Promises [Roger Taylor X Reader]

Promises [Roger Taylor x Reader]

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: "Remember when you promised we’d always be together? Because I remember when I thought you meant it.”

Word count: 1282

Contains: ANGST SO MUCH ANGST

A/N: This is my fic for @bensroger’s 3k writing challenge (congrats on 3k love!) I hope you enjoy!

You hear the front door open and close. 

“I’m home!” your husband calls from the foyer as he sets his keys on the table. He walks into the living room as you wait for him on the couch. 

“Hi darling, you know for dinner, I was thinking we could go to that Italian place you really like––” he says, distracted by taking off his jacket, the various zippers and buttons making it a harder task than it should be. 

“Who’s Rachel?” you ask quietly. He stops mid taking off his jacket. A pause. A too-long, self-incriminating pause. 

“Who?” he asks.

“Don’t fucking play dumb. Samantha saw you with her in the bathroom the other night.” Silence. He doesn’t even try to deny it now. Stops talking and hangs his head, and you feel your heart cleave in two. 

You let out a mirthless laugh that sounds more like a sob as tears begin falling down your face. Those tears finally let loose because a little part of you thought, maybe, just maybe Samantha was lying or that she didn’t see it right or she made it a mistake and the man standing in between the legs of another girl in a slimy bar bathroom wasn’t your husband––wasn’t Roger. And the fact that that little part of you was wrong made you cry even harder. Disappointment and heartbreak and betrayal making you press your hands onto your mouth as if that’ll hold the breaking pieces of you together. He walks over, arm raised, about to lay his hand on your shoulder to try to comfort you. 

“Don’t touch me,” you scream, jerking away from him. Your fists clench, and you feel your nails digging into your palm. You think you feel them puncture through the skin, think you feel blood. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his own tears beginning to pool in his eyes. You ignore his apology, choosing not to listen. Refusing to listen. 

“Remember––remember when you promised we’d always be together? Because I remember when I thought you meant it,” you say, your voice breaking. And he flinches. Flinches so hard, it looks as if he got slapped in the face. Flinches because he remembers exactly when he promised you that––is thrown back to that exact moment. 

You wake up to the feeling of Roger’s fingers trailing along your jaw, your cheeks, your brows. You scrunch up your nose as he presses a kiss to the tip of it. He exhales softly, his heart clenching at the sight. Your eyes finally flutter open, and you’re met with him gazing upon you, eyes soft, his arm propping up his head as he looks down on you. 

“Good morning, my beautiful fiancé,” he murmurs. Too tired to speak just yet, you wrap your arms lazily around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

“Good morning, lover,” you whisper once you separate. 

“Sleep well?” 

“Yeah, right up until I was rudely awoken,” you say, snuggling deeper into his side, draping an arm across his torso. He laughs.

“At least the first thing you woke up to was the face of your gorgeous fiancé,” he says, flicking your nose. 

“Hmm, I guess so…” You press a kiss to his sternum, and he squirms. You look at him with an absolutely wicked expression, now feeling very much awake. Seeing this expression, he opens his mouth, but you cut him off by poking his sides. He jerks away. 

“Oh, you really want to start this?” he asks before beginning his own assault to your arm pits. You shriek, kicking and writhing your body away from his fingers. 

You somehow manage to get on top of him, legs on either side of his body as you pin his wrists down by his sides (he let you win).

“Ha!” you exclaim, victorious, looking down at him. He meets your gaze with amusement dancing in his eyes. 

“Fine, you beat me, could I get a kiss now to make me feel better?” he asks, looking up at you though his long lashes. You roll your eyes before leaning down to press your lips to his. But when you bend down, your hands loosen their grips on his wrists. 

You squeal as the world suddenly flips upside down and when you get your bearings, you’re on your back, arms pinned above your head, looking up at a very smug Roger. 

“Hello there, love,” he murmurs with a smirk. 

“Prick,” you huff. 

“You love me.” You look away, pouting, trying not to smile. “Y/N, look at me,” he whines, nuzzling his face into your neck. You refuse, the corners of your mouth tilting up against your will. He lets go of your arms. And then plops all of his body weight on top of yours, wrapping his arms around you. 

“Roger!” you wheeze, laughing and hitting his sides. “Get off of me!”

“Love meeeee,” he says, voice muffled as his face is buried in the crook of your neck. Letting out an exaggerated sigh, you grab his face with both hands to bring it up to yours. 

“You’re a big baby, you know that?” He gives you a loud, wet kiss in response before pressing kisses all over your face, your neck, your collarbones. You squeal and laugh. Love and warmth and adoration hazy in the morning air. 

You both lay in bed for a while as if you had all the time in the world, soaking in the feeling of one another––soaking in each other’s presence. He plays with your hair as you rest your head on his chest. His warmth coupled with his heart’s steady beating making you sleepy again. 

“Roger?” you ask, tilting your face up at him. Voice soft as you absentmindedly draw little shapes on his skin. The morning light streaming in through the gauzy curtains makes him look like an angel. 

“Mmm?” he asks, his eyes half closed. 

“Promise we’ll always be together?” you whisper, the diamond ring sitting on your finger feeling especially heavy. Opening his eyes, he sits up. He cups your face, pure, unadulterated love filling his heart. 

“Always,” he whispers back before ducking down to connect your lips. And in this moment, he knows that you’re the one who he was waiting his whole life for––who he’ll now spend his whole life with. Promises himself that he’ll never let you go––that he’ll always be by your side. And in this moment, you know that this man is the love of your life, and you know for certain that nothing will ever take him away from you. 

His eyes are closed and his brows are creased with pain. Stumbling towards you, his arms are raised in front of him as if he’s reaching out for you. But you stare resolutely at your hands, aggressively picking the hangnail on your finger. 

“Y/N, look at me please,” he whispers hoarsely. You snap your head up.

“No. I’m done. We are done,” you hiss. The tears have stopped. Now you just feel––empty. Spent.  

“Darling, please, it was a mistake,” he begs. “I love you––”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare say that to me.”

“Y/N––”

“YOU PROMISED.”

“I know, god, I know. And I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” 

“Get out.”

“What?”

“I said. Get. Out,” you say as you begin throwing his stuff––his bag, his sunglasses, his jacket––out the door. 

“And take this,” you say, ripping the ring off your finger and throwing it at him. He catches it, his heart broken. He looks at you, desperation on his face, and you turn away. 

“You promised,” you whisper as he leaves through the front door. 

Permanent taglist:

@thefirstkillerqueen @hysterical-queen-trash @clara-who @ladycataztrophe @ghost-in-love

When Things Fall Apart PART 4 [ROGER TAYLOR x READER]

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: You and Roger fall out of love, but is it possible for you guys to fall back into love? 

Word count: 1378

Contains: NERVOUS ROGER, a little bit of awkwardness

A/N: I dont really have much to say right now, so….Enjoy!! Oh also, I would love some feedback on this series/or any of my other writing pieces! 

PART ONE // PART TWO // PART THREE

“Hey Y/N?” you turn around once again. “Would you––would you want to have some breakfast together some time?” he asks. You pause.

“Yeah––yeah, I would love to,” you say. “And Mrs. Clarkson––make sure your schedule is free next week because I’m taking you to a nice dinner––I’m being serious!” you call out, hearing her warm laughter follow you out the door and to the sidewalk.

“Such a nice girl,” Mrs. Clarkson says. Roger makes a noise of agreement as he watches you walk to your car. She raises her brows at him.

“You know, it was nice seeing you both together again,” she says carefully while grabbing his order.

“Yeah, yeah it was.”

You finally reach the breakfast spot (Roger called you the night after you saw him and set up a time and place) and park on the street across from it. Getting out of the car, you take a deep breath, smooth down your dress, and since there aren’t many people around (it’s pretty early on this Saturday morning), you immediately spot Roger’s blonde hair in front of the restaurant.  

“Hey,” you say once you meet him in front of the small café. He stares at you for a beat too long, specifically staring right at your dress. You blush a little. I should’ve just went with the jeans and tee shirt, you think, mentally slapping yourself on the forehead. 

Did she wear that on purpose? Roger thinks, heart going a bit faster seeing you in his favorite dress––the dress that he actually bought you when you two were dating. 

“Rog, you okay?” you ask, amused, which snaps him out of his thoughts.

“Sorry love––nice to see you,” he says, giving you a peck on the cheek. You stiffen a bit––not in discomfort––more in surprise. He pulls away in surprise as well. He opens his mouth to say something but gets cut off. 

“Hello, how may I help you?” the hostess asks, and the of you two are then ushered into the café. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you apologize as you’re led to the small table in the corner of the room. What you don’t tell him is the reason that you’re late: you spent an obscenely long time in the morning trying to figure out what to wear and after a couple of hours and a completely wrecked closet, you just opted to wear a floral sundress you found shoved deep in one of the shelves. 

“No, it’s completely fine, I just got here a couple minutes ago myself,” he says. What he doesn’t tell you is that he in fact, did not get here a couple minutes ago. Having woken up at the crack of dawn and not being able to bear anymore of the waiting, he just left his house way too early and arrived thirty minutes before you were supposed to meet.  

At first, it’s a bit awkward, trying to talk to someone whom you haven’t spoken a word to in almost three years. But as you get some food in your stomachs and the cups of teas get refilled and the cozy atmosphere makes you a little more comfortable, you two soon fall into a nice, familiar, rhythm, similar to how it was before. 

And throughout the breakfast, you’re surprised that you remember his small mannerisms––the way his hands constantly move while he talks or the way he gently drums his fingers onto the table. 

And you’re surprised to find out that he still remembers your little quirks as well. The way you like your tea, “Two sugars and cream, right?” he asks before hailing down the waiter to get those for you or the way he automatically sat down in the chair so that you could sit in the booth side. 

Or the way he gently touches your knee under the table to stop you from bouncing it up and down. The gesture so familiar that you almost forget that this is the first time you’ve seen him since the split. Almost. You almost forget because the fact of the matter is that you two haven’t seen each other in three years. And it may seem familiar, but it still feels strange and alien as well. And it seems as if he realizes this too for the second after he places his fingers on top of your jiggling leg, he jerks his head up with a look of horror across his face. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean––I wasn’t really thinking about it––” You smile, a bit endeared by his panic.

“It’s really fine, Rog,” you say with a reassuring smile. He blushes. 

Besides that little “blip”, the rest of the breakfast goes smoothly. 

––––––––––

“Remember when you accidentally set off the fire alarm in the apartment, and Mrs. Nelson tried whacking you with her mop?” you ask, laughing. 

“Hey! That was a serious incident––she nearly took my head off!” he says laughing along. You clutch at your sides as tears spring in your eyes. The other patrons in the small café shoot you two dirty looks, but you don’t care.

He tells you stories of his time on tour. 

“There was this one night where I accidentally dyed my hair green, and I had to play the whole show with that god-awful hair!”

“You could’ve used baking soda and water! Would’ve gotten it out like that,” you say with a snap. He groans, hitting his forehead with his hand, and you giggle. 

“Wish you were there––Brian practically had to push me onto the stage while Freddie and John were just watching and laughing.”

“Aww, I really miss them,” you say, clasping your hands together. 

“Yeah, they miss you, too.” 

––––––––––

You both end up staying at the café for way longer than you expected. Once your teas got cold and remained cold for quite a long time, the waiter walks to your table, about to kick you out for overstaying. But Roger quickly orders another pot of tea and one more chocolate croissant that you know you’ll both barely pick at. The waiter narrows his eyes but nonetheless goes to the kitchen. 

“I dont think he likes us very much,” Roger whispers too loudly behind his hand. You laugh into your napkin before shushing him, and he grins. 

––––––––––

“This was really fun,” you say after you finally paid and left the restaurant, “We should do it again sometime.”

“Yeah! Since I just got off tour, I’ll be here for quite a bit…just let me know when you want to meet.” He checks his watch. “Oh shit, I’ve got to run, but see you soon!” he says with a hug before jogging over to his car. 

“Call me!” you yell back with an exaggerated wink. You hear his booming laughter from across the street. He blows you a kiss, ridiculously puckering up his lips, before stepping into his car. People around you stare, but you don’t care. Don’t notice. And for a moment, it was as if nothing had changed. That you hadn’t broken up. That these three years haven’t happened. You chuckle to yourself and feel an unexpected fluttering in your chest. You don’t recognize the feeling though, and you simply attribute it to the sort of happiness one gets after reconnecting with an old friend. 

When you get back home, you flop onto your bed, a feeling of content settles within you. You smile.

––––––––––

Roger walks into the recording studio, drumming his fingers against his thighs. 

“What’s got you so happy?” Brian asks from the couch as he spins a pencil around. 

“Hm?”

“Oh Rog––please don’t tell me you took that girl from a couple of nights ago home.”

“Wait what––no––I just had breakfast with Y/N.” Brian looks up from his paper, setting his pencil down.

“Y/N?”

“Yep.”

 “Like Y/N Y/L/N? Like your ex-girlfriend Y/N?” he asks.

“Yes…” Brian gives him a look. “I saw her in Lily’s Bakery and invited her to have breakfast, so we could catch up…what’s wrong with that?”

“I guess nothing…but I mean, she is your ex.”

“And it’s been three years. She looked really happy when I saw her, and I can assure you that we’re both very much over it. She was my best friend and––and I kinda forgot how nice it is––talking to her.” Brian looks at him for one more second before shrugging and going back to his song lyrics. Once Freddie and John arrives, they all start working on a new song in the studio. 

But while Roger’s drumming, the only thing he could think of is you. Freddie yells at him to pay attention after he messes up for the seventh time that hour. But he’s completely lost in his thoughts as he replays moments from breakfast over and over in his head, his heart warm in his chest. 

Permanent taglist:

@thefirstkillerqueen @hysterical-queen-trash @clara-who @ladycataztrophe @ghost-in-love

WHEN THINGS FALL APART Taglist:

@perriwiinkle @professionofviolence @wint-er-voices @soulmates8 @borhapqueen92 @dreamer7black @ma-ntequilla @benhardyjones @discodeakyy @aylinnmaslow @yyyycykaaaaaaa  @nasa-freak​ @majorlyextra @maem-rae @nowisours-nowisforever

It baffles me that a person can be this pretty. It truly, truly baffles me.

I sometimes really wish I was a ham and cheese sandwich.

do you want the clip where he’s chewing and freddie’s talking about selling the van and roger goes “i hOpE yEr jokEng” or the part where he’s going “this is bullocks” then “and i’m eating a hAm sandwich” or that entire scene with both?

the “I'm eating a hAm sandwich” part

I love how Freddie rolls up like, “Oh hey, didn’t see you there!” and then proceeds to fanboy on them “You’re Smile! Because you’re a dentist! And you’re an astrophysicist so you’re clever! I totally did not expect to find you, my favorite band, for whom I’ve written songs and made long-term plans for here, on a night like tonight! Wow what a coincidence!”