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valhallamercury · 5 years

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angel eyes | boh rhap!roger taylor x female!reader

Summary: A few months after the reader ends a rocky relationship with her old boyfriend, she and Roger grow closer. However, she’s afraid of getting heartbroken again so she distances herself from Roger. A/N: The lovely @yourealegendfred has allowed me to participate in their 3k challenge! <3 I chose the song Angel Eyes by Abba, I hope you all enjoy! Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating, language, happy ending Word count: 1,914 words

“Deaky, I’m telling you, I cannot fall for Roger Taylor.” You told the brown haired man. You and John had been friends for years, and you had always told each other everything. You were the first to know of his plans to marry Veronica, you were the first to know new riffs for new songs, and you were the first to know about any anger or frustrations he felt about the band. He was the first to know about your nasty breakup with Arthur, he was the first to know about your blossoming feelings towards Roger, and he was the first to know about your fears of falling in love with him.

“Y/N, you can’t be scared of love forever. Besides, distancing yourself from Roger doesn’t solve anything either.” John claimed, crossing his arms over his chest. He sat across from you at your coffee table, his brow raised and a look that said “I dare you to counteract me” plastered across his face.

“After everything with Arthur,” You began, your heart hurting at the mention of the man’s name.

“What Arthur did was awful,” Deaky interrupted, staring you down attentively. “But Roger would never meaningfully hurt you. And if he did, you know I’d kick his arse before he could even spell ‘hurt.’“

You smiled, typical John humor. “Alright, Deaky, I’ll think about it.” You decided, wanting to change the subject for good.

“I’m serious, Y/N.” Deaky said sternly as he looked at you. “Roger misses you. He won’t admit it, but he does. He doesn’t know what he did wrong.”

“John, I promise I’ll talk to him soon. Okay?” You sighed, rubbing your temples between your fingers. “I just need some time to work things out. Just some time.” You mumbled. You heard John get up, and footsteps come near you.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you sighed, leaning into his chest. Deaky’s hugs always made you feel better.

“You’ll figure it out.” Deaky promised. You could only hope that he was right.

A few weeks later, and you had still not seen Roger. Deaky pestered you for days at a time, but your only remaining excuse was that you still needed time. That excuse itself was weak, but it worked. Somewhat.

You placed the record on it’s spot on the record player, lowering the needle down as music filled your small apartment. You hummed along to ABBA, dancing around your home in your over-sized Jaws shirt and fluffy bright blue socks. The rain poured outside, making a tap tap tap sound against the windows of your apartment.

You slid across the living room floor, plopping down on to the ugly mustard yellow couch that haunted your home. You propped your legs up against a pillow, leaning back and closing your eyes. Millions of thoughts swarmed your head, but each ended with either Arthur or Roger.

Last night I was taking a walk along the river And I saw him together with a young girl And the look that he gave her made me shiver Because he always used to look at me that way And I thought maybe I should walk right up to her and say "Ah-ha-ha, it's a game he likes to play"

You remembered the day you had caught Arthur in your bed with another woman. Not just another woman, it had been a close friend and co-worker, Angela. You remembered the feeling of horror and disgust in the pit of your stomach, which resembled the look of horror on their faces. You could clearly remember the way Arthur had tried to explain himself, and the way you had practically screamed at him to get out of your house and your life.

Look into his angel eyes One look and you're hypnotized He'll take your heart and you must pay the price Look into his angel eyes You'll think you're in paradise And one day you'll find out he wears a disguise Don't look too deep into those angel eyes Oh no, no, no, no

You remember cursing him once he had left. The way the words left your throat in a painful manner as the tears ran down your cheeks was something you could never forget. You remember calling John, and the way he had held you while you cried into his lap. You remember him telling you to come to the studio with him the next day, that it would make you feel better.

Sometimes when I'm lonely I sit and think about him And it hurts to remember all the good times When I thought I could never live without him And I wonder does it have to be the same? Every time when I see him, will it bring back all the pain? Ah-ha-ha, how can I forget that name?

You remember coming to the studio the day afterwords, still feeling awful. You had sat in one of the big, cozy chairs in the corner. There, you had met Roger. He had tried flirting with you, but could soon tell that something was wrong. He asked you about life and how you had been doing and “why you looked so blue”, according to him. The rest of the boys were out in the recording room, and you felt overwhelmed by emotions. You spilled your heart out to him, tears falling from your cheeks as you tried to pull yourself together. You would never forget the way he wrapped his arms around you and told you that everything was going to be okay.

From that day forward, Roger had treated you with warmth and kindness. He brought you tea some days, freshly picked flowers on others. He always saved you a seat on days you came to the studio. He always tried to keep you in good spirits, rather it be jokes or mocking Deaky’s dancing or even actually dancing with you. It was almost impossible not to fall in love with him. But you knew better. You knew better than to get caught up in someone like Roger Taylor, or risk getting your heart broken yet again.

So that’s why you had grown distant from Roger. You couldn’t risk it. At least, that’s what you had to keep telling yourself.

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts, making you jump from the couch. Once you had calmed yourself, you slid over to the door. You opened it slowly, gasping at the sight of a soaking wet Roger.

“Rog, what in the bloody hell do you think you’re doing? You’re soaking wet!” You scolded as you looked at the blonde man in concern. Roger took a deep breath as he looked at you, chewing on his bottom lip.

“I needed to see you.” He said simply, cocking his head to the side like a puppy would. “I hadn’t seen you in so long and I was just...” He paused, looking down at his shoes and looking back up to you. “I was worried that something had happened.”

You let out a shaky breath, opening up the door a little further so he could get through. “Come in, before you catch a cold.” You mumbled, watching as Roger stumbled into your apartment and you closed the door behind him.

“I’ll get you some towels, okay?” You said softly, heading towards your bathroom. You could hear Roger following you as you walked, you could feel the anxiety well up in your throat of what you were going to say to him.

You walked into the bathroom, pulling some towels off the shelf and handing them to him. Roger took the towel gratefully, rubbing his hair and body to dry off. He set the towel down, before looking at you intently. He had pretty eyes, you thought to yourself.

“Well?” He asked, raising a brow as he looked down at you. You furrowed your brows, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What do you mean, well?” You asked, shifting your weight on each foot. He gave you an annoyed look, mimicking your crossed arms.

“Don’t bullshit me, L/N. Don’t do it. Why the hell have you been so distant lately? I’ve been worried sick. You don’t answer any of my calls, you don’t come to practices anymore, God, I’ve been so fucking worried.” Roger hissed.

You stared at him with wide eyes before glancing down at your fuzzy socks. You felt your thoughts begin to run at a million miles a minute.

“Rog, it’s nothing.”

“I told you not to bullshit me!”

You look up at him finally, your eyes watering. His expression dropped, concern washing over his face. He reached his hand up, cupping your face with his calloused hand.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Did Arthur do something?” He asked, tracing your cheek with his finger. You could feel the tears brimming along your lashes, dropping down to your cheeks and traveling down the rest of your face like a river.

“Yes, Arthur did something. He cheated on me, he made me terrified of getting my heart broken, he made me terrified of falling in love again,” You began, the tears flowing down harder and your throat tightening up. “That’s why I’ve been distant, Roger. Because I’m terrified, I’m absolutely shitfaced terrified of falling in love with you.” You looked down at your socks again, a sob escaping your throat.

Roger’s big arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him. He stroked your hair, humming softly to try and calm you down. His fingers drummed against your back, a soft rhythm that made your river of tears slow, until completely stopping.

“Y/N, listen to me,” He whispered softly, resting his chin on top of your head. “You don’t have to be scared. You don’t. I would never, ever hurt you like he did. I know, my reputation is awful and I know that makes you even more nervous. But God, ever since I’ve met you, I haven’t been able to even think about other women. You’re the only person who ever comes to mind when I think about romance. I know you’re scared, and it’s understandable. But you don’t have to be scared anymore.”

You finally looked up to him again, your heart racing. You stared into his baby blue eyes, getting lost in them as you had many times before.

“I don’t want to be scared anymore.” You whispered, his hand coming up once more to cup your cheek. You nuzzled your cheek against his hand, feeling the butterflies rise in your stomach.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly, his eyes glancing between your lips and your eyes. You looked up at him, seeing the desperation and longing in his eyes. You nodded slowly, the butterflies rising once again to flutter across your stomach.

He reached down, closing the gap between the two of you. His lips molded against yours, perfectly fitting against yours in every way. The kiss was magical, with months of longing and lusting entrapped in a single kiss. He slowly pulled away, grinning foolishly down at you. You smiled back at him fondly, resting your forehead against his chest.

“Hey Rog?”

“Yeah Y/N?”

“Your shirt is still soaking wet.”

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etherealperrie · 5 years

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Recollection, Longing

- Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor in which reader reminisces on her relationship with Roger and despite what she tries to tell herself, realizes there’s still nothing she wants more than him. Inspired by “All I Want” by Kodaline -

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Italics indicate a flashback sequence. This fic is part of @yourealegendfred (my newest, chillest mutual)’s song fic challenge & I hope y’all like it (sorry in advance for the angst & emotions lol). I also recommend you listen to the song while reading just for added drama.

“Don’t go,” you whisper, lowering your voice in an attempt to hide the tears you’re choking back.

“I have to.”

“I know, but you don’t have to leave me, too.”

“I’ll see you when the tour’s over,” he says, picking up his duffle and swinging it over his shoulder. He bends down to kiss your forehead, but it’s just for show.

“Not if you walk away.”

Deep down you knew this was the end. A relationship breaking under the stress of Roger’s career, of his inability to keep roots; to keep himself tied down to you and the home you’ve built.

“Don’t do this,” he sighs, rubbing his temple with his free hand.

“Stop pretending Roger, if you want to go then go.”

Watching him leave is gut-wrenching, it feels as though a brick sits on your chest and you’re no longer able to breathe as tears pour down your cheeks. As he reaches for the door handle, he turns back to look at you, his icy blue eyes red with tears. You know it won’t be easy for either of you, but at least he had the band and the fans. What did you have? Yourself and your home, overflowing with memories of a now soured relationship.

You brush your fingers over the photo you’ve taken off the wall, one of you and Roger at Ridge Farm years ago when things were good. His eyes are a brilliant shade of blue against the denim blouse he’s wearing. You sigh, remembering the way they used to light up whenever you walked into the room to greet him. The way he’d scrunch them shut tightly with laughter. The sleep that settled in the corners that he’d rub away before cuddling in close to you each morning. Blue eyes you’d never be able to forget. Eyes colored like the spring sky, a stunning pair you wished you could see just one more time.

It’s a color that represented how you’ve felt the past month or so. Blue. Sunken in so deep you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to color yourself something happier.

As you traipse through the apartment tucking photos and knick-knacks of Roger’s out of sight, you come across a note taped to the bedroom wall just above the headboard. You peel it off and hold it close, rereading the words written in Roger’s messy script.

“When I’m away don’t become complacent. I’ll be thinking about you every waking moment and even in my dreams. It’s only two months – I believe that distance makes the heart grow fonder, but I’m not sure I could be any more in love with you. See you soon, I love you, don’t forget. R.”

The note is ages old. You found it sitting on the bathroom counter when you woke the morning he left for tour – the first time he had to leave you. His way with words made it that much easier to fall deeper in love with him. You posted it above the bed and neither of you bothered to move it after, until today. Until it was over. You smile at the note and tuck it into the bedside drawer, chuckling to stop yourself from crying. Love was a word you both tossed around so carelessly. A word you were so sure he meant in the beginning. The way he said it the first time – whispered so softly as he held you – you’d never forget.

“Rog, are you okay?” you ask, cuddling up to him by the fire. You’re lying on the yellow shag carpet of your home, the light from the fireplace casting shadows on his pale skin. He’d been acting weird ever since he got back from the studio – careful and cautious with his words, in complete opposition to his usual off the cusp, boisterous monologues.

“Me? Hm, I’m perfect.” He rolls over onto his side to look at you, reaching out to place a warm rough hand on your cheek.

“Perfect, huh?” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “You just seem quiet.”

Suddenly his arms are wrapped around your middle, pulling you on top of his chest. You laugh as he kisses the top of your head and runs his hands up and down your back, humming lightly as he does so.

“Just like being here with you, is all.” His voice trembles as he speaks but you don’t interrupt him. “You know, everything else in my life is so loud that coming home to you is an escape. I never feel like I have to fill the space with nonsense – I love that I can just be with you.”

You sigh, smiling to yourself, resting your head against his chest close enough to hear his heartbeat. One of your hands is pressed against his chest and the other is cupping his cheek. You feel his hand envelop yours, pressing your hand harder against his skin. He lets out a shaky breath and as you lay on top of him you can feel his heartbeat pumping faster and faster, booming loudly.

“I love you,” he breathes. He says it so quietly that you’re afraid you might have misheard him. His heart continues to thump against his chest until you prop yourself up, both hands on either side of him. You lock eyes with him, taking in his demeanor. He’s looking at you expectantly, but you can tell he’s fragile; he put it out on the line for you. You’ve wanted to say the same three words for months, but never worked up the courage, yet here he was lying beneath you, so much braver than you.

“I love you too, Rog” you reply, your words mumbled as you press your lips against his enthusiastically. His arms twist around you and pull you closer to him, his soft lips working against yours.

He held you so close to his chest you could feel his heartbeat spike when he muttered the words. Three words. You whispered them back. Then the two of you began to shout them, I love you, every chance you had. To each other and to everyone else.

It’s a word that haunts you now. The last three words he said to you before he left. The word love used to make you think of him, sending the butterflies in your stomach into flight, but it doesn’t anymore. It doesn’t make you angry, though – just wistful. How could he leave so easily if he meant what he said?

Mistake. The thing you made when he showed up at your door three weeks after calling it off. At the time you knew you shouldn’t, but part of you hoped he’d come back to you. That maybe, just maybe, sleeping with him again would remind you both of all the good. He stayed after it was over and cuddled you close, until you ruined it with words.

“Why’d you leave me?”

“Because you deserve better,” he replies simply as he strokes your hair.

“Why’d you come back?” you ask, lifting your head from his bare chest to look at him.

“Selfish, I guess. I know you’ll be better off without me but, I-”

“Better off,” you scoff, sitting up and taking the blanket with you to cover your nude chest. “I haven’t been better off since you left.” You’re shouting now. “And I definitely won’t be now! Get out.”

“I love you.”

“Just go.”

It’s a thing you try not to think about anymore, it hurts too much. Thinking too much causes doubt – maybe if you wouldn’t have questioned him he would have stayed. Maybe he’d still be here now. But maybe the whole relationship was a mistake. Still, somehow the highest of highs somehow make up for the lowest of lows.

So now here you are, living a life of uncertainty. Uncertain if you’ll ever be able to move on or if you’ll ever be able to find anything to make you as happy as you were. Life with Roger was never easy, you fought often but so did every other couple you knew. But you loved to intensely and so deeply you never imagined it would end.

You run your fingers through your hair out of frustration as you find yet another photo sitting on your dresser. It wasn’t until things ended that you realized just how much every inch of your home had become a part of Roger as well. You remove the glass and slide the picture out, holding it up to the light streaming in through the bedroom window. It’s a photo of you two in Japan, sitting in a park surrounded by fallen cherry blossoms, you lounging lazily in Roger’s lap. A few nights before the photo was taken, before you left for Tokyo, things blew up.

“Love, I don’t know what you want me to do, we can’t cancel the press tour because my fiancé can’t bloody survive without me!” His tone of voice is rough, his temper getting the best of him. He folds another blouse and sets it in the suitcase but you quickly reach in and take it out, unfolding it.

“I can survive without you Roger, I’ve done it before” you reply hastily, pushing yourself off the bed and crossing your arms. He stops packing and turns to look at you.

“Then what’s the problem, Y/N? Do you want me to quit the fucking band? Leave it all - the boys, the gigs, the money – to be attached at your hip? Without Queen, we wouldn’t have any of this!” He gestures vaguely to the furniture and clothes, all of which he’d upgraded.

“You know I don’t want that.”

“Then what?”

“How come when you have to leave I’m the only one who seems to care? Roger, when you leave it tears me apart even knowing you’re going to come home, even knowing I’ll see you again. But you, you just go – unbothered. Does this mean nothing to you?” You’re shouting to stop yourself from crying.

“Y/N you can’t seriously think this isn’t hard for me?” he huffs, placing a hand under your chin. He lifts your head to look at him, his frown softening. “Leaving you is the hardest thing, even though I know you can survive, even knowing I’m coming home after. I want to be the person to stay with you and have a simple life but that’s not our reality.”

You close the space between you, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

“What if,” he mumbles, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. “What if you come along? When was the last time you were on the road, hm?”

You shrug your shoulders, pulling away from him. He chuckles to himself as he uses his thumb to wipe a tear from your cheek.

“I’m not ready to give up, love,” he sighs into your hair, “so come on let’s pack.”

You look away from the picture, pushing the memory aside. That was the last time he fought for you. After that, you both became complacent neither one willing to sacrifice your work for love. Time, money, and fame got in the way. As you pad across the bedroom and flop down onto the bed, you rip the photo in half, tossing the shreds onto the floor.

There’s not a lot you want now because you’re still so unsure about so much. But one thing you know is that you wish Roger would have done something to keep you this time like he did months ago, in Japan. You’re still blue and although you try to convince yourself that you’re moving forward by shredding photos and putting knick-knacks out of sight, deep down you know that if you could see his face one last time, if he came groveling back, you’d happily oblige. You still want to see him again and not just through the television screen or through the radio. Despite the last time ending with a terrible heartbreak, you still ache to touch him. To gaze into those blue eyes over and over again, not caring if you get lost in them because you’ve got nowhere else to be.

It’s all you want.

#ben hardy!roger taylor #yalf3kchallenge #ben hardy imagine #roger taylor imagine #ben hardy x reader #roger taylor x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #queen #rami malek #joe mazzello #gwilym lee #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #yourealegendfred #etherealperrie #my writings #shannon muses

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queenlover05 · 4 years

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I love this so much and I have to tag heaps of people !

@redspecialty @asphalt-cocktail @incorrectborhapquotes @inthedayswhenlandswerefew @sweet-ladyy @yourealegendfred @queenmercurys @queens-n-roses @queenmylovely @queencursedarchive @brianmay-be @brian-maybe-not @brianprobablywill @brian-absolutely-can @brianandthemays @rogerscupboard @rogah-wrote-gaga @rogahtaylahdrummah @rogahhhhtaylah @joeymozzarello @just-my-sickly-pride @benhardyisdaddy @bennyblueberry @benhardyisdaddyy @gwilymz @gwilsmainhoe @frcmthefires @wewillwriteyou @freddiesaysalright @freddiefreakingmercury @queen-irl-af @queenspur @queenlover05

#freddie #freddie mercury #fat bottomed girls

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killjoysunshine · 4 years

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Appreciation time 🥰

Oof, 2019. What a year. And here I am on New Year's eve writing this post to all of you wonderful people who have accompanied me throughout this chaotic but also kind of exciting 2019. I probably wouldn't have made it without you.

Let's go on a little trip down memory lane. I've officially been on this site for the past two years approximately (6 unofficially) and I've taken small breaks occasionally with the longest time running being the last year and a few months. And it's been a blast. So it's time to thank the people who have contributed to this.

First and foremost, to those of you who make me live with your content, yes I see you in my notifications and every time I do it brings a smile to my face: @antamalak @magnificentmaleficium @katelynjean12 @squirrel666 @hla22 @glowknight @gloedende @theviceprovost

The first half of 2019 (probably as a continuation of late 2018) was mostly dominated by my lovely queenies who've helped me cope with my first year in university, my first uni finals, etc. Your posts kept me hooked on Queen helping me not lose my sanity and I want to thank you for that. Your fics made time go by a little faster as I was waiting for the glue to dry on my projects (and let me tell you it was way too much time). All of your wonderful edits helped me educate myself around one of my all time favourite bands. When it comes to the BoRhap cast, I came to love four (4) dorks and support them on anything they do. Thank you: @yourealegendfred @bensroger @strangeandwonderfulconcepts @redspecialty @xanaphorax @silvver-rose @queens-n-roses @killerqueenmachine @imaginesandideas @deacytits @nonthirsty-queenie @brian-roger-deaky-and-fred

Last but not least, the second half of 2019 has been all about Formula 1 (and all other sorts of feeder series and racing series). I've been accepted in this community in a very warm way and I couldn't even believe it. It all started when I started posting memes about the Belgian GP and then the Italian GP and so on. I got to know about all the other racing series and it couldn't have been better without you guys. I kinda started coming out of my shell because of you and thank you. Thank you for taking me in, for appearing on my feed with all the lovely (dumb) things our favourite drivers do, for making me forget all of my problems by seeing you on my notifications. It really means a lot to me that you have taken me in this journey and it's something profound for me, too. Thank you: @anotherf1fangirl @ilott @v-erstapping @bwoahtastic @charleseclair @racingpointless @justaf1fangirl @blueishrobin @callumilott @formulahigh @albonappetit @riusbius @maxielando @landosfloof @roberttheminiczar @challelerc-supermax @smilingricciardo @riccflair-dripp @marcusarmstrng @max-verstappen-33 @daily-alex-content @bens-hardy @mick--schumacher @verstappit @crashstappen @landosnandos @f1-tears @jurivips @albonologist @racing-or-ping-pong

Thank you, all of you, truly 🖤. I'd love to get to know you guys better, but I'm too shy and mostly awkward to reach out so if you ever feel like it, DM me or drop an ask 🖤. I hope you all have a great 2020!

-Sunshine

#appreciation #sunshine.txt #thank you guys so much #here's to 2020

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local-troubled-writer · 4 years

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Knock Me Out. 1

HELLO HELLO HELLO

This has been a work in progress for a while. I hope you like it. Follow @knock-me-out-story for updates!

OCxOC, a Broadway Hamilton story. Jordan Fisher as Oliver Warner, Ellie Woods as Sophie Hill. 4.9k words. The only warning I have is that there is some swearing and mentions of sex.

@angrylizardjacket// @yourealegendfred, I wrote the thing guys!

My morning alarm comes far too early, but I roll over and shut the buzzing off, sitting up and swinging my legs over the edge of my bed. The New York skyline is still dark outside of the window, only a few lights on in the buildings across the street. My phone buzzes on the table next to me and I pick it up, groaning at the text from my boss. Three cake orders and a cupcake refresh, plus the normal restock.

I tiptoe past my best friend Piper’s room to turn on the coffee maker before jumping into the shower. The air in the apartment seems colder when I get out, but the fact that its 3:30 in the morning in New York during October probably has something to do with it. A cup of coffee was already brewed by the time I was dressed in my work clothes, pulling my damp hair into two braids. I pull a beanie over my head for warmth, tucking my work hat into my backpack and pouring the coffee into a travel mug. I sling my backpack onto my shoulders and quietly exit the apartment, trying my hardest not to wake up Piper who has a “grown-up” job at the local junior high school, teaching math.

The cold of the New York night sails right through my coat, freezing me to the bone and leeching any warmth from the travel mug I have clutched between my hands.

The bakery is only a few blocks, a ten-minute walk if I hustle and with how cold it is outside, I pick up the pace slightly. I slot my key into the door of the bakery once I reach the storefront, switching on the lights and starting the opening routine. The bakery officially opens at 5 but there are a special few that come in before we really open, grabbing coffee and pastries for bosses or for the office break room.

About 15 minutes before we open officially, Jackie, the pediatric nurse who comes in every morning she has an early shift rushes through the door. She rubs her hands together to ward off the chill from outside and orders her usual, a cinnamon nut muffin and a large coffee. I smile at her over the counter as she takes the items, her usual smile looking a little more tired than usual. My boss, Jordan, makes it in around 5:30 and sends me back to the back room to start on the orders for today.

The cakes themselves are nothing I haven’t made a dozen times before so I fall into a mindless routine of mixing and measuring ingredients, pouring them into parchment lined tins and putting them into the ovens. Work is routine until it’s time to decorate the cakes, which is probably my favorite part of the whole baking experience. Piping out lines of frosting, adding decorative flowers and curlicue writing on top, putting on the personal touches that each order has requested. By seven, I’m ready to move onto the cupcakes.

The rest of my shift flies by, a flurry of baking pans and hot ovens and somehow getting a streak of bright red edible glitter on my cheek.

Jordan pokes her head in about 11:30, “Hey Sophie, you can knock off if you want. Kate should be in any minute and you’ve more than restocked for the lunch rush. Go get a nap in.” I shoot her a grateful smile, wiping my hands off on the apron tied around my waist. “DON’T FORGET TO EAT SOMETHING,” she shouts at me through the door and I roll my eyes, smiling and throwing the apron in the bin to be washed. I grab my backpack from under the counter and head back out the door, trading my work hat for my beanie and pulling my coat on before making a hasty exit back to my bed.

If I hurry, I could get at least a two-hour nap in before I have to head to the theater. Piper is long since at her school, so the apartment is quiet once I make it in the door. I shed my hat and coat at the hooks by the door, tossing my backpack just inside the door to my room and make myself a quick lunch of the leftover Thai food from two nights ago, shoveling it in my mouth once my brain gets the message that I haven’t eaten since about 3:30 this morning. Once my dishes are in the sink, I make sure my alarm is set and I crawl under my sheets, pulling them up to my chin and letting sleep take over.

The alarm blares a random song from my Spotify library and I crack my eyes open to absorb the afternoon sun that streams in through the window. I reach over and pat around until I feel my phone and slap it once or twice to turn of the alarm. I sit up and scroll through my notifications, several from Twitter and a few texts. I fire off replies to the texts and get up, rifling through my closet until my hands find the soft black shirt that is my favorite for the theater. A pair of my comfiest black jeans and black chucks complete my theater blacks.

Once I get into the bathroom, I take out the braids from this morning, running my fingers through my hair. The waves are fine for now, but I’ll probably tie my hair up sometime between now and the show. I apply a thin layer of makeup, just enough to cover any acne and the circles under my eyes. I add a little mascara and then I have just enough time to make a large coffee before slipping back into my coat and hat, grabbing my bag and heading back out.

I get on the subway at 181st street heading downtown, headphones firmly in my ears and I let the easy sounds of James Bay lull me into oblivion. I only pay attention to what stop the train was at because I’ve missed my stop because I got wrapped up in music. Once I resurface on the street, I swap James Bay for Machine Gun Kelly’s newest album. My steps eventually line up with the beat and as soon as I round the corner to the Rodgers, the crowd from the lottery is dispersing and I dodge my way through disappointed theatergoers and those few and far between excited people, clutching their winning ticket and grinning. The stage door is still crowded so I take a deep breath and power through, punching in the door code and flashing my ID at the Jimmy, the door guy.

“Hey Sophie, how was the bakery this morning?” Jimmy asks, head poking out of his tiny office.

“It was good, very early, you know.” I shrug and yawn.

“One of these days, they’re going to have to pay you enough so you can quit that job.” I snort and let out a laugh.

“That’ll be the day Jimmy. I gotta get to work, see you later?” He nods and send me on my way, a kind smile on his face. I deposit my backpack in the designated stage crew room, slipping my hat and coat off and putting them next to my backpack in my cubby. I slip my grey Hamilton zip up on and take off down the stairs.

I bump into Mandy on the stairs and she almost sends me careening down the stairs face first, but catches me by the elbow before I can meet my doom. “Careful!” she exclaims, laughing. “Our new Laurens is doing his first show tonight, you don’t want to meet him with a bruised-up face.” She comments and continues on her way up the stairs, shouting a “Be careful!” after me. I finally make it to down to the main backstage area where I find one of our stage managers, Tyler, clipboard in hand like it was glued there.

“Hey Tyler, what’s the plan for today?” I ask, zipping up my sweatshirt.

“Can you go check on Javi’s coat from last night? The cream one from the top of the show lost a button somehow. Just make sure it gets back to his dresser. Then meet me onstage. I want you to meet our new Laurens.” I nod and head over to wardrobe, making idle chitchat with the seamstresses while they make sure the button isn’t going anywhere tonight. Once they’re sure its on, I take it and find Javi’s dresser, pressing the coat into her hands and double-timing it up to the stage.

No matter how many times I come to work, I am still amazed at the stage I get to work on every night. Jason, who is our production stage manager, Tyler, Lin, and someone I don’t know are standing in the middle of the turntable when I get to the stage.

“Sophie! Great!” Lin says, smiling. “How was the bakery this morning?”

“Same as always, boss. It was very early and I somehow got edible glitter on myself this morning.”

“I can see that. You’ve still got a few specks on your face,” Lin laughs and the other man turns around to see a smile that almost knocks me out. His smile beams out of him and standing in its path feels like standing in the sun on a warm spring day.

“Oliver Warner,” he offers his hand to me and I have to remind myself not to stare.

“Sophie Hill.” I meet his gaze and offer a smile of my own. Oliver’s deep brown eyes are so kind and warm and full of laughter, it feels like I could swim in them. His hand fits in mine like it was made for me and I suddenly realize we’ve been staring at each other and haven’t let go of each other’s hands. I jerk my hand back and try to will away the embarrassment slowly creeping across my cheeks. “So, you’re the new guy.”

“Uh, yeah, I suppose.” I catch the end of a look between Lin, Tyler and Jason as I turn to remake the circle they were standing in before I joined them.

“Oliver, Sophie here is one of our stagehands and props people. She lives stage left and you can ask her any questions you have, I’m fairly confident she’ll have the answer. She’s been with us since we moved to Broadway and she knows pretty much everything.” Jason rattles on a little more, giving Oliver the main layout of the production.

Lin eventually jumps in adding, “We actually talked and we thought Sophie could give you a tour around the theater and help you get your bearings a little?” Lin gives a well-meaning look at Jason and as if they were having a telepathic conversation, Jason smiles and nods. Oliver doesn’t catch any of this because he had turned his gaze back on me.

“That would be awesome, if you don’t mind?” A faint blush was appearing on the tops his ears.

“No, I don’t mind at all. As long as I don’t have anything pressing to do?” I look towards Jason and Tyler, secretly hoping that one of them would have something for me to do so I wouldn’t have to spend concentrated time alone with this extremely handsome stranger who I would now have to work with every day.

“I don’t have anything for you right now, as long as Javi’s coat got back to his dresser?” I nodded and he smiled, making a go away motion. “Have fun.”

Oliver’s smile could have hung the stars as far as I was concerned. “We will,” I reply softly and I nod my head offstage. I hear Lin snicker behind me and I flip him off without looking back and then I hear three distinct laughs as we disappear offstage. “So, where do you want to start off? We can start at the top and work our way down or at the bottom and work our way up?” I see him weighing the options in his head before replying.

“Let’s go all the way up and work our way down. Seems easier.” Oliver replies and we set off up three flights of stairs.

“This is the roof.” I throw open the door to the roof and we both shiver. “If its warm, which it clearly isn’t, you can sometimes find a few people out here getting sun or eating lunch.” I turn around to head back down the stairs only to find Oliver directly behind me. I crash into him and he grabs my arms to steady me. We are so far into each other’s space that neither of us would have to move very far to kiss.

As if I can’t help it, my eyes drift down to his lips.

God, I need to get a grip.

As I snap my eyes back up to his, I see his brown eyes searching my face. “We,” I clear my throat. “We should keep moving.” I move out of his grip and back down the stairs, a blush burning its way up my neck and face. “The next two levels are mostly just dressing rooms.” I comment, once we get back to the second floor. “This is the crew room. If you can’t find a crew member, check in here, we might be napping. Javi’s room is on this floor, so is Brandon’s and Lexi’s. Most of the ensemble dressing rooms are on the next floor down because they’re the biggest.” I pause in front of a room that is mostly bare. “This is going to be yours I believe.” I check the name card next to the door and nod. “Yep, this is yours.”

Oliver walks into his dressing room and nods, spinning around a few times and shoots a smile at me. “Yeah, can’t complain.” A goofy smile takes over my face and I duck my head to avoid looking at him. When I look back up, Oliver is standing closer than before, his hands shoved in his pockets and a goofy smile of his own on his lips.

“Let’s keep going, yeah?” Oliver nods and I back out of his dressing room and almost run into Javi. “Oh, hey Javi! I assume you know Oliver, he’s our new Laurens.” Javier tosses him a warm smile and a quick hug.

“Soph giving you the grand tour?” Javi asks, leaning against the doorframe of his own dressing room. Oliver looks at Javi and then back at me.

“Yeah, Lin was the one who suggested it.” A look of understanding passes over Javi’s face and he chuckles knowingly.

“Have fun kids. See you backstage later, Oliver? We do a little debut ritual.” Oliver’s eyes light up.

“I’m in!” Javi smiles and ducks into his dressing room. Oliver gestures to the stairs and we make our way down them. I show him the rest of the dressing rooms, reintroducing him to the other cast members as we encountered them. We wind up in the main backstage area with him laying down on one of the various couches, watching me putter around and do the little jobs that I do every day. There were things to be reset, plus I need to find that stupid thing that Thayne always hides from me.

“Soph!” My head jerks up from where I am very intently trying to rifle through a stack of papers, searching for the one I need when Seth calls my name from the other side of the room.

“Yeah, Seth?”

“I hope you don’t have plans tonight because you’re coming out with us! It’s Oliver’s Hamilton debut celebratory drinks and that means your presence is required.” I sigh and shift so I’m not hunched over the papers I was previously rifling through.

“Do I have to?” Just as he was about to reply, Lin comes breezing through, replying for him.

“Yes, you do. It’s your day off at the bakery tomorrow, its not a matinee tomorrow so that means you can sleep until god knows when. You’re going. If I’m going, so are you.” Lin points at me and then disappears.

“Guess I’m going. I also don’t know when he had the time to memorize my work schedule. Lin post haircut is so pushy.”

“I heard that!”

“He also apparently has superhuman hearing,” I mumble to Oliver, at which he dissolves into a fit of giggles. I glance at my watch and bite my lip. “I should probably really start prepping for the show.” He gets up and shoves his hands in his pockets. He tends to do that a lot and I can’t help but think that he looks so cute like that.

“Thanks for the tour and for keeping my nerves down. I- I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I live to serve,” I wink and he smiles his megawatt smile at me and I almost have to grip the side of the table next to me to remain upright. Its sad how much of an effect he has on me after only knowing him for a few hours.

“See you backstage.”

“Break legs. You’ll do great.”

The show passes almost suspiciously well. Oliver knocks it out of the park with every song and when it comes time for Phillip’s duel, I make myself purposefully scarce by disappearing into the offstage hallway. The duel scene was never my favorite but for some reason, its different tonight. When he comes off stage at the end of Stay Alive, he catches me in the doorway. “Still planning to meet us after?” I nod and point to my headset.

I quickly mute myself. “I’ve just got to change really fast after everything is done for the night and then I can join you.” His smile shines even in the darkness of backstage and he disappears back upstairs to get dressed in the iconic cream outfit for the end of the show. I turn the headset back on and try to finish the show in relative peace.

One of the best things about working with a professional company is that after curtain call, the actors scatter and the crew works quickly to reset everything for the next show. It usually doesn’t take that long to reset the props that live on my side as I reset throughout the show.

Tyler gives me the all clear to go and I silently praise myself for tossing an extra shirt in my bag this morning. I quickly change my shirt because I can’t change anything about my jeans or shoes. I tie my hair up in a better ponytail than the sloppy one I had through the show and make sure my makeup hasn’t smudged much. Satisfied that I at least looked decent, I grabbed my backpack, hat and coat before heading out to the address that Lin had texted me.

The Mean Fiddler is just around the corner from the theater and is packed with people by the time I get there. I make my way to the bar and order a Moscow Mule. “There you are!” Oliver is suddenly next to me, a slight flush in his cheeks, possibly from the alcohol or the heat in the bar.

“Here I am,” I laugh, paying the bartender once she returns with my drink. “Where is everyone?” I ask, almost shouting over the noise.

“Back corner!” He all but shouts back. “We have a couple tables but now that you’re here, the party can really start.” Thank god for the low light because otherwise he might have seen the blush burning its way across my face.

“Ah, well. Not all of us can just take off our costumes and leave,” I tease, trying not to spill my drink as we fight our way through the crowd to the tables much of the cast was occupying. “Crew life is not that glamourous.” I joke and I set my backpack down next to Lexi. I’d been dragged to enough of these outings due to my age and I knew Lexi wasn’t the type to get rowdy and she wouldn’t let anything happen to my stuff.

“Congratulations,” I lean over to tell Oliver and he smiles at me.

“Thank you so much! It still feels surreal, you know?” His smile dims for a second, his eyes focusing on the drink in front of him.

“Well you’re a fantastic actor. You’re going to be a great addition to the family.” I smile shyly at him.

“Hear hear!” Lin toasts and I look up, startled and unaware that the others were looking at us.

“To Oliver, my onstage best friend and son, you’re going to blow us all away!” Javi proclaims, raising his glass.

“To Oliver!” We all chorus, clinking glasses together and trading smiles. I take a long sip of my drink because if there was ever a night where I was going to need alcohol to get through, it’s this one.

It is so nice to be out with the people I consider my friends and actually get to relax and have fun. That all changes when Lin shoos everyone to the dancefloor. Oliver looks at me like ‘Who are we to argue with the man?’ and I shrug, downing the rest of my drink. The music pounding through the bar is not my usual taste but it’ll do for the night. Oak and Seth continuously hand me shots until I am sufficiently drunk and semi-leaning on Oliver to keep my balance. His hands are warm on my hips and it feels like he is the only thing anchoring me to the Earth. I spin in his hands to face him and wrap my arms around his neck, trying to keep moving to the rhythm and failing epically.

As we dance, the earlier thoughts of kissing Oliver come rushing back. I’m just getting used to the close proximity to him when Oak taps my shoulder and tear my eyes away from him.

“One more?” I nod and when I turn my head back, time slows down.

Drunk as we are, I can clearly see Oliver’s eyes searching my face. The smell of sweat, alcohol and his cologne overwhelm my nose and the light of the bar is reflected on the light sheen of sweat on our foreheads. “Tell me you don’t want me to do this- tell me you don’t feel the same way right now and I’ll back off and we can stop this.”

I shake my head and move impossibly closer to him so he can hear me. “Stop hesitating and kiss me already.” Damn if it isn’t one of the best kisses I’ve ever had. He tastes like whiskey and something fruity that I can’t place. One of his hands leaves my hip and comes to slip around my neck to keep me pressed to him and I pull him closer, desperate to have more of him.

I vaguely register a camera flash going off next to us but ignore it in favor of keeping Oliver’s lips on mine. I feel like I’m floating, bordering on weightless when Oliver pulls away. We are both breathing hard and I smile shyly, my face warm and red in the low light. My hands are still around his neck so I pull him in for another kiss, which turns into getting pinned against the wall, caged between his hands and getting kissed within an inch of my life.

Kissing Oliver feels so safe, like nothing could touch me. I feel secure and protected and I want this feeling to go on forever and maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but I never want anything else but Oliver’s lips on mine. Feeling his hands on my body, his lips making their way down my neck and everything about him is intoxicating. It feels like there is electricity singing through my veins, like I am the live rail on the subway when he reaches the soft spot on my neck and my knees almost buckle.

And when Oliver suggests a change in venue, I hastily agree. With almost everyone on the dispersed around the bar, we slip out fairly easily. The alcohol mixed with Oliver’s warm hand in mine keeps my body warm as the cold October wind whips through my hair. He hails a taxi and we hurry into it, desperate for warmth and to be anywhere a little less public. His hand doesn’t leave mine as I lean against the door, unabashedly staring at his profile.

“Enjoying the view?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Looking for anything in particular?” He asks, turning his head to look at me.

“Not really. Just… admiring.” I smile and he beckons me over to him. I slide as close as the seat will allow me to be without sitting in his lap and he tucks my body against him. I rest my head on his shoulder, lips ghosting over the curve of his neck. A shuddering breath leaves Oliver’s body and I smile against his neck, pressing soft kisses into the skin beneath his ear.

“That’s dangerous,” he whispers, leaning his head to the side to give me more access.

“Why?”

“I don’t want to anger the makeup artists on the first week I’m in the show with having to cover up hickeys.” That hadn’t occurred to me so I go back to the soft kisses of earlier.

The taxi pulls up outside of an unfamiliar apartment building and Oliver pays him, pulling me out of the car and into the warm lobby. “Where are we?” I ask, genuinely perplexed.

“My apartment building.” Apparently, I am drunker than I thought because that absolutely did not cross my mind.

“Nice place,” I lean into him, slipping my chilly fingers under his t-shirt.

“You haven’t even seen the apartment yet,” He retorts, sliding a hand around my waist.

“I have other things to think about at the moment.” The elevator opens and Oliver guides me in, hands still warm on my hips. The ride is short but he’s getting more handsy by the minute and by the time we get to his floor, I think I’m going to die of embarrassment if we see one of his neighbors with his hands up my shirt.

There are only 4 apartments on his floor so its mercifully a short walk to his. The apartment itself is pretty good size for New York but I don’t register much else besides his bed and the soft sheets.

____________________________________________________________

Oliver disappears to the bathroom and I slip on his t-shirt and my panties, wrapping myself in a blanket from the bed and wandering over to the window. His view is like mine, the tops of buildings and some of the New York skyline pressing imposingly down on you. Oliver’s arms suddenly wrap around me and he rests his head on my shoulder. “I’ll never get tired of this view.”

“Me either,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss behind my ear. A soft sound leaves my mouth and I can feel Oliver smirk against my skin.

“Is it just you living here? I forgot to ask earlier,” He responds with a hum and a smile pressed to my neck.

“Yeah, its just me. I don’t ever see the point in getting a roommate since I keep such weird hours.”

“Piper and I seem to get along just fine,” I comment, turning in his arms.

“Is Piper your roommate?” He asks, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

“She’s my best friend. I was living in New York for a few years after college and she was from my hometown and had moved for a job. She was the one I leaned on when I quit my job.” He looks at me confused and I suck in a deep breath. “I was a trader in the New York Stock Exchange. That job sucked my soul and I hated myself by the time I quit. I found myself resenting the choices I had made so I made the jump to a polar opposite career. I applied for a job with the company just before they made the jump to Broadway and I’ve been there ever since.” Oliver just stares at me and I start to panic, jumping in before he could say anything. “Sorry, that was so much to unload on someone I just met.”

Oliver laughs and pulls me in so that our foreheads are touching. “Sophie, we just had sex. Twice. I think it’s ok.” I blush red and close the distance between our mouths quickly. He pulls away too quickly for my liking and I make a noise of protest. “Besides, if it’s ok, I would very much like to keep doing this.”

“I’d like that too.” I glance over to the clock and groan. “It’s 3 am. We should go to sleep if we don’t want to be zombies tomorrow. I- I should probably head out.” Oliver looks at me like I’ve grown three heads.

“Absolutely not,” he drags me back to the bed and folds me into his arms. “Go to sleep, you doofus. I’m not kicking you out at 3 am.” I know if he had seen my face, he would have seen shock written all over it.

“Are you sure?” I mumble into his chest, adjusting slightly so I wouldn’t make him uncomfortable.

I could already feel sleep pulling the curtains over my eyes when he said yes. I let sleep claim me, safe and warm in Oliver’s arms.

#knock me out story #jordan fisher #ellie woods #writing #hamilton

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writing-of-a-british-bitch · 5 years

Text

Being with Roger would include...

A/N: This is my first time doing headcanons so please feel free to give me criticism!

Masterlist

Meeting him:

Deaky had been the one to introduce you both

Roger called Deaky, hoping he wasn't busy

And Deaky had invited him to come to help him help a friend fix her grandparents garden

And bc drummer boy had no one nothing to do

So he came to the address

There you were

Bent over, pulling old soil out of a pot that was basically falling apart

Roger could barely pull his eyes away from your ass until Deaky nudged him

“You’re staring, Rog,” Deaky warned

Bc we stan a protective best friend

And Roger rolled his eyes

He knew he wanted you.

From what he could see at least

So your ass, basically

Then you turned around, pulling a glove off to wipe your forehead

Leaving a brown stain across it

It was hot as fuck

So everyone, yourself included, was wearing shorts

Your brother had even taken his shirt off

You were wearing a light blue tank top, a dark stain decorating the front of it with denim shorts

Your knees were bruised from kneeling on the floor to pull up dirt

But Roger felt his heart sink

You were already taken

His eyes wandered over to your brother

Not knowing that he was, well, your brother

Suddenly, you sprinted over to Deaky

And wrapped your arms around the fluffy haired boi

“Hey, Deaks! Thanks for coming to help!”

“Hi, love, no problem. It’s nice that you’re helping your grandparents”

Deaky felt Roger tense beside him

But as soon as you both made eye contact, you daren’t look away

He was gorgeous

Big blue eyes and soft blonde hair

Your mind just went “woah”

Roger felt very much the same

Before Roger could even introduce himself, you had pulled him into a hug

Boy was s h o o k

But you pulled away as quickly as you had hugged him

“Sorry, I’m a hugging person. Name’s (Y/N)”

You were grinning and looked so shy behind your pink tinted sunglasses

Rogie just fell for you right there

He was so fucking anxious tho

He’d never felt like this for anyone

So he pushed it aside

Hoping it would go away

(It didn't)

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m Rogah Taylah,”

You couldn't help but giggle at the way he pronounced his name

Roger’s heart fucking soared

“Good to meet you. Thanks for coming,”

A little girl ran towards you before Roger could say anything

Roger’s heart sunk more as you picked her up, spinning her in circles

“Auntie (Y/N)!”

Poor boy felt like he could breathe again

“Hiya, Ally! How was school? Was your daddy late again?”

Deaky had already wandered off, taking position by your grandparents, chatting to them as he weeded one of the healthier flowerbeds.

“Daddy wasn’t late!” Your niece cheered

“When I was your age, your daddy was always late picking me up! Now, why don’t you go help your daddy over there!”

Ally sped off and Roger couldn't keep his eyes off of you

Boy was whipped already and he didn’t even realize it

You turned back to the blonde and he snapped his eyes away

Fucking embarrassing

But you just smiled at him, grabbing his hand with your gloveless one and tugging him over to where you had been working.

Deaky watched as red rose on his friend’s cheeks, eyes narrowed slightly.

It turns out, you were emptying a broken pot to replant some sunflowers in a new pot

You gently instructed him on what to do, adjusting your sunglasses every so often before gesturing for him to start on the pot next to your own.

Eventually, he got to work, following your instructions and pulling the old soil out of the pot, only to have the pot begin to crumble a few seconds later.

You laughed at the panicked expression on his face as he desperately shovelled the soil from the pot into a bag.

Roger suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe, his heart fluttering at the sound

That boy fucking B L U S H E D

After fifteen minutes or so, Roger had shrugged off his jacket, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows

And you couldn’t stop watching the muscles in his arms move whenever he moved.

However, despite how secretive obvious you were being

Roger caught you and sent a wink your way.

Your cheeks turned pink, and you turned back to the sunflowers you were planting.

Roger then noticed the new pots had delicate sunflowers adorning the bottom of them

“Did you do that?”

You looked up in surprise

No one else had noticed

“Did you paint the sunflowers onto the pot?”

“Um, yeah. It’s probably weird. I just like sunflowers,”

“It’s not weird. It’s cute. I love it,”

Your stomach felt like it was full of butterflies

“C’mon we need to finish planting these then we can start getting some of the weeds out of the grass and refill the bird feeders,”

It was then that your dog, a fluffy husky with heterochromia eyes decided it was the perfect time to jump on you.

You toppled sideways, falling into Roger’s eyes and you both burst out into warm laughter.

Everyone’s eyes looked over to you and they all smiled while your dog, Alfie just barked at you.

So you hopped up to get him some more water and a little of the food you had stashed at your grandparents just in case.

As soon as you’re gone, Deaky wanders over, leaving your brother and niece with your grandparents.

Deaky’s cleaning off one of the outside ornaments that had been a little neglected in its time in your grandparents garden

“So, you seem to be getting on with (Y/N) very well,”

“Yeah, she’s lovely-”

“Cut the bullshit, Roger. You like her. I just want you to know if you hurt my best friend, I will fucking end you, band or not,”

Roger gulped and nodded harshly, directing his eyes back to the sunflower he was trying to plant

“Need some help there, Rog?” You came back outside, placing the bowl of food and water in the shaded area your grandparents were sat

But you bent over

And all rog could see were your boobs

And that boy nearly melted

And not because of the sun either ;)

But Deaky saw and kicked the drummer a little too harshly before going to help your sister-in-law with trimming some of the overgrown bushes

“Uh, n-no, I- I think I’m alright th-thanks, love,” Roger snapped his eyes away from you

“Really because you’re trying to put more seeds in instead of soil?”

You were teasing but Roger could feel his ears heating up.

But by the time the garden is finished, a whole six hours after you’d started, it was all worth it.

You were all sweating profusely, covered in dirt

But your grandparents were overjoyed.

So, you began loading some of the rubbish bags into your car to take them to a gardening recycling centre on your way home

Roger and Deaky were helping

You happened to come out as Roger was struggling to pick up a particularly heavy bag

Then you just lifted it up like it weighed nothing

That's when he fell in love

“It was nice to meet you, Roger,” You smiled after strapping your dog into the back seat of your car.

The drummer scratched his neck

“It was nice meeting you too, darling,”

Without another word, you pressed a bit of paper into his hand and kissed his cheeks before adjusting your sunglasses and getting in your car.

Roger grinned as you drove off

You’d given him your phone number

Being with him:

SO MANY HICKEYS

Calls you sunflower

Him being the best dad to your fur baby

Cuddles all the time

Constantly holding hands

In the studio? Must hold hands

At a dinner with his bandmates or your friends? His fingers are locked with yours

Sex? You can bet that boy is holding your hands tighter than ever before

He’s your best lay ever btw

unsurprisingly

Him constantly waking you up with late nights drumming sessions

When Queen gets big, he buys a huge house with a massive garden

And you two spend every spare moment in the garden

Decorating the place with sunflowers

Loves bringing you to shows

Because right at the end he gets to take you on stage for a few seconds

And he likes showing you off

Gets so fucking mad if he hears a groupie talking shit about you

or anyone for that matter

Brian literally had to pull Roger off of Paul after he called you a slut

Roger nearly fucking murdered him

Deaky is so protective

He’s constantly asking if Roger’s treating you right

Honestly, Deaky is glad you’ve found someone who makes you happy

He just knows roger’s reputation

But because he spends so much time with Roger, he can make sure Roger doesn’t cheat

When Roger proposes, it's so calm

he hadn’t even been planning it

he just blurted it out one morning before he left for tour.

But he didn’t regret asking you

not one bit

He fucking adores you and your husky.

You both own his heart

He doesn’t know who he’d be without you

Tears are rolling down your cheeks and you nod silently, pulling the blonde into a kiss

and you’re both so happy.

Life couldn’t get any better

tags: @writingfortoomanyfandoms @metaphorical-love-for-a-car@queens-n-roses @freaky-dcaky @yourealegendfred@fierce-bab@dusthas-beenbitten @bensroger @iaminlovewithmydrums @strangeandwonderfulconcepts @babebenhardy @benhardyjones @silvver-rose

#Queen #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #borhap imagine #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy headcanons #roger taylor headcanons #phoebe writes #phoebe speaks

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angrylizardjacket · 6 years

Text

Queen Fandom Writers Masterpost

@a-second-hand-sorrow / message

@angrylizardjacket / message / masterlist I write for the BoRhap Cast & Characters, like imagines and occasional smut (and some stylistic experiments if the whim strikes i guess)

@bensroger-tay / message

@blushmis / message / masterlist I’m absolutely in love with the Bohemian Rhapsody movie and cast. The blonde drummer kinda stole my heart... I write fanfics for BoRhap!Roger Taylor with the mentioning of other cast members. Be sure to check out my masterlist. Thanks (:

@bohemianrhapsodyimagines / message / masterlist

@borhap-babies / message / masterlist i do cast and original queen but most people have been requesting cast!queen so like ben hardy!roger taylor x

@bohrapstyles / message I write for Rami, Ben and Freddie.

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@queens-n-roses / message I write for Queen and the BoRhap boys. My blog is currently mostly Roger x reader, but I write for everyone except Freddie. I have no qualms with writing smut

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@rogers-flowered-blazer / message I will write for all the queen boys and am open to writing for the actors but mainly I write for Roger. Usually one shots and a couple series on the way.

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blondecarfucker · 5 years

Text

Ocean Eyes (Roger Taylor)

Roger Taylor x Reader

BoRhap!Roger Taylor x Reader

Fic Summary: You're new in town and a blue-eyed boy caught your attention. You grow up to be best friends, but the possibility of being more is always haunting the two of you. Reader is also an art student who draws Roger constantly.

Fic Note: So I wrote this for @yourealegendfred's 3k words song inspired challenge. I have been trying to write this for a while now, but the story was missing a middle part, and that's where @pigfish27 comes in with a beautiful request that was already very similar to my idea for the fic (with the reader being very artistic and such), and honestly, don't know how I'd write this without her idea, so thank you!! Thank you too for the challenge and song inspo, yourealegendfred. I chose this song because 1) I like Billie Eilish 2) Roger's eyes are very hypnotic. If it's your first time here, hi! I adore Roger Taylor and I write a lot about him, including a long ass, 17 parts at the moment, fanfic, so my masterlist is in my bio! Can't link it here or else Tumblr will avoid showing the post on the tags.

Words: Nearly 4000

Warnings: a bit of angst in the beggining, SMUT, unprotected sex (it's not the 70s anymore kids, you know you should wrap it before you tap it), recreational use of drugs (that's up to you, but like, we all know it's the right thing to say "kid's, don't do it", so i'm saying it now). that are probably some minor errors cause im super sleepy

Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish

I've been watching you

For some time

You remember the first time you saw Roger. You just moved to a new city, your 15th city in your 14 years, and you just got to school. Your mom promised you'd stop moving, but you didn't really believe her. You had no reason to.

So you got there, your school uniform ill fitting, and as you said goodbye to your mom in the car, you saw him. His hair was longer than the rest of the boys, his uniform shirt was creased, the first buttons open, his tie undone.

You watched him step on a cigarette butt on the ground as he held another one between his fingers. You couldn't believe how blue his eyes were behind all the smoke around his face.

Not only in color. He was joking with his friends, and you could hear them laughing, but he looked sad, his eyes unable to hide how blue he really was.

You recognized those eyes. Eyes like that looked right back at you every time you looked in the mirror.

He looked back into your eyes, too.

Can't stop staring

At those oceans eyes

But you only spoke for the first time in detention. You didn't knew why was he there; you got caught sleeping in bio again. You were drawing, trying to make time go by faster, when a hand pressed against your table. It was big in comparison to yours, and you noticed how callous it looked. You looked up and was met with his eyes.

"Could you borrow me a pencil?", he said, a smirk on his lips.

"Sure", you told him, and gave him one.

"What are you doing?", he said, as he sat back into his chair, scribbling something in a piece of paper in front of him.

"I'm drawing", you said. You only realised you sketched his hand a few minutes later. You looked at him, watching as he wrote something in the piece of paper. The word "drowse" covered the paper.

"Are you really drawing? Or are you watching me?", he said, aggressive after realizing you read what he wrote, moving the paper away from you. His eyes stared into yours. Angry.

"I can do both. I'm drawing you", you snapped back, and he looked surprised that you weren't intimidated by him. He smirked. "Do you want me to pose?", he asked. "Just look at me", you told him, sketching his eyes.

Burning cities

And napalm skies

Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes

Your ocean eyes

You drew him a lot. He used to call himself your muse. You drew him drumming, his eyes narrowed at the effort. You drew him when he had his arms wrapped around some girl at a party.

You grew closer together, bonding over how you disliked that town. You couldn't believe this was the city that your mom settled on. Roger and you would complain about that as you shared a blunt on the side of the river behind your school, the sound of the running water muffling your complaints.

He liked how you never seemed uncomfortable around him, even when he was being cocky, and you liked how honest he was around you, never treating you like one of the girls he flirted with, just treating you as an equal to him.

No fair

You really know how to make me cry

When you gimme those ocean eyes

It wasn't until when you both moved to London for school that it happened for the first time. You both shared a flat, and you were sitting on the couch, drinking and smoking while listening to My Sweet Lord on repeat, and he was complaining, as usual. About the band he was in, about his classes, about the girls he was seeing.

You turned to him and said "God, Taylor. I don't think I can think of anyone else that complains as much as you do", and he scoffed. "Well, there's you. I can think of something else we could do", and you stared into his eyes, even more blue because of the redness around his pupils. And you knew what he was suggesting. You flirted sometimes, though you never really payed attention to it. But now, with the smoke clouding your brain, and his eyes staring deep into yours, you thought that he could do whatever he wanted with you.

And he did.

He moved his hand to your thigh, pulling you closer to him on the couch, as you kept looking into his eyes. He didn't break the contact, almost as if he was checking how far he could go before you stopped him.

But you never did.

I'm scared

I've never fallen from quite this high

Falling into your ocean eyes

Those ocean eyes

You were still friends with him, but you noticed a change in your relationship. Every time he'd come home with a girl after a gig, you felt an ache on your chest. You were used to that, emotional pain, but never before from him. You didn't realize how much influence he had over you. How much you could care about him.

And it was made worse by the fact that every few weeks, you would both fuck again - quick, messy, rough; you barely looked at each other. But you never really talked about it, not even joked about it to each other. "Don't overthink this", you told yourself in the mirror after a night with him, throwing water in your face, the bruises he made on your neck and cleavage staring back at you.

And even when those marks disappeared, you could still feel his touch on your skin. You forced yourself to go out with other people, but it was always him that ended up invading your mind.

He got further under your skin than anyone else; he wasn't just a good lay. He made you feel vulnerable, exposed, but also noticed. He saw everything that was wrong with you and was still there.

Cause the thing is, you knew his worst, too. His cheating on other girls - even with you, or when he'd call three girls in the same night just because he wasn't sure who would really come, and the three girls did, and he would then entertain two of them as the third waited on your living room, not in the mood for something groupal. The girls who waited on him to finish were usually pretty nice with you, since they visibly didn't care for sharing - one of them actually helped you pick an outfit to go out to a pub, one day.

And you were also used to his aggressive, drunk self that usually came before he started to vomit, and you'd always help him - holding his sweaty strands back, convincing him to take a cold shower, going out to the deli and getting him chips and a coke so he had something to eat before passing out. He'd done the same for you multiple times.

Or the first time you did molly together on a music festival - Roger bit his lips until they blead, and you kept dancing even after the sun went up again, burning your shoulders under the sun. The two of you took care of each other afterwards, and swore off molly.

You felt like a married couple, sometimes; only the two of you living in the same flat for nearly a year, occasionally fucking, knowing each other inside out. This thought only made it hurt more when you saw him with a girl that wasn't you.

And now, every time you fucked, you had to force yourself off the bed so you wouldn't sleep on his arms, no matter how much you wanted.

No fair

You really know how to make me cry

When you gimme those ocean eyes

I'm scared

I've never fallen from quite this high

Falling into your ocean eyes

Those ocean eyes

And then he brought a friend home one night - a guy that joined the band after the other guy, Tim, left. You know Brian, you even hang out with Brian when you go to Roger's shows and rehearsals, but you never really clicked.

Now this guy, Freddie, was almost a male version of you: very artistic, always scribbling something. Eventually, when Roger and you decided to move to a bigger flat, you invited Freddie to split the rent and live on the other room the flat had.

You felt close to Freddie, and you always helped each other out when drawing, borrowing pencils and brushes whenever necessary, and Roger just watched - he couldn't really participate in this new dynamic.

You even nearly stopped the casual fucking - the incidents, for the lack of a better word, would happen less often. It was almost like he felt Freddie was replacing him in every aspect of your life, but he wasn't - you and Freddie didn't see each other that way. But to admit it to Roger would be to admit you felt different with him, and you didn't want him to feel sorry for you as he rejected you.

Once you noticed that he feels replaced, though, you started to involve Roger in your drawings again - asking him to pose for you, drawing his car.

And that was good for you too, because you couldn't take him off your mind, now that you're getting less of him. He even started to show up in your school work, you knowing his face features so well that you drew him on everything.

One of your works was to remake pictures and cover art from pop culture with your own trace - and there was Roger's face in the same pose and with the same dim lights as Marlene Dietrich (one of Freddie's favourite pictures to the point where he has it framed in your living room), and there's Roger's face and body in the remake of the cover of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars, and there's Roger in the cover art for Aladdin Sane.

You didn't want to look creepy - and you know how creepy it was that you kept drawing your friend in each and every drawing and painting you did.

But you're used to drawing him - you started it when you were both 14. You knew the exact curve of his lips, the bridge of his nose, the format of his eyes.

I've been walking through

A world gone blind

Can't stop thinking of your diamond mind

And now you had to do oil paintings of the human physique - a nightmare for you, completely unaccustomed to oil paint. So you painted the body you knew best, and the one that you craved the most. It's been two months since the last time you had sex with Roger.

And one day, Roger came home and saw a painting on one of your easels in the living room - not an odd sight. But the painting itself caught his attention - a very detailed, realistic naked man. Once he got closer, he noticed how the man's skin tone was close to his, how he had the same haircut... the same face as Roger.

The realization hit him - you drew him naked.

He blushed.

Cause he always called himself your muse, but this was intimate - this was the way he'd lay in bed after you had sex. A part of your friendship that you never discussed.

He always thought of you as someone who's too cool for him - you never once looked intimidated by his jokes, flirting, whatever. You didn't really care. He thought you didn't give a fuck about the two of you - especially now that you had Freddie.

He tried to get mad at one of you two - but Freddie was too nice and a good frontman, so he couldn't fight him, and he could never get mad at you. All you had to do was say "Rog", in your husky voice and he'd be on his knees.

That was so unlike him. He was embarrassed, so he tried to play it cool. Pretend he wasn't hurt at the fact that you were probably fucking Freddie on his back.

But this drawing of him in a very vulnerable, intimate moment made him change his mind. Maybe you did care for him. Maybe those moments mattered to you almost as much as they mattered to him.

So he walked to your room, and knocked lightly on the door, getting in before you said "Come in". Because you never said it; you were listening to Purple Haze at maximum volume, only wearing a baggy white shirt with paint everywhere. He could see your black panties peeking from under it as you swayed your hips to the rhythm of the music.

He then looked to what you were drawing - he recognized his hair and body again. You were painting him nude, yet again. A devilish smirk appeared on his lips.

"Hey, Y/N", he screamed, and you jumped out of surprise, your eyes wide as you turned to face him. "Roger, what the fuck are you doing here?", you asked, trying to normalize your breathing.

"Oh, just checking out your paintings. It's a pretty hot guy you have as a model… I wonder who he is", he told you, ironic, walking closer to the painting.

You blushed for a moment, like a child getting caught. But you soon went back to your devil-may-care attitude - the one he was more familiar with. "Just painted the body I'm more familiar with", you shrugged, turning back to your painting so you didn't have to see his reaction. It's the first time one of you references the sex.

"It's fine. I'm honoured, really", he said, moving behind the easel so he could see your face as you worked. "My pleasure", you told him, dry. "I came here to offer my help, really", he told you, unbuttoning his shirt. "Thought you could use the real life model to make work easier", he grinned, and you looked at him. His voice sounded relaxed as usual, but his face looked tense. He was scared that you'd turn him down.

He looked so vulnerable, yet so beautiful - your bedroom had the best lighting in the house, and the sun on his skin made him look like Apollo himself, luminous.

"Sure. That'll definitely make the work flow faster", you shrugged again, but you felt a genuine smile forming as you saw him relax and start undressing.

Careful creature

Made friends with time

He left her lonely with a diamond mind

And those ocean eyes

And you painted him many times, for this project, for the ones that came after it, for your personal projects. It really made you bond again - but you didn't have sex anymore, which was confusing, cause you were seeing him naked more than ever, as he posed nude whenever you asked.

You were conscious that you were going out with even less guys, and that Roger was seeing less girls. Freddie was aware of your newfound chemistry, and always made jokes about how it felt to live third wheeling. You laughed, and Roger too, but you didn't knew what to do about it.

Then, one Sunday, Roger appeared in your doorframe, half dressed, a backpack open on his hands. "Do you wanna spend the day at the beach?", he asked, and you looked confused. "Roger, it's already autumn", you told him, and went back to scribbling. You were drawing his hands - now that he was wearing rings, they posed a new challenge to you.

"And what about it? It's better, actually. No one will be there to annoy us. You could paint me… C'mon, Y/N", he said, and you considered. It would be quite an impressive painting - the blue in his eyes and the blue of the ocean, the sand, his hair and skin mixing, too.

"Ok, Rog", you said, and started to pack your materials. "See you in my car in five minutes, then", he told you, and went back to dressing and packing at the same time.

The car ride there was a bit weird - you couldn't find a subject to talk to him, overthinking every idea he had. He wasn't starting any conversations, either.

Then once you got to the beach, you unpacked your materials, and he stood in front of you. "What should I do?", he asked, a bit insecure, and you let out a sigh. You didn't want to spend the afternoon in this uncomfortable feeling around him.

So you got up and said "Join me", as you started undressing, and wearing only your underwear, you jumped inside the cold water.

You screamed when the freezing sea touched your skin, and you soon heard Roger scream, too. "Y/N, why the fuck did you get me inside the water? It's freezing!", he screamed, and you laughed. "Thought you could handle some cold water, Taylor. But apparently I'm wrong", you told him, and splashed water on his face. "Oh, so you want war?" he asked, and started to tickle you.

You spent some time in the ocean, your bodies getting used to the temperature, joking and swimming. Once the sun got closer to the horizon, bathing everything in a golden light, you told Roger it was time to paint. You got off the water, and he followed you, watching your body as your underwear clinged to your wet skin.

But when you got to wear the beach towel was covering the sand - the perfect place for you to paint him - you were shaking, the cold wind taking away your body heat. "Hey, just a second", Roger told you before handing you a towel. After you dried yourself, he offered you one of his fur coats that was in his bag. You accepted it, the fur immediately conserving your body temperature, and you started to relax. Roger got another fur coat for himself, and also a bottle of tequila and a blunt from the bag.

"Cheers", he said, after drinking straight from the bottle and passing it to you. You drank, too, as he started to light up the blunt.

"How should I pose?", he asked, passing you the blunt.

"Just stay the way you are. It's perfect", you told him, and you started mixing the tones.

The painting was almost ready and the sun was setting as you got to Roger's eyes. He stopped posing for a moment so he could start a fire to warm the both of you.

"Thanks", you said, and he shrugged. "A way to apologize for barely passing you the blunt", he said, and you laughed. "It's okay, I barely passed you the tequila", you shrugged, too.

As you went back to painting, you were frustrated at his eyes. You just couldn't get their color right. He noticed you were stressed.

"Did I do anything wrong?", he asked, and you laughed. "No, Rog. I just can't get your eye colour right", you told him. "Why is that?" he asked again, and you shrugged again. "Don't know. They're usually pretty hard to get right, but I can do it most of the times", you said.

Maybe it was the reflex of the fire in his eyes. "I'll get a closer look at them, okay?", you asked, putting your work to the side and leaning into him, your weight on your hands and knees.

Roger looked at your body, warmly lit by the fire by your side, your black lingerie in contrast with the caramel fur. He knew how soft your skin was, and he craved feeling in on the tip of his fingers.

So he moved one of his hands so he could cup your jaw, and he saw as your breathing hitched. He hasn't touched you like this in months.

You moved one of your own hands to cup his face, and he felt the friction of the sand on your skin against him as you pulled him closer to a kiss.

None of you closed your eyes during the slow kiss.

You pushed him onto his back, and pressed his body against the sand with your own. You grinded against him as you kissed him again, and he closed his eyes as he groaned in response.

But you didn't want to hurry it - this was the first time you were fucking in months, yeah, but also the first time in felt so intimate - you were actually looking at each other during some of the kiss, and he caressed your waist under the coat, your thighs, with caring - he was not being rough for the first time. You could feel his bulge against your core, and you kept moving against it as you kissed him.

Until he had enough and started pulling your panties down, his index finger brushing against your skin under the elastic band.

You started pushing his underwear down, too, and his cock was already hard. You got on your knees, straddling him, so he could sit and take his boxers off. You then moved your bare core against the tip of his member. You both moaned.

"Just fuck me", he mumbled under his breath, his perfect lips parted. You leaned into him so you could kiss him as you pushed your body down his cock until he bottomed out inside of you.

You stayed there for a few moments, kissing him slowly, before you started riding him.

It was slow at first, and he kept his eyes on you, the electric blue driving you mad - everything around you seemed to pale in comparison. You only broke eye contact once one of you closed your eyes to moan or curse.

It was a different feeling - you could still feel the fabric of your bra against your breast as you kept riding him, moving faster and trying to keep a rhythm. You unclasped your bra, and Roger helped you off your coat and bra, and started kissing your breasts, but you could see he was having a hard time focusing on them, as you kept riding him. He was close.

But you needed to see more of him so you could come. "I need to see you", you told him, and he nodded, looking at you through his lashes and giving you a weak smirk as he took the coat off.

The cold wind was hard on your skin, but the temperature shock made you more turned on. Roger was even closer, and started to press sloppy kisses to your neck as leaned his head against your shoulder. You felt your legs burning of the effort of riding him, but you were now getting close, too, as you felt his skin against your hard nipples.

He moved his hand from your waist to your sensitive clit, and massaged it. You nearly screamed - the extra stimulation was what you needed to reach your climax, and he moved his hands to your hips to help you ride him through your high.

You felt tired and sleepy, but you kept riding him with his help, your head on his neck now, and he could feel your heavy breathing against his skin, and soon you could see the veins on his neck pop and his jaw clench as he reached his climax.

None of you moved for a few moments, until Roger felt you shiver in his arms, breaking up his embrace to get your coat.

You got off of him so he could get his own coat, but you didn't got up - you pushed him down again, covering your bodies with the coat as if it was a duvet. He chuckled as you put your head in his chest, and you look up only to see him facing you.

At that moment, the electric blue of his gaze made every other shade of blue around you even more intense - the sea and the sky. All because of his ocean eyes.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x you #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor fluff #ben hardy x you #ben hardy smut #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy fanfic #queen fanfic #bohemian rhapsody fanfic #borhap fanfic #roger taylor imagine #ben hardy imagine #queen imagines #bohemian rhapsody imagine

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im-happy-at-home · 5 years

Text

like i’ve got nothing on you || r.t.

Roger Taylor x Reader, John Deacon x (OOC) Veronica Tetzlaff

Rating: T, soft angst and fluff

Words: 3200+

A/N: Hi everyone, this is my first fanfic ever and I hope you all enjoy it! This is also my entry to @yourealegendfred‘s 3k challenge and I really had fun writing this! While this is inspired by Queen by Shawn Mendes, it ended up completely different from the song since I got carried away. Anyways, hope you like it!

Special thanks to @39-volunteers-to-space @cosmicsskies @all-we-hear-is for giving me much needed feedback and support!

“I think you’re going a little too far, Y/N.”

You turned to look at your best friend, Ronnie. You were sitting at a small table at the corner of the crowded pub. It was a Friday night, Queen had finished an electrifying set, and you just slow danced with Roger Taylor on the dance floor. You could still feel his arms around your waist and smell the sweat and smoke coming off of him after his incredible as usual performance, so it took you a little too long to respond to your friend’s statement.

“I’m sorry, what?” you answered, snapping out of the memory of Roger huskily singing along to the song playing, his breath on your neck giving you goosebumps as you wrapped your arms around his–

Ronnie sighed. “You know what I said, Y/N. You’re leading him on.”

“She’s right,” Ronnie’s boyfriend John added as he took a sip of his drink. “I’ve never seen Roger act the way he does when he’s with you. I think he’s falling for you.”

He had his arm thrown around Ronnie’s shoulders as she leaned against his chest, stealing a sip from his beer every so often. He was the reason you two went out to every Queen gig, no matter how far away from Ronnie’s flat it was. He was the reason Ronnie always had fresh flowers on her desk. He was the reason why she would always make two cups of coffee or tea before leaving for school. He was the reason she never had to take care of herself when he was sick. He was the reason she got inspired to wake up at sunrise to paint again.

They were the reason you had to turn away from the man you love.

You sighed heavily. “John, Ronnie, we’ve talked about this. We’ve got a good, fun, platonic relationship I don’t want being ruined by you two,” you said with a glare. “And for the record, he does all the flirting you accuse me of initiating. I just play along.”

“Oh, so you didn’t wear that incredibly sheer top for his benefit, huh?” she scoffed. “Or run your hands through his hair as you were dancing just now?”

“Or the way you eyed him when he played his solo tonight?” John added. You glared at him as you felt your face heat up. “What? I’m observant. I see things.”

“This is why I love you,” Ronnie stated. John’s eyes melted, but before they could get up to any romantic fluff, you interrupted. “Fine. If you could both please save it until you get a room, I am willing to admit I have been flirting with him. There I said it.”

“Finally,” Ronnie said with a roll of her eyes. John started clapping.

“Shut up, Deaks,” you shot out. John stopped clapping.

“So now that you admit it, what are you going to do about it?” Ronnie asked. The couple looked at you expectantly.

You leaned back on your chair, taking a second to observe your surroundings. Across the room, a middle aged couple were leaning on each other while watching the young and the free dance, whispering sweet nothings to each other and trading soft smiles. You could already see John and Ronnie in that same spot in a few years or so. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t see yourself. Or Roger.

You took a deep breath and looked them straight in the eye. “Nothing.”

“WHAT!?” Other tables around you looked over in annoyance.

“Oh my god, you wankers, keep it down,” you whispered, leaning heavily on the table trying to hide your burning face in your hands.

“What do you mean NOTHING?” Ronnie demanded. “Y/N, this has been going on for two months! Leaving this much unresolved tension is not good for either of you! It’s driving me mad!”

Your head shot up. “Don’t you dare talk to me about unresolved tension!” you growled. “I had to listen to you pine and whine over John for a whole fucking semester before he even asked you out! You have no right!”

Ronnie quieted as John let out the tiniest of smirks. He tried to hide it, but it was there.

“I’m sorry,” Ronnie mumbled. “I just think you two make each other happy, that’s all. Ever since John and I got together,” she said as she caressed John’s hand, “I guess I just want my best friend to have the same thing I have.”

You leaned your head on your hand and sighed heavily. Why did Ronnie have to be so sweet?

John gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek. “For the record, I agree,” he said. “Although, I thought I was your best friend?”

“Not now, love,” she said patiently. You looked down at the table.

“Look, I appreciate your support, Ron. You too, John,” you said, nodding at them. “Roger does make me happy, but it won’t ever be in the way you think he does. Or how I want him to.”

“What do you mean?” Ronnie asked as John furrowed his brows.

“We’re not compatible,” you said, nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “We would never last as a couple.” It didn’t hurt as much as you thought when you said it out loud.

“What the hell makes you say that?” John said aggressively. Ronnie shushed him, placing her hand on his arm to calm down.

“We’re too alike. We drink too much, we party too much, we’re too stubborn,” you listed. “We hate the same music, we read the same books, we laugh at the same people…I don’t know! I don’t need to explain myself to you guys,” you said, high strung. You could feel moisture gathering at the corner of your eyes.

“Those seem like things you have in common instead of things to hold you back,” Ronnie said, crossing her arms.

“What-that’s-no they’re not! Those aren’t the real-there are so many other reasons!”

“Pray, do tell.”

“We’re both young and life is messy,” you said, frustrated. “We both know that our friendship could be threatened if something bad happened to our hypothetical relationship. Hell, we’re both extremely attracted to multiple people at the moment, so why commit?”

That shut the couple up for a bit.

“I…guess that makes sense,” Ronnie said thoughtfully.

“It makes a ton of sense,” you said, relieved. “Listen, Roger and I like each other a lot, but not in the way you two do,” you said, your voice trailing off. You’ve never said that out loud before, and it made all the more real now that it was out there.

Right when it seemed like Ronnie was satisfied with your answer, John apparently wasn’t. “Then why do you keep leading him on?”

You and Ronnie looked at him in surprise.

He continued. “Listen, Y/n, I love you. But Roger is one of my best friends, and I don’t want to see him get hurt.”

“Get hurt?” you scoffed. “He’s got a new girl on his arm every other night. He doesn’t need me. He’s the one breaking all those poor girls’ hearts,” you said defensively. “Besides, he needs someone to keep his ego in check.”

“No, that’s my job,” John said half-jokingly, but went back to the conversation at hand seriously. “But I know Roger, and if you think he isn’t capable of having his heart broken, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

You looked down. You hadn’t thought of that before.

“Even if he’s a damn pain sometimes, he’s got the biggest heart I know. And that heart is obviously beating hard and fast for you. So please tell me this,” John leaned forward. “Do you want him or not?”

“I-“Ronnie and John waited patiently. “I do…” you said quietly. John and Ronnie were beaming triumphantly.

“But I can’t.”

“WHAT?” The tables around you were getting annoyed. You didn’t care.

“I want him, but I can’t have him,” you said decidedly. “And I won’t.”

“WHY THE FUCK NOT?” The tables around you were considering murdering John, but he didn’t care either. “Why not, y/n? You love him! Why are you doing this to yourself? Roger obviously loves you! Why are you-“

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Don’t you think I want to?” you yelled. “Don’t you think I want to be the one he goes home to at night? Or the one he wakes up to in the morning? Don’t you think I want to be the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with? Don’t you think I want what you two have? Don’t you think I want that so badly?”

You breathed heavily, two tears streaming down your cheeks. John quieted. So did the tables around you, but you both still didn’t care.

Ronnie did though. “Deaky, please,” she said, pulling her boyfriend to settle back into his chair. John apologized before sinking in his seat. You couldn’t look at them as you dabbed your face with napkins. They shared a look before Ronnie reached out and took your hand. “I’m sorry we pushed you,” she said quietly, her voice full of emotion. “We can stop talking about this, we don’t want to meddle any more than we already did,” she said, glaring at John. His shoulders sadly drooped as he nodded.

“Ever since you first introduced me to him, Deaky,” you began anyway, “I felt this undeniable attraction to him. We both did. And the more time I spent with you lot, I just,” you said helplessly, “started falling in love with him.”

Ronnie took both your hands in hers. John leaned forward.

“I was so ready, so, so ready for one of us to make a move. Weeks and weeks of flirting and smiles and inside jokes.” You sighed. “Remember last month, at the gig downtown?” Ronnie and John nodded. “You were so pretty that night,” Ronnie fondly remembered.

You smiled, but continued. “That was the night I was going to tell him. After the show, I was going to get him to dance, and tell him right there on the dancefloor how I felt about him. But I then I found him with another girl.” You paused. “Maureen.”

John’s eyes widened. “Maureen? As in the one with the red hair?” You nodded. “They were together for a week, weren’t they?” You nodded again.

“I wasn’t too upset when I found him with her at the gig. Just disappointed. All the effort to look that good for was for nothing,” you added half smiling. You still had your sense of humor. “Besides, I went home with someone that night anyway.” Ronnie scrunched her nose. “But what bothered me was how quickly she was gone.”

John’s eyebrows shot up.

“But y/n,” Ronnie began. “You aren’t like Maureen. You two…you two fit. You surprise him, you make him laugh and smile and-“

“Maureen made him laugh too,” you interrupted. “So did Jessica, and Beth, and Leah. I know their names, I didn’t forget them like Roger did so quickly. And I’m not even the one who dated them.”

Your table was silent.

“My point is, I don’t want to be one of those girls he gets tired of once the chase is over. You both know he loves the rush of pursuing someone. I’m not going to feed to his addiction. I can’t.”

“I want him in my life, hell, I need him in my life. And I’m not going to throw all that I have away.” Ronnie’s heart reached out to you. You sounded so defeated. “I love him too much. But I know that I can’t have what I want with him. I can’t have what you two have with him,” you said as John glanced at Ronnie with wide eyes. Ronnie was tearing up.

“You two showed me that love isn’t supposed to be about sex and labels and all that shit. It’s supposed to be about fulfillment and support and happiness.” Ronnie had her hand over her mouth, a single tear dripping down her cheek. John was blinking hard. They are so cute, you thought fondly.

“Roger and I, we could be so good together. We could be something incredible. But he could also get tired of me once the chase is over. I could hate him when he stops making an effort for me. We could break each other’s hearts and I won’t be able to bear it. ”

You took a deep breath and sat up straighter. You weren’t going to cry anymore. You didn’t need to.

“With Roger, with you and the other boys,” you said, your eyes softening. “I have people who love and support me, I have a family. And even if I don’t have what you two have, yet,” you added with a smile, “I have you guys, and that’s all I need right now.”

Ronnie reached over to give you a hug, warm and tight. John cleared his throat as he patted your back, firm and comforting. You loved them so much.

You weren’t sure, but you could hear sniffles coming from the other tables, too.

“And even if that means not being able to shag that sexy piece of art every day,” you blurted out, “then it would have been worth it.”

Ronnie sighed and dried her eyes as John rolled his eyes and chuckled fondly. You were back to your old self. The other tables were rising up to leave.

John was still thoughtful, though.

“Is that why you still look at him the way you do?” John asked. “Because of what could have been?”

“I’ll always look at him like that. I’ll always love him,” you reflected. “But no way am I letting him know, because I see now that I’m way too good for him.” Your eyes sparkled mischievously. The couple chuckled.

“Who’s too good for what now?”

Your head whipped around as the bastard himself, Roger Taylor walked up. All tousled blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes of him. All wide smiles and youthful laughs. He was holding two drinks in his hands, and very visible lipstick streaks were on the corner of his lips. John saw your eyes linger on it, and flinched. Ronnie’s heart sank for you. But you surprised them, and yourself, when you said, “You. I said we’re too good for you.” You were calm, collected, and undeniably at the peak of coolness. Ronnie and John were impressed.

Roger’s lips turned down, but the mirth was still in his eyes. He was used to you, and was looking forward to the banter you two shared regularly. “What did I do this time?” he asked defensively.

“You were supposed to bring me my drink ages ago,” you scolded him as you took one of the larger drinks in his hand. “And here you come crawling over after promising to sit with us tonight instead of taking those fangirls of yours outside for some action.” You shook your head as you took a sip of your drink. He blushed, scowling. “I have to admit, though,” looking at the lipstick on his lips, “that’s a pretty shade of burgundy.”

Roger swiped his fingers against his mouth, eyes widening when his fingers were stained with red. He grabbed a few napkins while everyone at the table laughed at him, harshly rubbing at the stains on his face.

“For your information, a fucking fangirl jumped me,” he said with a scowl. “You know, the one with the huge hair?” he said to John. John hummed in recognition. “Yes, the annoying one.”

Ronnie’s eyes were getting dangerously dark. “You’re…familiar with this groupie?” she asked him deathly quiet.

John not knowing what to do, you decided to jump in and save the day.

“Ronnie, relax, we all do.”

“What?” all three of your friends demanded.

“Tall? Big hair?” you confirmed. Roger nodded suspiciously.

“Hmm,” you nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I knew it. I believe that fucking fangirl goes by the name of Brian May.”

Roger hid a smile as he shook his head, John cracking up and giving you nod of thanks. “I’m kidding Ronnie, relax a little, John’s too scared too even look other women anyways.” Ronnie shook her head at your antics as John heartily agreed with you.

As the laughter died down, you caught Roger looking at you fondly, and you blushed, taking another sip of your drink. Damn those eyes of his. After tonight, it hurt when you realized how he only ever looked at you like that. “Good show tonight, Rog,” you said with a soft smile.

“Thanks,” he said gleefully. “Had to put on a show for all the lovely ladies out here tonight.”

Your heart warmed until you heard some high pitched giggling behind you. Three girls were standing at the bar staring at the table, eyelashes fluttering and fingers twirling their hair annoyingly at the two boys. John sighed and pulled Ronnie closer to his side. Ronnie leaned into him, but her eyes were on you. Roger was grinning. You looked away, unconsciously moving away from him, not noticing his arm about to go around your shoulders to pull you closer, too. Roger’s grin faded as John and Ronnie’s eyes caught everything. You sipped your drink.

“And the lovely men out here, too,” you added, nudging your head to the other side of the bar. Everyone whipped their heads to where you looking. A few guys in gorgeous outfits were lounging around Freddie and Mary, laughing and having a good time. Two of them caught Roger staring. One winked at him while the other smirked and cocked a flawless eyebrow. For the second time tonight, Roger was red and speechless.

The atmosphere at your table relaxed as it was spent making fun of Roger and the shenanigans he and the others would get to. The night was warm and peaceful, you and your friends sharing drinks and stories throughout the evening. It was perfect. But despite everything, you still had to hold yourself back at all the opportunities you could’ve traced patterns on Roger’s thigh or leaned your head against his shoulder. John was right. You couldn’t make him think that something was there when there wasn’t. When there shouldn’t. He didn’t deserve that, and neither did you.

If you missed the way Roger would smile softly at you or how he would get lost in thought as he listened to you talk, you only did because you were forcing yourself to look away from him. You replayed the memory of last slow dance you two shared, deciding that it was finally time for you would stop pining over Roger Taylor. This was it. You were going to move on, whether the two of you liked it or not.

————-———————-———

“I’m worried about them.”

John looked down at Ronnie as they walked back to her apartment where he would presumably be spending the night. The moon was bright as the only sounds around them were the crunching of gravel beneath their feet.

“You saw how he looked at her, right?” John asked her.

“And the way she would look away,” she added quietly.

“It’s painful to watch, especially after everything Y/N said.”

“Someone’s going to get hurt.”

John tightened his hold on her hand. “Both of them are.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, wrapped up in thinking about the lives and loves of two of their best friends.

#yalf3kchallenge #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor angst #roger taylor fluff #john deacon #john deacon x reader #john deacon imagine #roger taylor fanfic #john deacon fluff #queen #queen band #bohemian rhapsody #freddie mercury #brian may #like ive got nothing on you

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the-girl-who-used-to-write · 5 years

Text

10 Things I Hate About You

Ship- Roger Taylor x Reader

I just thought I should dedicate my first ever Roger imagine to @yourealegendfred because you are by far the most talented Roger/Ben writer I have ever read and from our conversation, you seem like the sweetest person.

I hate the way you talk to me…

It really wasn’t a secret that (Y/N) and Roger’s relationship was about as complicated as it could be. They were simultaneously the closest people you could meet, but they were so oblivious to each other’s feelings towards the other that it angered the band to no end. The two of them had such opposing personalities though that they both dealt with their pent up feelings in different ways. (Y/N) was a lot gentler, whereas Roger would be more aggressive. He would unintentionally be sarcastic or smarmy towards her and then realise what he had done and be back to his caring self; apologetic and sweet.

And the way you cut your hair.

His hair was the most infuriating thing, but she could not decide why. It was just hair, but it was just how soft it looked. She couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it must feel, and it was the perfect shade of blonde that when the sunlight hit it on a rare hot day in England, it looked like gold. She probably sounded like a stalker to anyone who knew what she was thinking, but it was so annoying how perfect it could look, even when he woke up and had a bedhead.

I hate the way you drive my car…

She leant Roger her car once because she needed a lift and she had just gotten out of an operation, and she wasn’t allowed to drive for at least 2 weeks. She originally was just going to accept the ride from Brian, considering he was a lot more responsible but Roger was insistent. Brian just let him do it to see if it would finally give the two the push they needed to realise how the other felt. Roger was driving safely for about 15 minutes until they got onto a completely empty stretch of road where he just decided to put his foot down and roll down all the windows. She wanted to tell him to be safer and she wanted to hate him for nearly crashing her car, but she was so enraptured by how happy and carefree he was that the attitude was just infectious, and she was soon joining in with his laughter and happiness.

I hate it when you stare.

He did it all the time. Whether she was just reading something, talking to another member of the band or actually trying to have a conversation with him he would just stare. It may have been in awe, it may have been in disgust but he did it anyway and there was nothing more annoying than (Y/N) trying to sit there and concentrate and all she would see were his beautiful eyes scanning over her body. She would try and snap him out of it but he would normally take a while to do so. She should have been creeped out but her feelings for him just went wild without any warning.

I hate your big dumb combat boots…

He always wore those fucking boots. While Freddie wore nice platform or Deacy would wear a sensible pair of trainers, Roger would be kicking around in the godamn combat boots. She couldn’t really complain much, considering she was the one who bought them for him for Christmas but the banging of his heavy footfalls every time he walked into a room was so annoying if she was trying to focus. But when she was sad and feeling down, the sound of those combat boots was the biggest comfort she could have in that situation. If she didn’t hear those boots, she would still be in a dark place.

And the way you read my mind.

He always knew what she was thinking, and it was so weird. She thought he was psychic because if she was feeling sad or upset then he would always know and he would seem to know exactly what was up with her. And if she was happy or excited, he knew exactly why and how to celebrate. He would either bring her a bunch of snacks or watch a movie with her, or he would know exactly the time she wanted to go to the pub and just have a night out. It was scary how well he knew her.

I hate you so much that it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme.

Every time she felt something good or bad about Roger, she would write it down. It would all go in a small, leather-bound notebook that he bought her for her birthday one year, and when she would get bored on a day with the band watching them record, she would look at them all and write them in a poem or a song. If any of the boys found this notebook she would be mortified, but the fact that Roger could make her rhyme and feel so ill when she thought about never being with him.

I hate the way you’re always right…

Every time she thought she would finally have some kind of victory over Roger in an argument or debate, he would end up being exactly on the money with his answer. If she felt upset and refused to tell him what was wrong, she would get pissed off when he would explain the situation and she would not be able to deny it because he got it exactly right.

I hate it when you lie.

Roger only really had two vices. His biggest was smoking, but lying was the other one. He was such a smooth liar that it was almost impossible to tell whether he was telling the truth or not. It would always anger her when she would be so convinced he was telling the truth, and then it would turn out it was an elaborate lie. If she was being honest with herself, it really should have been a lot more of an issue but she couldn’t help but go back every time.

I hate it when you make me laugh…

He could light any situation up. He always knew how to cheer her up. Sometimes, he would play her favourite song on his drums, sometimes he would just sit with her and make comments about the band which she couldn’t help but laugh at. His snarky and sarcastic attitude was something that would always put a smile on her face, whether she wanted it to or not.

Even worse when you make me cry.

But, despite his ability to lighten a room, sometimes his actions would break her completely so she would be sitting there crying. If he would bring a groupie back to the studio and flaunt her to the band and (Y/N), she couldn’t help but cry about the way she wished it was her, but it was never going to be. She wanted to be there with Roger, wanted to be with him but she knew that he probably had too much of a fear of commitment to have a relationship that went past casual sex.

I hate it when you’re not around and the fact you didn’t call.

Sometimes, when she was in need and she tried to call Roger, he didn’t answer. He was busy with groupies a lot of the time, so when she was crying or dealing with all her problems piling on top of her, he would be no help in some of these times. Brian would be the surrogate in those cases, and Roger would always be overwhelmed with guilt the next day when he was told about the events of the previous evening.

But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you…

(Y/N) came down the stairs to smell the heavenly scent of her favourite breakfast. She could see the mop of golden hair as she got down the stairs, and she wrapped her arms around the muscled stomach of her husband. Roger turned and smiled at her, taking his left arm and pulling her into his side as he continued their food.

“I can’t believe that I used to try and hate you so much,” she laughed, and his perfect teeth showed when he laughed alongside her and kissed her softly.

Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

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reniboo · 5 years

Text

KISSES — Queen and Bohemian Rhapsody boys

Pairings: John Deacon x reader, Brian May x reader, Roger Taylor x reader, Freddie Mercury x reader, Joe Mazzello x reader, Gwilym Lee x reader, Ben Hardy x reader, Rami Malek x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: Lots and lots of kisses

Word Count: 1.6k

Side Note: These are quick/short kissing prompts for both the BoRhap boys and Queen. As always, I hope you enjoy, criticism is always appreciated.

JOHN DEACON

This is dedicated to @rogerscupboard @princessleiaqueen @deacytits @yourealegendfred and everybody else in the groupchat!!

The intimacy of John’s kisses blew you away every time he gave you one. Long or short, quick or slow, it never mattered about the duration of them as long as it was John who was giving you one.

One of his favourite ways to show you how much he loved you was to simply say it. John would press light, feathery kisses onto your lips, breaking in between them to whisper “I love you,” continuously. This always causes an eruption of butterflies inside your stomach as he cups your cheek with his hand. Every time John pulls away from you, he loves to stare into your eyes as he whispers the words, getting lost in the eyes of the person he loves most.

On your bad days, John wants you to feel as comfortable and stress-free as you can be, this is why he’s always offering you cups of tea or coffee throughout the day. As he places the mug down in front of you, John will lean down and press his lips to the top of your forehead, telling you that it will be okay soon as he knows the impact of those six words coming from him.

BRIAN MAY

Kisses with Brian were soft and compact. He loves it when he can spend time showing you how much he loves you through a kiss, pulling you close and wrapping his long arms around you.

His thin fingers would casually trace the outline of your lips, slightly puffy from the hard kiss you two had pulled away from seconds ago. You can feel the roughness of the pads on his fingers from strumming his guitar. Closing your eyes and getting lost in the touch of your lover, you barely notice as time goes by. The softness of your lips post-kiss was secretly one of Brian’s favourite things.

Brian simply loves it when you wear a t-shirt with a v-neck as it allows him access to your neck. What normally starts as an innocent kiss can turn into something more when Brian starts to kiss the corner of your mouth, and then your cheek. He’ll move onto your neck after, dragging each and every kiss down your neck with his hands gripping onto your hips. He’ll finish in the crook of your neck, giving you one last kiss on the lips before stepping away, eyes glazing over as he looks at what has become of your neck-- covered in dark, circular hickeys.

ROGER TAYLOR

The kisses that Roger give you never fail to surprise you, whether he's trying something naughty in a not-so-appropriate setting, or devouring you with his touch. There was never a dull moment with him.

Between the tickle of his long hair brushing against your collarbone and chin and the gentle, barely-there kisses he was pressing onto your neck, you can’t hold in your giggle. Roger doesn't look up at you but you can feel the smirk growing on his face against your neck as he continues.

The force that Roger puts into some of the kisses with you could almost knock someone out. He loves showing the love and passion he holds for you in kisses and sometimes, when he suddenly pulls you into one, it surprises you. As Roger detaches his lips from yours, you can only stare at him in shock. Roger can honestly say that he loves it when he does that,

FREDDIE MERCURY

Being with Freddie was like a constant excitement in your life, he would always take you to nice places, treat you with love and respect, care for you unconditionally. You could tell by the way he kissed you, so gentle and kindly, how much he cared for you.

While kissing, you like to drag your hand down Freddie’s arm, fingertips only just grazing over his smooth skin, you lock yours and Freddie’s hands together. Hand holding between you and Freddie was like an extra reassurance, a way to tell each other that you were there for them.

At the start of your relationship, you and Freddie did not kiss very much when you two were in public, it wasn’t because you weren’t comfortable in flaunting your relationship, but more because you and Freddie both preferred to keep your kisses hidden behind walls and doors. When Freddie gives you that special, slow and sensual kiss, you can’t help but freeze up. Whether its due to the overwhelming amount of love you feel building up inside of you for the man, or the fact that he’s standing right in front of you with a grin stretched across his face.

JOE MAZZELLO

To say that the kisses between you and Joe were silly would be correct. You and him found any way to bring a fun outlook into your relationship, Joe wanted to hear you laughing and giggling all the time because he liked making you happy.

Pecking Joe on the cheek was a common occurrence in the early weeks of your relationship, but your first kiss had happened on accident. Going to place a kiss on Joe’s cheek, you leaned down over his shoulder and went to kiss him. As Joe felt you lean onto his shoulder, he twisted his head. Neither of you moved at first, too shocked to make the first move. Then Joe was grabbing the back of your head, bringing you in closer and closer, angling his head to deepen the kiss. It was safe to say that you would remember the kiss for a while.

It was only a small peck, and yet the amount of emotion and love that was transferred between you two almost scary. It was the last time you would see Joe for a couple of months due to his acting job, but as he walked away you could still feel his lips on yours. The tingly feeling on your lips followed you around all day, not letting you forget about him.

GWILYM LEE

Gwilym and kissing went like two peas in a pod-- three including you. He loves to sporadically kiss you from time to time, wanting to surprise you in any sweet way he can.

Gwilym hated it when he had to leave you during a party, they were supposed too be a time for having fun but instead he was being dragged away from you to chat with an old friend. During the night, you and Gwilym still hadn't had the chance to see each other, but every time Gwilym passes by you, he would quickly press soft kiss to your lips, cheek or forehead. They were quick and gone in an instant but you couldn't still feel the imprint of his lips on your cheek long after he had left.

To say that you and Gwilym got carried away sometimes would be an understatement. It started out as an innocent kiss on the lips, but after a while neither of you wanted to let go of the other. He brought a hand up to cup your chin and bring you closer than before. Sooner or later, you had to separate. Both of you were breathless, Gwilym sucked in a deep breath as he stared at you.

BEN HARDY

You and Ben preferred to keep the more intimate kisses private, settling for quick pecks onto the cheek or forehead when in public, but kissed with Ben in the privacy of your own home should be cherished. He loves to keep you wanting more after every kiss

Something Ben adores is the closeness and intimacy of your kisses. Your bodies are intertwined, lips locked and breath running short. He’ll place his hands on your hips and pull you towards him, causing you to wrap your fingers around the back of his neck. Background noise turns to static when your lips collide, as if nothing else matters apart from the boy standing in front of you. At some point, your hands run through his hair, tugging on it slightly as you do.

Ben absolutely loves to pull you close and hold you there, so he often put ‘Love Of My Life’ or some other slow song on. Standing in front of you with his hand held out, Ben waits for you to place your own hand into his so that he can pull it up to his mouth to press a light kiss to your skin. He places his chin onto your shoulder, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

RAMI MALEK

Some would say that yours and Rami’s kisses were often wild and full of passion and they would be correct. He loves to show how much he loves you through kisses and other types of affection. As long as he has some sort of way to touch you, Rami is usually happy.

Consumed, complete and totally in love with you. These thoughts floated around Rami’s head constantly when he was with you, as if it was the only thing he can thing about when you're there, and he absolutely loved to remind you. Hesitantly, Rami pulled away from you, his lips hanging just above your own as he whispered cute compliments and sweet words to you. Saying “I love you” one last time, Rami connected your lips together. This time, it was smooth, a soft and content feeling settled in your stomach.

Rough kisses weren’t all that uncommon with Rami, often throwing in a quiet groan or a tight grip on your hips were often included in your many kisses, but Rami had a favorite type of kiss from you. He loves it when, mid-kiss, you very gently bite down on his bottom lip, pulling away slightly and releasing it. He can’t decide why he loves it so much, but he makes sure to tell you that he does, judging by the noises that emit from him.

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who-even-is--galileo · 5 years

Text

Just Me, Her, and the Moon - r.t.

A/N: This is my first Roger Taylor x Reader drabble and I don’t really hate it? It’s for @yourealegendfred‘s 3k writing challenge. It’s based on the song End of the Day by One Direction and this may be a part one or it may be a one shot, I’m not sure..

wc: 800ish sorry it’s short i know

warnings: angst? language?

11:45 December 31st

The New Year’s party was starting to calm down as Roger opened the door to the roof. There were 15 minutes left until the clock struck midnight and your best friend didn’t want to be surrounded by kissing couples when that time rolled around. The wind was whirling around the two of you and your hair blew around some. Roger had his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the railing.

The city skyline stretched before you and you were mesmerized, lights dancing as far as you could see. The moon above you shone brightly, illuminating Roger’s face when you looked at him. He mumbled something under his breath but you couldn’t hear it over the wind. You went to question him about it, but he cut you off.

“Do you remember when we were 16 and you broke your wrist because you fell while chasing me down the street?” Roger looked over at you, and you looked away, back toward the city.

“I only chased you because you took my diary. 16 year old (Y/N) had some big secrets,” you faced him again, turning your whole body this time. A huge smile covered your face.

“And you remember that I swore that I hadn’t read any of it?” His eyebrows knitted together as he watched your movements. You nodded and Rog grabbed your hand. “I lied. I read one of the pages.”

Your mind began to race, thinking about what page it could have been. There wasn’t really anything in that diary that you hadn’t told Roger. Anything other than the one page that you confessed that you had liked him since you were 11. “Oh yeah? Read any juicy details about my life, did you?” You lightly hit his chest.

“Well there was this one thing. I’m not sure if it still has any real application to today, but I read that-”

“Hey Rog, maybe you shouldn’t open that can of worms. Some things are kept hidden for a reason,” you try not to sound too harsh, but you don’t want to hear Roger say that he knew. If Roger knew you liked him when you were 16, he would ask if you liked him now and you don’t want to admit to that.

“But (Y/N),” he grabbed your hand again, brining it up to lay flat against his chest, “Why keep it a secret? If you had feelings for me, why not just tell me?”

“Because Roger, if I told you then we lose our friendship. We’ve been friends far too long for our relationship to end over a stupid diary entry I wrote years ago, no matter if it still applies now or not!” Roger stepped closer to you, enveloping you into a hug.

He leaned close to your ear and whispered, “But it does, doesn’t it? Still apply that is.” He leaned back to look at you again. Your face felt hot and it was being hit by little strands of Roger’s hair. Roger looked down at his watch to check the time. “Because I’m into you, (Y/N). I think you’re fucking amazing.”

Roger leans in to you and your lips brush. The two of you linger there for a moment before you lean into Roger more, moving your lips with his. Fireworks go off behind you, signaling the stroke of midnight. You pull away to watch the scene unfold, but then you realize that you just kissed Roger Taylor. You just kissed your best friend.

“Roger we can’t do this. We’re best friends,” You back away from the railing of the roof and head toward the door back inside. You feel Roger’s hand grab your wrist to keep you from running and you’re pulled into his chest.

“Listen (Y/N), I know this is scary and that love can be frightening, but god dammit, all I know is that you want what you want, and you’ve gotta say what you’re gonna say. And yeah when you follow your heart sometimes it breaks but at the end of the day you love who you love! And I know I’ve made a million mistakes on my way here but it’s helped me learn that you’re the one that I want, (Y/N). You and only you.”

“Oh my gosh, Roger shut up and kiss me again please,” you say, grabbing his shirt, and although there weren’t fireworks going off behind you this time, there was surely an explosion going on in your chest. “Happy New Year, Rog.”

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor blurb #roger taylor drabble #yalf3kchallenge #queen #queen imagines #happy new year #new year #roger taylor imagine #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy!roger x reader

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comeon-fuckme-emoboy · 5 years

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My Masterlist of Other Writers Masterlists

I am all for supporting fanfic writers and as someone who reads a SHIT TON of fanfic, I have been trying my best to like and comment on the posts of writers I really like but we all know that that is not good enough. I really want to start reblogging fics that I read more often because I want more people to see what I enjoy reading, give people the chance to find some really good content (tbh a lot of the writing I have really loved I have found through other people reblogging) and I really want to support fanfic writers because they don't get a whole lot out of writing for us and the least I can do is support them and help them get recognition. That being said a lot of the things I read involve NSFW content and I'm gonna be reblogging that shit too because dammit its good shit and it deserves to be recognized. So if you're not into that stuff Im sorry in advanced.

That being said here are some series I have been really enjoying and really want to share with you guys. Im putting my favorite series by them but I also love their other writing so Im gonna link their masterlists

Love of My Life and You're My Best Friend by @blushmis (masterlist)

A Simple Favor by @hystericallyqueen (masterlist)

Better Now by @sevenseasofky (queen masterlist and her borhap masterlist)

ask your destiny to dance by @angrylizardjacket (okay wait pause for a second cause she always reblogs other writers stuff iterally everyone just go follow her so you can see the stuff she reblog she is literally so talented and nice wtf here is her masterlist)

ollie by @yourealegendfred (masterlist)

Bed of Roses by @blondecarfucker (masterlist)

Fallout by @queens-n-roses (z's smut is so so good please go check out their other stuff too; masterlist)

Blame by @icangiveyoutheirnames (masterlist)

And here are some other really good writers please go check them out

@freddiesstache @sweet-ladyy @rogermeddowtaylor @curlyclogs @lminlovewithmycar @winter-widoww

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mocimori · 5 years

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Been wanting to make fanart of this chapter for so long LAKSD

Self care is reading @yourealegendfred ‘s Ollie and getting baby fever. I linked chapter 6 since this is based on that chapter (which gave me fluff for days because Ollie’s a precious kid and I’m just O(--( when I read the y/n and Rog moments!)

#I don't make the rules lol #ooof yeah featuring my oc again #baby dino and his beautiful dad #Fic rec #this was supposed to be part of a photoset that's all about my favorite Roger and y/n fics #mochiart #fanart #THEY'RE REALLY GOOD #And helps me keep my sanity #also fic writers aren't appreciated enough and I wish I had more hands so I can draw all the scenes that inspired me #I have a list of fics that I'd like to draw scenes from #also idk why but I can't get Rog's face right in certain angles #Next time I'll get it for sure ;;#Lmao I love this series a lot like I can reread it multiple times because it's just that good #it's better than good it's like Amanda opened the gates of heaven and blessed us with this amazing series that gives you baby fever

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ok-anon · 5 years

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How Did It End Up Like This? (”Mr. Brightside” Roger Taylor x Reader) Chapter 1

PLEASE REBLOG AND LEAVE COMMENTS, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH IT HELPS. ALSO REQUEST BOX IS OPEN!

a/n: this is a submission for @yourealegendfred ‘s 3k songfic challenge (congrats love, you fricken deserve it) and i’ve worked for a bit on it. even if you’re not a Queen/Bohrap fan, maybe give it a shot? this fic could be for both universes. also THIS IS A SERIES and if y’all like it, let me know so I can continue it! thank you all so much, i love you all

pairing: roger taylor x reader

word count: 1.2k

Backstage should not have felt as sweltering as it did. There was no plausible reason for the thin sheen of sweat enveloping his scantily clad body, especially in the brisk month of January. But nevertheless, the young drummer felt the blood under his pale skin begin to simmer.

How long had she been standing there?

Roger, of course, was talking about the Queen’s regular groupie who had been tagging along for the past few months. However, groupie was definitely not the right word. As an amateur photographer, she wasn’t there just because she loved the band. She was there because she felt the insane exhilaration from their performance that the rest of the band did, and wanted to capture it forever in film. After examples of her remarkable talent and willingness to work for a professional referral alone, she scored a proper position on the team. And Roger Taylor was addicted to her.

He first noticed that she never tried to catch his attention, quite the opposite actually. Wanting to take candid photos, ‘Rog, for Christ's sake, stop staring at the camera!’ often left her mouth. But how could he help it? When she would crouch on the sidelines to gain a level perspective, bottom lip wedged between her teeth, one radiant eye scrunched shut as she trained her gaze on her target. How on earth could he look away?

And the relationship between the two twenty-somethings was, in Roger’s opinion, close to perfection. He adored their back and forth, the relentless teasing, the soft smiles of encouragement he’d receive before rushing out on stage. She would take the piss out of his mistakes, and while he’d never admit it he looked forward to her badgering. He would describe them as...friends. Not particularly close, but a warm feeling always followed her presence. And there was a specific reason that every girl he took home at the end of the night, was not that. Because once you slept with someone, you risked losing what you had before.

Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t want to sleep with her. She was obviously fit. The second she showed up for her first soundcheck, there was an irremovable stirring in his lower stomach. He had hoped that it would eventually dissipate. Seeing her tonight, was honest proof that it never did. Her typical work jeans and button down was replaced by a restrictive skirt and blouse that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her heels clacked teasingly against the worn cement as she cleaned the lens of her beloved camera. A nervous habit of hers, he noted. It couldn’t be pre-show jitters however because if she still had those she had always managed to hide them well.

Ignoring the university student currently carding her manicured fingers through his lengthy blonde waves, Roger’s eyes were locked on the girl shooting a test shot of the sound crew. He was thinking on how the two had never shared a one-on-one conversation, always keeping a safe distance and the company of others. But maybe, that was time to change. His legs had just begun straining to push his weight off of his resting spot when he paused.

Who the hell was this guy?

The simmer in his blood increased to a boil when his gaze trained on the tall metrosexual placing his hands on her waist, in an all too familiar fashion. Pursing his lips with enough pressure to bruise, Roger’s brows knitted together. He watched her, the girl who could admittedly make his current bout of nausea feel alluring, slide her palms across his button up clad chest. Seeing their lips connect was enough to cause his hand on the strawberry blonde’s thigh to clench uncomfortably.

“Ouch!” she hissed through her teeth, and he removed his touch instantly. He barely muttered an apology as he rose to his feet. Stalking forward, knowing very well he could make one of his hot-headed mistakes, he needed to know who this blazer toting twat was.

“Roger Taylor!” his voice leaving her lips did not help the turmoil in his gut, but did cause the corner of his mouth to quirk up famously. “Meet...Jonathan. My boyfriend.” No. Absolutely not. Someone as exhilarating and vibrant as she would never choose this absolute paper bag of a human being. The hand that was outstretched by their unconcerned guest was limply shaken as the drummer attempted to hide his grimace.

“So thrilled that you all came to the area, it’s nearly impossible to take a break from my classes at Cambridge.” Roger couldn’t help the scoff that erupted from his throat as he clicked his tongue.

This prick. This golden triangle, pressed shirt, photographer stealing prick.

“Sure, mate.” He offered, bitingly. He rolled his shoulders back, challenging eyes not leaving the other male. Despite the testosterone pumping through his veins, the blonde’s searing skin instantly erupted in goosebumps when he felt her tender touch dance across his exposed upper arm.

“Rog has definitely been my sanity on the road. Even if he’s a right arse most of the time.” The mix of her comment and subsequent laugh caused an unexpected reaction within Roger. It wasn’t realizing that his trousers had gotten particularly tight, or imagining what was under her fitted blouse. It was a shiver of utter affection. Knowing that she enjoyed his presence as much as he did hers made a tender smile appear on his face. Before he could respond, he felt himself being dragged towards the stage by a certain curly haired guitarist.

“C’mon Casanova. You’re needed to do, you know…” Brian chuckled as he slapped drumsticks into the disgruntled male’s palm, “...your job.” Throwing a crude symbol towards his bandmate, he planted himself onto the worn vinyl stool behind his instrument. Tosser. Tapping out a habitual beat, his glower shifted from the empty audience to the wings. There she was. Where she always stood. And typically, it would provide him the adrenaline that he needed to get through the show. But seeing Mr. Cambridge, with his hands placed on her waist was enough to make him feel utterly ill.

That feeling stayed throughout the entirety of sound and as he stood, downing his fourth beer with the deafening crowd awaiting. He rocked back and forth in his boots, feeling his mind swim with everything that had happened that evening. He hadn’t seen her since his glimpse earlier in the day and would be lying if he said that it wasn’t because he couldn’t stand the sight of his hands on her. As Queen stepped onto the stage, he was feeling far from the high he had normalized. His feet shuffled as he climbed the platform, ready to force himself through the next few hours. That was until he heard her.

“Rog! Try to stay on the beat!” Her call could rival that of angels. He allowed himself to catch her teasing gaze, and a grin crossed his lips. Jonathan wasn’t there. She stood on her own, staring at him, just like it was meant to be. He responded by hammering out a spontaneous beat, to which she pretended to swoon. But he chose to hope that it was real. That he got her going. That when her boyfriend’s fingers roamed her body, she imagined they were the calloused digits of the drummer. That small ribbon of hope was all Roger needed to perform the hardest he felt in a while. Because this time, he had something to prove.

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writing-of-a-british-bitch · 5 years

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The Fairy King - Chapter 4

Fandom: Queen/Borhap

Specified gender: Female

Pairing: Queen X reader/ To be determined, x reader

TW: Mentions of death, sabotage, I don't think there’s anything else?

Genre: Fantasy. (Labyrinth AU)

Series: The Fairy King

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

(Y/N) already felt like she’d been there for hours, and if Roger’s words were indeed correct and time did pass differently, she most definitely had. She was also starting to believe that the worm had pulled her leg and sent her the entirely wrong way, because no matter where she turned, she didn’t appear to make any progress. Just after the worm had sent her on her way, she’d found a piece of chalk against the wall and had begun drawing arrows pointing in the direction she was heading. However, she soon realised they'd all been flipped and changed. Her eyebrows furrowed at the realisation and she let out a growl.

“Someone has been changing my marks! What a horrible place this is! It’s not fair!” She exclaimed, her hands slapping against her legs.

“That’s right! It’s not fair!” A new voice made (Y/N) twist around and she saw that the wall that had been sealed before had now become to doors with guards in front of them. One of the guards in front of each door was upside down, head poking out from the bottom of the shield and the other was stood upright, the shield held tight in its grip. The guards on the left held a shield with red details, matching the colour of the helmet on its head and the guard on the left held a shield with blue details. Each of the guards laughed at the comment, shaking their heads.

“This… this was a dead-end a minute ago,” (Y/N) mumbled aloud and the four guards looked between themselves before glancing back at her.

“No, that’s the dead-end behind you!” the blue upside down guard chuckled, and when she turned back, the wall had, in fact, closed up, enclosing her in with the guards. They all continued to laugh, borderline hysterically.

“It keeps changing! What am I supposed to do?” She huffed in annoyance and all the guards shrugged except for the upside-down red one who raised his eyebrows slightly.

“Try one of these doors.” He stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, causing (Y/N)’s skin to crawl in exasperation

“One of them leads to the tower and the other leads to-”

“Baba ba bum!”

“-certain death!”

She narrowed her eyebrows and folded her arms, examining the group.

“Which one is which?” (Y/N) requested, taking a few steps closer and knelt down to the upside-down guards as the group appeared to grow nervous. The two upside-down guards shared a glance before looking back to her.

“We can’t tell you,” The flipped red one answered.

“Why not?”

“Uh, I, uh… we don’t know!”

“But they do!” The upside-down blue guard butted in and the pair looked up to the normal guards.

“Oh, then I’ll ask them,” She stood back up and looked between the red and blue guards expectantly.

“You can’t ask us! You can only ask one of us,” The red guard corrected and adjusted himself, jostling the guard below.

“It’s in the rules. And you should know that one of us always tells the truth and one of us always lies. That’s a rule too,” The blue guard pointed to the red guard “He always lies.”

“I do not! I tell the truth!”

“Oh what a lie!” The two upside-down guards covered their mouths to stop their near maniacal laughter.

“He’s the liar!”

“Alright,” (Y/N) walked over to the red guard and placed her hands on her hips “Answer yes or no. Would he tell me that this door leads to the castle?” She pointed to the blue guard who looked at her, flabbergasted.

“Uh…” The red guard leant down so his head was hidden by the shield and began muttering to the upside-down guard. After a few seconds, he looked back up to her “Yes.”

(Y/N) paused and thought over his response, glancing between them both as she searched her own answer for any discrepancies.

“Then the other door leads to the castle and this door leads to certain death!” She said, feeling a strong sense of pride and accomplishment fill her body.

“How do you know? He could be telling the truth,” He replied, almost as if he was trying to persuade you to go into his door instead.

“But then you wouldn’t be. So if you said yes, the answer would be no,” She reasoned and blue guard seemed shocked, even more so than he had been before.

“But I could be telling the truth!”

“Then he would be lying. So if you told me yes, the answer would still be no,” She shot back and the blue and red guard looked at each other.

“Is that right?” The red guard asked and the blue guard shrugged.

“I don’t know- I’ve never understood it!”

“No, it’s right. I’ve figured it out,” (Y/N) insisted and walked over to the blue guards, who stepped aside, a little awkwardly, before taking a small step through the threshold “I could never do it before. I think I’m getting smarter. It’s a piece of cake!”

However, just as she said that the floor opened from beneath her feet. She let out a scream as she dropped but before hundreds of hands reached out through the wall and gripped onto her, slowly pulling her to a stop.

“Yuck! Help! Stop it!” She screeched, squirming in the grip of the dozens of hands. Suddenly, some of the hands joined together to look like a face.

“What do you mean help?”

“We are helping.”

“We’re helping hands!”

“You’re hurting!” She snapped, glancing around the darkened tunnel of hands.

“Would you like us to let go?”

As they let go, she continued to fall, another scream ripping from her throat.

“No!” She bellowed and the hands gripped onto her body once more.

“Well then, come on!”

“Which way?”

“Which way?” She repeated, shifting as the hands gripped tighter and began pinching.

“Up or down?”

“Oh…” (Y/N) muttered

“Come on! Come on!”

“We haven’t got all day!”

“Well, it’s a big decision for her.”

“Which way do you want to go, hmm?”

“Yes, which way?”

“Well… since I’m pointed that way… I guess I’ll go down,” (Y/N) said but instantly regretted her decision as the voices turned mocking.

“She chose down!”

“She chose down?”

The hands began leading her straight down and she tried to grip on to them to stop herself from descending further.

“Wait, was that wrong?” She questioned.

“Too late now!”

With that, the hands dropped her through a metal grate, which instantly closed behind her, and their harsh laughter echoed until it slammed shut. The room was pitch black and she looked around in panic.

Mercury was lazing on his throne leisurely, watching the girl through the enlarged crystal ball in the middle of the room. May and Deacon stood either side of his throne and the people of Mercury’s party crowded around the crystal, trying to eye where (Y/N) had found herself. May was beyond impressed that she had managed to solve the two-door prison - so many had lost their lives upon reaching the guards- but he had winced upon her saying how easy it was. That was one of the worst things anyone could say while trapped inside the King’s labyrinth. However, while May was impressed, Deacon couldn’t stop the worry rising in his body. She was a young thing, full of life, and clearly very intelligent but so naive. She was going to get herself killed if she continued the way she was.

“She’s in the oubliette,” Mercury observed and the room, beside the king, May and Deacon, burst into laughter, only to be silenced a second later with a harsh “Shut up. She shouldn’t have made it as far as the Oubliette. She should have given up by now.”

“She’ll never give up,” One of the guests replied, not taking her eyes off of the girl in the crystal.

“The pixie is about to lead her back to the beginning. She’ll soon give up when she realises she has to start all over again,” Mercury let out a dark laugh, slicing through the tense silence of the room “Well, laugh!”

Tags (for this series): @loveandbeloved29 @sam-mercurry-sixx@sunflower-borhap-boys @bouncingjoe @lets-go-panic-at-discos@storiesandcelestialbodies @everything-you-dont-wanna-be @sincereleygmg @mirkwoodshewolf@queendeakyy @sprinkle-covered-leeks

Tags: @writingfortoomanyfandoms @metaphorical-love-for-a-car@queens-n-roses @freaky-dcaky@yourealegendfred@fierce-bab@dusthas-beenbitten @bensroger@strangeandwonderfulconcepts@babebenhardy@benhardyjones @silvver-rose @psychosupernatural

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