicia silverstone in the 90s?? idk. i just do. also, the reader thing with new york comes from the fact that i lived there for a while and i miss it so much, so thats why theres so much detail about places and stuff - its my form of revisiting my favourite spots there. also, will (REMEMBER WHEN) was written with sebastian stan in mind, and liv tyler (in her lord of the rings days) was poppy. i did too much research for this fic on queen history, and everytime i had to change something (especially in the first act) so the dates made more sense, it KILLED ME.

anyway, now the thank yous: SHIT THIS FIC IS SUCH AN IMPORTANT CHAPTER ON MY LIFE. its my first time writing such a long story without abandoning it, and my first time writing fiction in english, so i learned so much!! i was doing some research the other day, and the great gatsby is like 47k words long, and the first harry potter is around 70k words long - bed of roses is around 60k words long. this is crazy.

it's also my first story to get this many readers interacting with me, and i'm so grateful for you all!! i thought about thanking you all by name, but i dont want anyone to feel left out so i just want every and each one of you reading these words to know: if you read my story, thank you. thank you for giving me your time of the day, thank you for connecting with what i wrote, thank you for telling me in any way possible that you've enjoyed it. thank you. a writer must write, but theres not a lot of joy in talking to an empty room. you filled my small room with warmth and love and there's not enough words to express my gratitude for you all. thank you.

about my writing: i plan on FINALLY DOING THE MANY REQUESTS I HAVE IGNORED OVER THIS FINAL ACT OF BED OF ROSES - requests are still open, too! i'm also outlining a smaller roger x reader fic where she's one of the videographers on the news of the world documentary, so keep an eye out for that! i'm gonna open a permanent taglist for the requests (and eventual new fic), so if you want to be added, hit me up in the ask box/comments/inbox!

anyway i'll finally wrap up this chapter's note cause you have the final chapter to read. enjoy my loves

Words: nearly 4k

Warnings: none??? part of their dialogue is inspired by some of my favourite movies and books like her and the wife and almost famous and before sunrise and the fault in our stars and eternal sunshine of the spotless mind and maybe more I DONT KNOW ITS BEEN AN EMOTIONAL RIDE OK I CANT EVEN REMEMBER WHERE DID I PULL THIS FROM EXACTLY. some errors too cause i didnt revise it completely my bad im crying ok

ACT 3 - DAWN

"It's the moment night time seems weaker and everything seems easier to figure out"

Chapter 21

Roger lit a cigarette in the train cabin, and tried to open the top window, the one you can usually pull open.

"Rog, it's not gonna open, you know", you told him as you watched him fiddling with the glass.

"I guess you're right. Hope you won't be bothered by the smoke", he said, taking a puff.

"I won't if you share it with me", you answered, and with a half smile on his lips, Roger lifted the cigarette to your lips, and you breathed in the smoke while looking at him through your lashes.

"Don't look at me like that. Especially if the cigarette smoke is going to leave the cabin sultry and hot", he told you, and you laughed.

"Yeah, and we won't do anything about it", you said, trying to make yourself more comfortable in your seat.

"And why is that?", he asked, batting his lashes innocently at you, you you lightly elbowed his ribs.

"We need to do something else, something we've been ignoring the whole trip", you said, and he raised his brow. "We need to talk about us", you told him, and he breathed out, smoke coming out of his nose.

"I guess you're right again", he said, then slid a bit down on his seat.

You didn't think much about talking about your future with Roger while in Paris, so now has to be the time, on a train that will take you to London and to a whole month of Roger being away, promoting News Of The World.

While in Paris, you never talked to Roger about the future, and talks of the past where subtle - you talked about how you felt with the development Doctor Who took over the years, but didn't think much about the fact that you were separate during years of the show.

You enjoyed the city, but most of all, you enjoyed each other's presence, not only going to museums, churches and castles around you, following them up with fancy dinners and walks along the Seine, but you also spent time inside the room, in your pajamas, ordering take out from restaurants you found on the phone book, having a hard time trying to speak french as Roger tickled the sole of your feet and kept trying to distract you.

You would always remember the peace you felt as you ate cheap chinese food on Roger's shirt on the balcony at night, the Eiffel Tower shining over your meal and Roger's electric blue eyes as he hummed early David Bowie's songs under his breath, or how at home you felt sitting on the couch, Roger on the floor with his head on your lap, his soft strands on your fingers as you tried to braid them while watching re-runs of I Dream of Jenie, Roger focused, trying to understand the french dubbing until he noticed what you were doing.

"Babe, are you trying to braid my hair? Think I'd look better if I'd look more girly?", he said, moving his head back so he can look at you.

"Yeah. Always thought so, but I'll have to keep imagining, since your hair is too short to braid", you pouted, and he laughed.

"Don't you like my new hair, then?", he asked, pouting back, and you moved your head to his level so you could press a quick kiss to his lips.

"I love it, Rog. Especially cause since it's shorter, it looks even messier after I pull it", you said, and he smirked. "My favourite look of yours is when you're all dishevelled after sex", you winked, teasing him.

"That's my favourite, too", he said, turning completely around and pulling you in for a kiss, his hand on the back of your neck.

But now, while in the smoke filled train cabin, you needed to make a few things clear.

"I've been avoiding this for a reason", he said, looking out the window, and you raised your brow, waiting for him to explain. "I have this weird, innate fear of you telling me it's all good but you don't want to see me again, or something", he said, and you gave him a half smile.

"I don't want to do this, Rog. And I won't do it", you told him, and he sighed in relief.

"Even though loving you is a bit complicated, I'll admit. Especially if you're me", you shrugged, and he turned to you, confused.

"Let me explain. I loved your idea for a bed of roses, a few days ago, cause it can exemplify our relationship so well. The roses feel so good against the skin, the smell is so intoxicating, it looks so beautiful - maybe too beautiful, ethereal, even. But then there's always a few thorns here and there, and they hurt so much when they lodge themselves on my skin, but I'm so intoxicated by the whole experience that I don't mind - I convince myself that it's nothing, and even that it's already part of me already, cause the thorns fit so perfectly on me, on my little stabs made by myself, by my own insecurities", you say, and he stares at you.

"What I'm trying to say is that every minute that I'm with you always distract me from the issues that come with being with you - the fact that there's a few expectations that come with being your serious girlfriend, be them always travelling with you while we're young, or eventually staying home once we have kids, knowing that you'll eventually cheat on me with a younger version of myself, while I'm too tired of taking care of the babies to even think about my sexual needs", you said, and you watched him frown.

"I'm not sure where you're going with this-", he started saying, but you cut him off.

"Let me finish, I promise it will get better", you said, fixing your posture as you start again. "But the thing is, I love you. I always have, ever since I started talking to you, you always trying to outflirt me, always seeing me as your equal. You desire me, but you also listen and see me as another human being, you never back down or ignore me if I challenge one of your beliefs, and you never treat me as a trophy-wife-to-be", you say, and you can feel your eyes fill with tears, but you're smiling. That's what you always loved about Roger. He smiled back at you.

"And because I love you, I don't want to deny myself the pleasure of being with you. I'd rather be in a bed of roses than in an empty bed - or worse, a blank bed, someone being there just so it's less cold at night. I want to be with you, Rog", you say, and he pulls you in for a hug, and you hold him back for a few moments before pulling away and looking at him in the eye.

"But also because I love you and I want to be with you, Rog, I don't want us to try to fit into this type of relationship I just mentioned. I don't want you to make me the other woman, either, when you eventually find someone so you can settle down, if it's not me" you said, rubbing your nose. "I guess I want to settle down with you, eventually, as we planned before, but this whole thing - living together and cheating if we're away for too long - it kills me, and I think it kills you, too. I respect you too much to want to cheat on you again, cause if I ever do and you never find out, I'll lose respect for you, and the same thing will happen if you cheat on me and I don't find out. And these are ugly truths, but this isn't our first time together; we know each other, we need to think about this", you told him, and he nodded.

"And I need to make it clear that I'll never be a simple rockstar housewife - I'll never be able to quit my job and look out for the kids while you travel the world and I make them lunch. I'll never be able to sit down on a dinner table on some award show with you and when someone asks me what I'll do, I'll smile as I say I'm a king-maker. I'm not", you said, firmly.

"And I'll never be satisfied with dumb spa and shopping trips as you do the actual work when we travel. If I have to live this life, I'll resent you, and I don't want that. I like being domestic with you, but this type of forced domesticity will poison us again - we're both too wild, too career-focused, for this. We've always been similar", you said, and he gave you a smile as you sighed. "I guess that's all I have to say", you shrugged, and he laughed. "Not much, right?", he said, running his fingers on his hair, pulling the strands back.

"Guess it's my turn now", he said, and you nodded, encouraging him. "When I saw you again, at the pub, there was so much that I wanted to say. I mostly wanted to apologize - it got lost as I got infatuated with you again, and tried to get you in bed - you know, usual stuff", he winked, and you laughed.

"But yeah, I kept looking at you while you updated me on your life, your skin glooming under the stars and the moonlight, and I couldn't stop thinking about all the things I wanted to apologize to you for. All the pain we caused each other. Everything I put on you. Everything I needed you to be or needed you to say. Cause no matter what - even if you had decided on never seeing me again after all this - I'll always love you, because we grew up together. And you helped make me who I am", he said, moving strands of your hair behind your ear.

"I just want you to know that there will always be a piece of you in me, always. Whatever someone you become, wherever you are in the world, however this" he said, pointing his finger to the two of us "works out, in whatever form it might take", he said, sighing "I'll always send you love. Before being anything else to me - and I hope to God you're always something more - you'll always be my friend, to the end", he told you, and the tears were already streaming down your cheeks. His cheeks soon mirrored yours.

"And now, after you so eloquently told me all your fears about our future, I need you to know something else, too", he said, as you wiped the tears under your eyes. "I always loved you for being the way you are. You always challenge me, you always make me work harder, try harder, to be better. And it's not even something you force me to do; I just follow your lead. The way you look was what first got into me, I won't lie, but the way you are is what made me stay. It's what will always make me stay", he said, a genuine smile on his lips. He made you feel warm, like the sun.

"You're the smartest person I know, you're funny, you enjoy sex, you're unapologetic, you're proud of who you are, even proud of your insecurities. And you have such a huge importance in my life: you made me who I am. Whatever way you want to make us work, I trust you. I just want to be with you, in whatever form it takes", he said, smiling, and then getting up and opening his bag.

"I forgot to give you something", he said, pulling a string out of the front pocket. You recognized the red glimmer. It was the heart necklace. "It's still yours to keep. Even though it's not in its original glory, it will always be yours. The necklace and my heart", he said, and you couldn't help but smile at him.

"Always so cheesy, Taylor", you said, joking as you moved your hair to the side so he could put the necklace on.

"You always loved it", he winked, and you laughed. "I do", you said, smiling.

"So, what does it all mean? Where are we?", you asked, and he shrugged. "Wherever you want us to be. I just hope that you keep me around", he told you sincerely.

"I will. So, we're not going back to our old ways, right? We're not back at sharing a flat and stuff", you said, and he nodded. "Sure".

"And you're going to spend a month away, all around the world. I don't want you to feel pressured not to cheat", you said, and he nodded again.

"Yeah, and you're back in London, starting a new job. I don't want you to be worried, too", he said.

"So, maybe no exclusivity, this time? At least not now. This is still debatable, in the future", you said, and he agreed.

"Makes sense. But I'll have a hard time desiring anyone but you", Roger said in a low voice, and you laughed to break any mood that might have settled. You needed to get things clear before making out in the train cabin.

"Me too, Rog. But I don't want to create any expectations of loyalty because we know each other too well, and I don't want a stupid fight to break this thing we're building together", you said.

"It's a good idea. So, no titles, too? I can't call you my girlfriend?", he said, and you laughed.

"You can, if you want to", you told him, and he pulled you closer to him.

"Good, cause I want to call you that on the News of the World launch party, that I'm hoping you'll go as my date", he said, pressing a kiss on top of your head, breathing in your fruity smell.

"Of course I'll go. I need to see the boys again", you told him, and he laughed.

"So you're not going for me, then?", he pouted, and you laughed again.

"No, I'm just going so I can meet Deacy's kid", you told him, and it was his turn to laugh.

Once you got to London, Roger offered to go to the airport alone - he had to get on his flight, and he was late. He knew you had to go home and get ready for work tomorrow, but you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

He looked relieved when you got on a cab with him to Heathrow.

"Big day tomorrow, huh", he said, rubbing your arm.

"Yeah, I still can't believe I'm finally going to work at the British Museum. It's so surreal, it feels like a dream. Like I'm living someone else's life", you said, looking out at the window, the early sunday morning reminding you of fresh starts - you were in the middle of one.

"Well, it's your life, and it's your job, cause you deserve it, babe. I never met someone who worked so hard to get where they want", Roger said, smiling, proud.

"I did. You and the boys", you said, and he huffed. "Guess you're right. Me and that pack of idiots, we turned out okay", he joked.

Once you got to the airport, you followed him to his gate.

You were feeling nervous - you had him for a week, and now it's time to say goodbye again.

You're both aware that the rest of the band is already waiting impatiently in the jet, but you can't help it - you hug him, dropping your luggage on the floor, and he does the same, the hug soon turning into a kiss as you rub your hands on each other's body, as if you're trying to remember how every inch of the other feels like, as if you're both about to disappear.

But the airport worker clears her throat, and you break the kiss, looking at each other longingly.

"Don't say goodbye", you beg Roger, putting your hand on his lips as he opens his mouth.

"See you soon", he says between your fingers. You smile at him, grateful he found a way with words so you're not repeating the same old goodbyes.

"See you soon, Roger", you say, hugging him again for a few seconds, just trying to capture every detail - his smell, the feeling of his arms around you, his body against yours.

And once he has to go into the jet, you go to the glass wall, and you can swear you see some familiar faces from the windows of the jet.

But before you can focus, soon Roger's well known face takes over the window you're watching, and he puts a hand on the glass.

You can't help but think about the last time you did that with him, him being on your place as you were inside the plane, moving to another country, your heart weighing down on you, filled with doubts.

But now your heart warmed you up, filled with joy and love, and you could feel Roger's crystal heart on top of your chest. He was right. There would be always a piece of him on you, too.

Epilogue: News of the World Launch Party

"Y/N! You're back!" Brian's voice welcomed you to the ballroom.

You squeezed Roger's hand - it was the first time you saw the band in years, and you couldn't help but feel a bit nervous about it.

"Darling, you're really back! We thought Roger was getting high too often and hallucinated a week in Paris with you. But I guess you did come back to him", Freddie said, hugging you by the side as he held a glass of champagne on his other hand.

"I'm back with him only so I can see you all again, of course", you said, winking at Roger as he pretended to be offended.

But then you heard Deacy and Veronica scream your name in unison, and you turned to see them.

"So you're really back!!" Deacy said, but your eyes were on the baby boy on his lap.

"This is the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life.", you said, trying to get his attention. Roger looked at you, adoringly, as you moved your eyes to Veronica.

"Ronnie!! You're so big!" you said, trying to hug her through her belly. "It's coming out in a few months! It's a boy, Michael. Someone our young Rob can play with", she said, and Roger frowned.

"I could swear it was a girl", he said, and John smiled. "Maybe next time", he said.

"Hey, Bob. Do you want to play with me? C'mon", you said, and he motioned to go to your arms. You picked him up as he started playing with your hair.

"You'd be a good mom, Y/N", Veronica said, and you got tense. "God, Ronnie, don't even joke about this", you said, and Roger chuckled. "It's a sensitive topic at the moment", he explained.

"The moment will take quite some time, you know", you told him, the youngest Deacon pulling your earring before playing with the crystal heart on your neck.

You talked to the boys and Veronica for a while, updating each other, but no one brought up how you and Roger got back together. It just felt natural - no need to question.

You stayed with Roger for the whole night - behind the cameras as he did press, by his side during dinner - where he was back at his old ways, teasing you lightly with his hand under the table. You felt good in his arms, getting back into his life.

He was interested in getting back into your life, too. He came back to London last night, and went straight to dinner with you. You were trying different food, and now was time to try Indian food.

As he ate his Chicken Tikka Masala, dipping the naan in the sauce, you invited him for a party your bosses would be throwing next month to celebrate a new exhibit.

He gave you a bright smile. "I'd love to be your date, my love", he said.

And after the Deacons went home - Robert was asleep on his father's lap - the party got louder, the dance floor more full. You could swear you saw an angular face that could only belong to Bowie pick someone to dance - was this Princess Leia? - but before you could process the whole situation, Roger pulled you to dance.

"Thought you didn't dance, Mr Taylor", you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you tried to slow dance to All The Young Dudes, by Mott The Hoople.

"I don't dance very well, indeed. But it's just an excuse to be so close to you in public, and God, I'm dying to call you Ms Taylor", he said, and you chuckled.

"Take it slower, Rog", you told him, and he leaned in to rest his head on the curve of your neck. "And why do you want to be close to me in public? Is it still one of your weird fetishes?", you joked, and you felt him laugh against your skin.

"No, it's just that you've been killing me with this dress of yours, and you've been killing a lot of the guys here, too. Could swear I saw Bowie checking you out", he told you, and you gasped.

"Taylor, don't even joke about this. I'd have a heart attack", you said, and he laughed. "You'd leave me here for Bowie, is that it?", he asked, and you laughed.

"Of course not. I just have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he might acknowledge my existence", you said, and it was his turn to laugh. "The only eyes I really like to feel on me when I look away are yours, Rog", you said, and he gave you a quick kiss.

"Okay, had enough of trying to dance. Let's get some fresh air", he told you, and you followed him to the balcony.

As the cold, fresh air brushed against your exposed skin, you heard the first notes to Tiny Dancer, by Elton John. You walked to the balcony, leaning in and taking in the view of London at night.

Roger soon took you into his arms, hugging you from behind, and you felt safe, his body heart making you warm in the cold evening as he jokingly whispered "Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man" into your ear, and you scoffed. "Slower, Taylor", you told him, and he laughed.

"However you want it, babe", he said, now paying attention to the view, focusing on the feeling on you in his arms again. Finally.

But oh how it feels so real

Lying here with no one near

Only you and you can hear me

When I say softly, slowly

"I could die right now, Y/N. I'm just... happy. I've never felt this type of happiness before. I'm just exactly where I want to be", Roger said in his husky voice, and you nodded lightly in agreement.

Because in Roger's arms, you feel home. You feel what you hoped to feel for years - what got you to move to London in the first place. You feel like you belong.

---

1988 Special

Taglist:

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