#ben hardy reader insert

[supercap2319]

"Ow, Y/N! I can't believe you blasted me. My wings are going to be sore tomorrow." Warren complained.

A practice match in the danger room pitted the two mutants against each other. Warren commented that Y/N should stop holding back and really try to hit him. And he did. A flick of his wrist, and he blasted Warren out of the air and onto his wings. Needless to say, he wasn't happy about it.

"You told me to." Y/N protested. "It's not my fault for giving you what you asked for."

"I didn't think you'd actually do it."

"You know for a guy who used to do a lot of mutant cage fighting and worked for Apocalypse; you sure like to bitch a lot."

"Fuck you."

"You wish you could." Y/N smirks.

[stray-kaz]

Masterlist

Fandom works! So much here...

All reader inserts are female.

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

T.L.C.

Girl Dad

Reds and Whites

Not Even a Candle

Reparations - 18+

Prologue   One   Two   Three   Four

Snow & Ice - 18+

One   Two   Three   Four   Five   Six   Seven   Eight   Nine   Ten   Eleven   Twelve   Thirteen

Frank Castle

Kiss Cam

A Touch of Crazy

Brothers In Arms

Frank Castle x Family headcanons

Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner

Time and Time and Time Again - 18+

A Baby Shower for Frankie

Two Pink Lines

Two to Tango - 18+

Baby Talk

Paper Ring

Blooded

The Opposite of Soft - 18+

Gone Off Half Cocked - 18+

Butterflies On Fire

A Stitch in Time

Look Where You’re Going

I Do

Matt Murdock

On Blind Faith - 18+

ONE   TWO   THREE   FOUR   FIVE   SIX   SEVEN   EIGHT   NINE   TEN

Headcanons

Steve Rogers

I Love You, But... - 18+

Shadow and Bone

Jesper Fahey

A Better Distraction - 18+ - Completed

One   Two   Three   Four   Five   Six   Seven   Eight   Nine   Ten   Eleven Twelve

Kiss & Tell

A Good Shot

Ruse

Little Lantsov

An Unexpected Prince - sequel to Little Lantsov

Tender

Trigger

Swap With Me - 18+

He’s A Criminal and He’s Mine

Safe Inside, Out of the Rain

Laundry Day

The Law of Loss

You’re The Reason I Hate Champagne

There Goes My Life - An Assortment

One Two Three Four Five Six

Mal Oretsev

Twice Wounded - sorta 18+

Nikolai Lantsov

Patched - 18+

All Patched Up - 18+ - sequel to Patched

Monkey in the Air

Daddy and The Fox

To Be His Queen - 18+

Kaz Brekker

Stray - request prompt

A Murder of Crows - Miniseries

Part One Part Two

Memento Mori - request prompt

Green - request prompt

Love is a Battlefield

Set, Charge, Boom

The Magpie Verses - Completed

Take Off The Mask , Caught , The Crow and The Magpie , Unmasked

Aleksander Morozova

Trouble Just Walked In - sorta 18+

Matthias Helvar

Scrubbed Clean

Tolya Yul-Bataar

Awoken

Top Gun: Maverick

Bob Floyd

A Soft Landing - 18+

Red Flag Week

Baby. On. Board.

Jake Seresin

Out of Bounds I, II, III, IV, V, VI - 18+

Bradley Bradshaw

Jukebox Jive

Lockwood and Co.

George Karim

Death and Doughnuts

A Personal Experiment - 18+

Stuck in the Middle With You - 18+ - requested

Oh Dear Baby - fic idea from @the-biscuit-agreement​

Oh How Time Flies - sequel to Oh Dear Baby​

Ghosts I Get, People Are Crazy

Anthony Lockwood

Between a Tree and a Lockwood - sorta 18+

Honey, I’m Home - 18+

Delirium

His Mistake

The Invitation

Walt de Ville

The Flower and The Serpent - 18+

one    two   three   four   five   six   seven   eight   nine   ten

Little Women (2019)

Laurie

Sugar & Spice - 18+

one

two

Zombies (Disney)

Zed Necrodopolis

Awkward Question

Betwixt

Midnight Resolution - 18+

Leo Grande

Three Day Hire - 18+

One   Two   Three   Four   Five   Six   Seven

A Very Grande Christmas

Austin!Elvis

Sky High

The School for Good and Evil

Rafal Mistral

The Sky Is Falling

Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall

Under The Blood Moon - 18+

The Heirloom and The Heir

Evil, Be Mine

You Shall Be Loved

Rhian Mistral

The Storian’s Favour

Back from the Brink

Bubbles

To Sleep and Not To Wake

Ben Hardy Characters

Billy / Four

Hold Me Close, Don’t Let Go - 18+

The Witcher

Istredd

Chasing Fire - 18+

One Piece Live Action

Roronoa Zoro

Buoyant

A Book and A Nap

Starless - 18+

First Kiss, Last Kiss

Keeping Watch - 18+

Double The Bounty - 18+ - Part One  Part Two

Sanji

Tall Blond Pacifier

Sand and Stars

Wind and Rain - 18+

Monkey D. Luffy

First Blushes

Usopp

In The Moment

OPLA Men

Dance With Me

Christmas Drabbles 2023

Scent of Pine - Shanks

Neatly Tied With A Bow - Mihawk

Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice - Sanji

The Perfect Excuse - Zoro

Fullmetal Alchemist

Edward Elric

Happy Birthday To You

Rest and Recuperation - 18+

Tale of the Nine Tailed

Lee Yeon

Need - 18+

Sweet Home

Cha Hyun-su

Sunshine Part One - 17+

Let Me Do It

A Shop For Killers

Jeong Jin-man

Breathing

Time - 18+

Misc.

Ready or Not - 18+

Original Writing

Top Drawer

Quiet Peace

The Hat - 18+

Pirate Intro

Sweetness

Bandaged

The Uncanny Counter

So Mun

Oops!

Love & Pragmatism

To Spar or Not to Spar

Wong Yeok

Illicit - 18+

[queenborhapreaderships]

Hey :) could you do a headcanon about Ben cheating on reader?

well this is pretty much fic length. oops. how do i keep accidentally writing fanfiction??? i feel like that’s not a thing that should happen to people??? also fair warning, this is not a happy fic/headcanon/hot mess. there’s also some platonic rami/reader in here because i’m a hoe for the boi. 

It started like any other day. You wake up next to the love of your life. You roll over to face him and as his gorgeous green eyes flutter open, your heart skips a beat. It never ceases to amaze you how much he still affects you. It’s like an eternal honeymoon phase, whenever you see him you get butterflies. You lean in to give him a quick peck, despite him groggily moaning about morning breath. You couldn’t be bothered by it, you love him too much to skimp your morning kiss.

You want to get out of bed just about as much as he does, but you know that he’s got a big day ahead of him. It’s the last day of filming Bohemian Rhapsody, so there’s a huge cast party tonight. He groans and rolls over, digging his head back into his pillow. You smile, he’s precious. He doesn’t seem like he’s moving so you lay his clothes out and trek downstairs to make the two of you breakfast.

He finally stumbles down the stairs, the clothes you laid out are haphazardly thrown on and his hair is sticking up in every direction. You grin and walk over to give him a proper kiss. You can feel him grinning into it and wrapping his arm around your waist. You giggle, but tell him he’s got to hurry up and eat breakfast, he’s already running late. You can tell he’s less than pleased but he thanks you for making his favorite.

Once he’s finally ready, the two of you head off to start your day. You usually don’t go to work with him, but today’s different. You want to be there to see everyone together for probably one of the last times. You’ve gotten close with the other boys and some of the members of the crew so you’d like to see them off.

You’re the closest with Rami and to some extent Joe, just because of how close the two of them are. You’ve hung out with them alone on occasion but you know Ben doesn’t love it when you do so. Which to be honest, rubs you the wrong way. You want him to trust you, but you don’t know what else you can do to prove your loyalty to him.

When you arrive on set, you’re met with big hugs from everyone, all of your friends. The atmosphere is absolutely buzzing, everyone is nervous, excited, and a little sad for everything to be ending. You know there’s still a while before the movie comes out, it’s just the end of an era in a way. Seeing everyone all together will be a whole escapade and everyone’s gotten used to this little makeshift family.

The day carries on like normal, there aren’t many tears until the end. The last scene where the camera circles Freddie, and Rami, ever the professional, nails it every time. Before the last take, the entire cast and crew have been gathered up to cheer him on. You’ve got Ben by your side, arm protectively wrapped around you. When the director shouts cut, cheers erupt from the crowd. The look of shock on Rami’s face makes you smile. You’re really proud of him. You’re proud of everyone and you’re super excited to spend time with them tonight.

When the time finally comes, you’ve put on your best casual dress. If you’re being honest with yourself, this isn’t really your scene, Hollywood parties. You love Ben and you love your friends so you wouldn’t miss it for the world. You just know that you’re bound to feel a little out of your element.

You sigh and your eyes are pulled away from your scrutiny of yourself when you hear Ben enter. He looks handsome. Like he was born for this. Hell, he probably was. You shoot him a grin and he tells you that you look gorgeous. You blush and look away. He’s not having any of it, he comes up to you and gingerly places his hand on your cheek and once again, slower this time, tells you that you’re gorgeous. He’s so genuine and it makes you happy. You give him a quick peck on the lips and tell him that he looks incredible. He chuckles and thanks you, striking a pose.

Once the two of you finally arrive at the party, it’s already kicked off. Ben made the two of you late. Again. You’re not too upset, considering he’s one of the main actors, he can get away with almost anything and everyone would still love him. For good reason too, he’s something special. You feel so lucky to be dating someone as wonderful as him. You stick around him for the first half hour or so, the two of you chatting on the outskirts, drinks in hand. You wouldn’t have it any other way, to be quite honest.

He eventually gets pulled away by some of the producers to talk business, you understand, of course, so you face the crowds in search of your friends. It’s Rami you find first, he shouts your name happily and opens his arms, pulling you into a huge hug. You hug back and laugh into his chest, telling him it’s good to see him too.

You two drink, dance, and laugh for the rest of the night, with many others joining in. You can’t help but notice that you haven’t seen Ben in a while. You realize it’s probably fine, but something’s eating away at the back of your mind. It’s frustrating. If Rami, the actor who plays the main goddamn character, can find time to spend with you, why can’t your own boyfriend? You think he can sense that something is off with you because he gives you a sympathetic look and pulls you off to the side so the two of you can catch your breath.

He asks what’s wrong and you just tell him that you miss Ben. He smiles and wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. He tells you that he understands and that frankly, he should probably find Lucy and spend some time with her before the night is over. While he’s walking away, he pauses to turn back and face you. He tells you to go find your man. You smile and head off to do just that.

Unfortunately, the party is winding down and you can’t find Ben anywhere. You’ve looked, you’ve called and texted him, you’ve asked around and turned up with absolutely nothing. You’re outright mad at this point. He takes you to this party and spends all of 30 minutes with you. You expected more out of him. You’re lucky that you drove and kept the keys on you because you’re done with this. You say goodbye to everyone, there are many hugs and numbers exchanged before you get to drive to your and Ben’s flat.

You make your way up the stairs and instantly realize that something is off. The door isn’t shut all the way and when you open it, Ben’s suit jacket is crumpled at the floor. You slowly set your purse down and make your way carefully throughout the house. There isn’t another sign of Ben anywhere. That is until you get to your bedroom. You’ve got a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach that you’ve been ignoring all night. Now it’s unmistakable. You take a deep breath and poke the door open.

What you see shatters your heart. You quickly place a hand over your mouth to stifle the gasp. There he is, the love of your life, wrapped up in bed with the actress who plays John’s wife. They don’t hear you come in, but when Ben picks her up and shifts their position, he sees you. You’ve got so many things running through your mind right now, you can’t seem to focus on one. When you make eye contact, he freezes. The girl looks up to him and asks what’s wrong. She follows his eyes and also notices you.

Before you can even begin to process what is happening you need her out. Through gritted teeth, you politely ask her to get the fuck out of your bed and the fuck out of your flat. She timidly gathers up her clothes and slinks away. Now on to him. He hasn’t said anything yet. He looks too shell shocked to speak, which isn’t fair. He’s not allowed to be shocked when he made this decision to his own accord.

You don’t know what’s happening until you realize you’re screaming. Everything just comes tumbling out at once. First and foremost, how dare he? How dare he doubt your loyalty when he goes and does this? How dare he bring her to your home? In your room? In your goddamn bed? How dare he string you on this entire time, for years, having you believe he loved you? He tries to cut in there, telling you that he’s always loved you and you interrupt him. You tell him that he doesn’t and there’s nothing he can do to convince you that he does because the damage has been done. He’s made his decision and it wasn’t you.

You’re overwhelmed and you can’t bear to look at his stupid, gorgeous fucking face any longer. You rush out of the room, grabbing your phone off the kitchen counter, and escape. You run. You run until your legs practically give out from under you. You don’t know where you are, so you sit down under a tree and cry for the first time since discovering him. You cry for what he did to you, for all of the broken promises. You cry for what could’ve been, what should’ve been if he could’ve just kept his dick in his pants.

But a treacherous part of you, in the back of your mind, is telling you this is good. That you two never could’ve truly been anything great if this is who he was this whole time. Unfaithful. If he did it once, who knows how many times he has done it throughout the course of your relationship. There is one thing you do know to be absolute fact because of this. Ben Hardy is a damn good actor.

You don’t know what else to do, so you give Rami a call and explain the situation. He asks where you are and you have to get up to find a roadsign. He’s there in a heartbeat, hugging you and letting you cry. He’s running his hands through your hair and telling you that it’ll all be okay, even though it feels like it won’t. You look up at him and notice the unshed tears in his eyes. Just for a moment, just for a small moment, you believe him.

[taisiabelle]

Doctor: How many sexual partners have you had?

Me, who reads smut fun fictions about different characters on daily basis…

[acciotwinz]

Long Distance ~ R. T.

Roger can't sleep and calls a random number left of a napkin. He expected to find someone to help tire him out. He never thought he'd find love.

[Reposting and major editing of an old fic I had posted on an old blog & crossed posted on ao3]

Warnings: SMUT, +18 ONLY - MINORS DNI; swearing & cursing; unclear timeline (lmao); Brian is a bit of a douche. It's a long ass one, over 20K words. Read at your own risk!

Sometimes, being a rockstar isn’t all it’s cooped up to be.

Especially when on a world tour because it really has a way of derailing one’s internal clock. It’s the reason Roger can’t sleep. He had been hopeful that between the jet lag, the excitement of being back in his own bed, the hectic rehearsal and recording schedule as well as the copious amounts of alcohol he’d consumed at the local dive bar with his mates would be enough to tire him out. Apparently, he’s very mistaken.

He'd done what he usually does: counts sheep, lays in the dark, read the really boring book Brian has suggested. Nothing seems to be working this time around.

For what feels like the thousandth time, Roger turns over in his bed. He almost misses those rock-hard mattresses and non-existent pillows in the hotels around the world. He groans, casting his eyes to the red numbers glowing in the dark room. It’s nearing 1.30am and as much as his body is begging for sleep, his mind wouldn't shut off.

Throwing the light blanket to the side, Roger swings his legs off the bed. There’s no point in laying around, letting his frustration build. He eyes his discarded jacket, deciding that a quick smoke might help him relax just enough to be able to finally fall asleep. Stretching his arms above his head, his back cracks and with a loud sigh, quickly followed by a loud yawn, he lazily crosses his bedroom to reach the jacket he left by the door, fishing his half-empty pack of cigarettes from the pocket. As he rummages around the pockets for his lighter, a crumpled piece of paper flutters to the ground.

With furrowed brows and cigarette dangling from his lips, Roger picks it up from the ground. After having found the lighter, Roger starts walking towards his bed. Lighting the cigarette, he takes a deep drag, letting his lungs fill with nicotine, immediately giving him a sense of calm.

Feeling more relaxed, Roger clamps his teeth gently around the filter, using his now free hands to uncurl the piece of paper. Once he sees the hastily scrawled digits, his lips stretch into a massive grin.

Taking another drag and flicking the ash into the empty ash-tray on his bedside table, he tries to recall when the number was slipped into his pocket. It had to be from earlier that evening as the number had the London area code and he hasn’t worn the jacket on tour as he’d forgotten it at home. However, no matter how hard he thought back to his evening, no specific girl sprang to mind. There had been quite a few that came to chat him and the lads up, but none of them stood out. He doesn’t even remember being particularly flirty with anyone of them.

Roger casts another quick glance at the clock. It’s still early enough that if the girl really was out at the dive bar with them, she’s probably getting home now as he left much earlier than regular, hoping that the jetlag and general exhaustion would lead to a good night sleep.

Deciding that the woman had clearly hoped for a call from him, Roger picks up the receiver and dials the number. Making himself comfortable, he waits for someone to pick up.

It rings much more than he thought it would and he debates if maybe he shouldn’t be calling this late, if it’s better to try again during working hours.

Suddenly, the phone stops ringing, and there is a very groggy and angry voice coming through the line, “Someone better be dead.”

Rogers chuckles. “Well, hello to you too love”.

In response, he only hears a groan and it sounds so deep that he questions if he’s actually speaking to a girl.

“Who is this? And why on earth are you ringing my flat at...” there’s a small pause, as the person on the other line is clearly reaching for something “1.17 in the bloody morning?!”

Roger cringes, closing his eyes as guilt floods his body. He really shouldn’t have called but he really isn’t great at making decisions when tired and slightly inebriated. “I’m sorry, love. Thought you’d want me to call as soon as I found your number.” He hates that he can’t recall a name or even a face.

“I am not your ‘love’!” the girl says angrily, “I have absolutely no clue who you are. Or why on earth you are calling me. I certainly did not give you, my number.”

For a moment, nothing is said on either end and Roger decides d to play it cool, act confident and pretend as if he actually remembers exactly who he’s talking to. “I know we didn't spend that much time together but I -”

“Let me stop you before you start,” she interrupts and Roger can hear her shuffle around, most likely sitting up in her own bed. “I have no idea who you think you are but I can guarantee that I did not give you, my number. And before you ask, no, I don’t have any roommates.”

The girl grunts in discomfort, questioning why she’s entertaining this jackass when she can just hang up and disconnect her phone for the night.

“Oh” the syllable is so sound and dejected that she can’t help but feel a bit sorry for him, even though he woke her at an ungodly hour.

She has no know why she speaks again. “You must have made a terrible impression if some random bird decided to leave you a fake number.”

There’s an offended scoff that comes down the line almost makes up for the unwanted wake-up call. “No girl has ever done that to me. Or would need to do it. I’m a catch, thank you very much.”

“Sure you are, big boy.” She says concededly.

“Are you saying that I’m not?”

She snorts, short and derisive, “I’m sorry to break it to you but it seems that the girl who gave you the number didn’t think you were all that special.”

Roger pouts, stubbing out his long-forgotten cigarette, “You don’t sound all that sorry to me.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m not.”

Roger can’t hep the small laugh that bubbles out, “And would you feel inclined to illuminate me on why?”

“Could it be because some random bloke decided to call me at stupid o’clock trying to get in my knickers?”

“You wish,” and even though she’s never seen him before in her life, she knows he’s smirking.

“Are you really telling me that you weren’t calling in hope of a shag?”

Roger shrugs, deciding to lay down and make himself comfortable, “I’m not going to lie and say I would be unhappy if it happened but that wasn’t the main reason I called.”

She bites, “Why did you call?”

“I…” Roger pauses. Why did he call?

“Are you ok?”

Roger blinks, surprised by the sudden care that seems to colour her voice. “What?”

“I just mean…” she sighs, laying back down and glancing at her alarm clock. “It’s late. Or early, depending on how you want to see it. And your voice sounded a bit off. There must be something on your mind if you think that calling a random stranger in the middle of the night is a good idea.”

She really can’t explain the sudden interest in the man. She doesn’t know him but he sounds so sad, and is clearly lonely. It tugs at her heart in all the best and worst ways. Thank you, childhood trauma.

A small, grateful smile forms on Roger’s face and his voice softens noticeably. “You’re very kind, love. I’m just a bit jet lagged.”

She hums in surprise, “That sounds fascinating! Where did you get back from?”

“That, I’m afraid, is only for friends.” He tuts, “And I don’t even know your name.”

She laughs and Roger’s heart does something weird in his chest that he pointedly ignores.

“Touché”, she’s still laughing. “The name’s Y/N.”

“Lovely name for a lovely voice,” he says softly. “I’m Roger.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Roger.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Y/N.”

There’s a small pause and it would be the perfect moment to hang up but neither seem to want to.

“Well, now that we’re friends, want to share why you’re jetlagged?”

Roger laughs, bringing his free arm behind his neck, “I was in America.”

“Fancy!” She says with a laugh, “What were you doing across the pond?”

“I’m in a band and we were on tour.”

-----

What should have been a one-time thing evolved into something more.

Roger and Y/N find themselves speaking on the phone nearly every day, even when Roger left for tour again.

The first month, it was Roger that called every day. It had started because of a particularly rough day in the studio and remembering the kindness and care in Y/N’s voice, he decided that her friendly voice was what he needed to feel better.

When the second month rolled around, Y/N asked for a way to contact him if she was having a bad day.

And thus, the tradition was born.

It’s been six months now and every time the phone rings, Y/N can’t help the flutter of her heart or the smile on her face. Roger has somehow weaseled his way into her life and she couldn't be more grateful. He’s become her best friend, her confidant, someone she can trust blindly and who would always listen to her and have her back. She feels like she knows Roger better than the people she hands out with daily. They’ve opened up about their lives, their dreams and insecurities. Y/N knows that Roger wants to make it big but he’s afraid that the drugs, the booze and the sex may cloud his mind and stop him from living his dream. He shares how much he loves his band mates but how they tend to get under his skin, especially when writing new music.

Y/N shares how she took over her mother’s bookstore while being an editor on the side to make ends meet. She opens up about her limited social interactions and how she feels like she’s a bit too clingy and overbearing.

They talk about their childhoods and what they do to relax.

The two of them understand each other in such a deep, soulful way that should scare her but only gives her a sense of calm.

Y/N has even come up with a sort of table to help keep on top of the time difference when Roger is traveling. She glances quickly at the alarm next to her bed and is excited to see that Roger should be calling her in a few minutes.

She makes sure her tea is still warm as she fluffs her pillows, settling down on the bed while tucking herself into the blankets. She waits impatiently for the phone to ring and when it finally does, she grins brightly.

“Hello there, rockstar!”

It only takes hearing his voice to know that something is up. “What did they do this time?”

“Who says they did anything?” Roger knows he’s pouting and that his tone is a clear indication that his band mates did indeed do something wrong, but he doesn’t feel ready or willing to talk about it.

“Rog, please don’t.”

They’d done this before: one of them – usually Roger – is in a mood and takes it out of the other, making everyone involved feel like shit by the end of the call. Y/N isn’t sure if she has the energy for it today but has never and will never be truly able to ignore Roger when he’s clearly upset about something.

“I know something is bothering you and I’m almost certain it has something to do with your mates since you were fine before leaving for rehearsal.” There’s a brief pause and Y/n adds softly, “I worry about you.”

Roger sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m fine.” He knows he’s being a bit too short with her and that nothing was her fault, but he can’t really help it. He doesn’t want to deal with it.

“Rog…I…” her mind can’t seem to form the right words to explain the thoughts running through it. She’s well aware of his temper and how it flares up around his mates; how he likes loads of sugar; how he can’t see without his glasses but still refuses to wear them.

Y/N knows that this time, something is different but she can’t really explain why or how without admitting that she feels more than friendship towards the drummer. And she isn’t ready just yet to wear her heart on her sleeve just yet.

She ends up settling for the next best thing. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, I understand. But please, don’t lie to me. I know something is up and I will never force you talk about it.”

Roger sighs in relief, some of his anger evaporation as he finds himself smiling “Thank you. How was your day?”

It’s at times like this, with Y/N talking happily about her day, rambling on and on about things he doesn’t quite understand and people he doesn’t know that he questions how he got so lucky to have gotten a random number that led to having this amazing girl in his life.

“I still can’t believe that no one except Peter Pan warned me about how much it sucksbeing a grown up,” Roger can tell she’s pouting and it makes him laugh.

The laughter however is cut short when she tries asking about his day and the previous night’s concert. “I’m in a rock band. It goes as well as rock concert goes.”

Y/N blinks, surprised by the venom suddenly lacing his tone. “What kind of answer is that?” She tries to keep her tone neutral, not letting it show how affected she is.

“The one I’m giving you.”

They may have been talking for six months but she’s not sure she’ll ever be able to keep up or understand his mood swings. “Why are you taking your shit out on me?! What’s your problem?!”

As understanding as she may be, Y/N has never had much patience for people taking their anger out on innocent bystanders, who just happen to be at the right place for the wrong time.

“You’re my fucking problem!” Roger snaps, voicing raising as he continues, “You ask all these fucking questions and pester me worse than my mother ever has. You’re not her. You’re not even my girlfriend. You’re a stranger that just doesn’t know when to let go.” His chest is heaving as he sits forward on his bed, empty hand curled into a fist. “God, we haven’t even met are you’re already so fucking clingy –”

With tears in her eyes, Y/N hangs up the phone. She tries reasoning with herself. She knows he’s upset, that something got him in this horrible mood but she has nothing to do with that. He’s hurt and wants to hurt others around him and he did succeed, if you ask Y/N. He’d said the one thing that he knew would absolutely shake her confidence and make her feel like garbage. They’d talked about it, multiple times. Roger had even reassured her at every turn that she was absolutely not clingy and that he loved every second they got to spend on the phone together.

He'll apologize when he feels better.

He values you.

You’re his friend.

Y/N keeps repeating these mantras over and over again as she stands on shaky legs, heading towards her small bathroom.

The phone starts ringing but she ignores it. She lets the tears fall, turning on the faucet and splashing some cold water on her face. The phone stops ringing, just to pick up again a few seconds later, confirming her suspicion that it’s Roger trying to get hold of her.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly makes her way back to her bed, sipping on the now lukewarm cup of tea. She glares at the ringing phone, wanting Roger to feel what she’s feeling, even just a bit.

Almost thirty minutes go by before she feels as if she’s got her emotions under control and is ready to speak to Roger, who hasn’t stopped calling since she hung up.

With a deep breath, she closes her eyes and picks up the phone, placing the receiver against her ear.

“I’m so sorry, love!” Roger’s voice floods her system as he stumbles over his words. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Or, I mean I shouldn’t… it isn’t…”

He takes a stuttering breath, collecting himself before he attempts to explain himself again. “You had nothing to do with my shit mood and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m so very sorry. I didn’t mean anything that I said, I just knew that those were things that would hurt you and it isn’t an excuse and I understand if you’re angry and don’t want to talk to me for a while but please know that I am extremely sorry and that I will do whatever I need to for you to forgive me and I’m such an ass. I’m so fucking sorry Y/N. I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”

“Will you now?” He can tell that’s she trying to be upbeat and wants to make him feel better but that isn’t her job. Not this time.

“I swear it, Y/N. On my drumming career. I won’t ever hurt you like this again and whatever you need me to do to get your forgiveness, I will do it. Name your price. Whatever you want, it’s yours. I s–”

“Really? Absolutely anything?”

Roger nods and realising she can’t seem him, he vocalizes his answer.

“Even if I asked you to rob a bank?”

He laughs, tears of joy springing to his eyes. “Just tell me which one.”

The line goes quiet for a few seconds but Roger’s guilt crawls up his throat. “I really am so extremely sorry, Y/N.”

“I know. I forgive you,” her voice is so soft, full of kindness he doesn’t deserve and his heart does some funky fluttering in his chest.

Roger’s shoulders lose their tension as he melts into the hotel mattress. Knowing she isn’t to upset with him and that they’ll be able to jump back from this soothes his fears of losing her. He’s not sure he’d ever be able to get over it if it were to happen.

“I’m sorry too,” she whispers and he can hear how upset she is and if he could transport himself to London to sooth all her fears with a hug he would. His urge to book the first flight out is almost uncontrollable. “I didn't mean to make you feel like I was pushing you to talk about something you didn't want to. I just worry about you, and I can't do anything if not ask what's wrong.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for love.” He shakes his head, clenching his hand against the comforter. Never before has he felt such a strong urge to hold a girl in his arms. His voice grows softer as he smiles gently, wishing her could be by her side. “You were just...just being a good friend. I should have seen that instead of the inside of my own ass.”

Y/N hums noncommittally. When she speaks again, her voice is a bit uncertain but sympathetic, “You've had a bloody terrible day, haven't you?”

“It wasn't exactly one for the books.” Roger can’t help the twinge of anger that laces his tone. He really doesn’t want to get into it, knowing full well he won’t be able to control his temper if he does.

“You're also tired.” It’s not a question. She knows. She always knows.

Roger smiles sadly, heart swelling in affection for the girl on the other side of the line “Yeah, I am.”

She sighs, frowning as she doesn’t want to let him go but knowing that he needs his rest “I should probably let you rest.”

“Please don't hang up.”

It’s Y/N heart’s turn to beat erratically as she grins ear to ear when she realizes that he cares for her as much as she does for him. “Okay.”

“Just for a little while, please.”

His voice is a whisper and she answer in the same tone, “As long as you want, rockstar.”

Roger lets his eyes drift shut, rolling onto his side as he holds the receiver tightly in his hands so he won’t accidentally drop it. He could never seem to get enough of her and he doesn’t even know what she looks like yet. What will happen when they finally meet? One thing he knows for sure is that he won’t be able to keep his hands to himself.

“I’d do just about anything to be with you right now”

Had he not been holding the phone tightly against his head, Roger would have missed it. She had spoken so softly, lovingly.

The blond smiles. “Really? Anything?”

She hums, fanning her heated cheeks as she thanks her lucky stars that he can’t see her. She hadn’t expected those words to slip out of her moth but they’ve been talking for so long and they’d just had their first fight.

“I'd swim across the bloody ocean if I could.” He means so much to her that she really would do anything to cross the distance separating them.

Roger blushes, eyes bright and cheeks hurting because of his blinding smile. She makes him so giddy, “All that work just for me?”

Y/N feels her cheek warming up even more, “You’re worth it.” She wonders how he doesn’t realize just how much he means to her or that she would do anything for him.

He hums to himself, grin never faltering as his minds comes up with all these different scenarios he’d love to make come true. Y/N laughs, almost as if she can read his mind, prompting him to ask what caused his favourite sound of the world.

“I think you might actually like me when we finally meet,” she admits finally, still laughing and it really is the best sound to ever reach his ears.

He feels a blush start to spread across his face as he realizes exactly what she said. Never being one to censor himself, he decides to push their carefully set boundaries. “You know, I sometimes imagine you’re here with me sometimes.”

“Yeah?” her laughter, just like her breath, is cut off abruptly. This is certainly not the turn she thought the conversation would be taking.

The drummer hums his assent, turning so he’s laying on his back, eyes locked on the ceiling as he imagines the girl of his dreams in bed next to him. “Yeah. I don't even have a picture of you in my head or anything...I know it doesn't make sense but –”

“No, it does!” She reassures. She never wants him to think that she doesn’t understand what was going through his mind.

He smiles, “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“What would you do if you were with me, right now?” because he knows exactly what he wishes they could be doing but he needs her to want and imagine the same thing.

“Why?” She has to put a hand over her mouth to stop the squealing his question brought to her lips. Why he makes her feel like a twelve-year-old girl with her first crush is beyond her but she wouldn’t give up this feeling for anything in the world.

“I don't know. It helps me picture you.”

She’s quiet for a second as she thinks over how much she’s willing to say out loud. “I'd make you tea...probably make sure you were all cozy, with plenty of blankets and pillows and the works. You deserve to be pampered.”

No one has ever cared about him as much as she does.

“Then what?” He’s aware he’s being greedy, but he can’t seem to help it.

YN swallows thickly, nervous as she forces herself to talk openly “I'd climb into bed with you. Hold you really close to me. I'd run my fingers through your hair –”

Roger moans, low and almost imperceptibly, at the thought. YN giggles, though she feels a warm ache forming below her stomach when she hears the sound. “You’d like that, huh?”

“Fuck yes.” His voice is hoarse and tired and it really isn’t doing much to help the situation between her legs. Y/N shifts on the bed, clenching her thighs while trying to concentrate on anything but the grovelling and sensual sound of his voice.

“What else?” He wants the conversation to take a specific turn but he’s beginning to get extremely drowsy and his voice betrays that.

Y/N smiles at the sudden sleepiness in his tone and her mouth goes dries as she tells him what has been on her mind for at least a few weeks now, maybe more. “I think...I think then I might have to kiss you, Rog.”

The line is strangely quiet and for a moment, she thinks she’s taken things too far and has completely misread the situation.

Roger gives a dopey, sleepy smile, hope filling his chest with a warm feeling. His voice is nearly a whisper in the receiver, “Where would you kiss me?”

She chokes back a sob, relief flooding her system as he doesn’t seem to mind the idea of her kissing him. In fact, she realizes with a start, he’s egging her on. “Maybe your shoulders...or your tummy.”

Roger hums wantonly into the phone as his mind conjures up the images she’s barely describing.

“Where would you want me to kiss you, Rog?”

The question is enough to wake him up. Roger groans, his voice huskier than a few moments ago “I can think of a few places.”

Y/N blushes, stuttering while trying to come up with a response while getting far too hot under the collar for her own good. Just as she’s opening her mouth, she hears a knock sounding through the phone.

Roger barely manages to hold back an angry curse as he gets up to open the hotel door, receiver still held against the side of his face. When he sees Brian, he rolls his eyes, “What do you want?”

Brian flinches at his friend's tone, holding up a tray of food as he grumbles “Fred wants to make sure you eat something before going to sleep.”

“Thanks, but I'm not hungry!” he responds before closing the door in the guitarist's face. He hears a faint mumble of "Whatever" as Brian heads back to his own room.

“Y/N –” he speaks, hoping against all odds that the mood hasn’t been completely lost. He needs to know what her answer is. Does she want to do to him all the things he wants to do to her?

“You should get some sleep, Rog.”

Roger wants to punch Brian for ruining what could have been the best night of his life so far. He was so close to getting somewhere with this amazing girl and that twat ruined his mood once again. He clears his throat, trying to not let tears of frustration gather in his eyes. “Y-Yeah...Yeah. You're right. I'll call you when I wake up?”

Y/N smiles warmly, quickly drying the single tear that had fallen at their lost moment, “I'll be here.”

Roger's chest buzzes. He whispers a faint 'Sweet dreams love' and waits for her reply before hanging up. He sighs, arm over his eyes.

One day, that girl will be his and he will be hers.

—————----------------------------------

“So” her friend drags out the ‘o’, looking at Y/N with pursed lips, “You like him.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, bringing the fuming cup of tea to her lips. She knows she’s just buying herself a few seconds as she debates how to actually address this whole thing. She knew she’d regret telling her best friend about Roger and their unorthodox friendship – or is it a relationship? Y/N shakes her head, aware of the piercing stare locked on her. She also knew that talking to Winnie would be a double-edge sword but she really needs to talk to someone about this whole Roger thing, just to make sure that it isn’t all in her head and that he too feels something for her. And to make sure it isn’t just some fever dream her mind has conjured in answer to her stress levels being through the roof.

It's been over a year since their first conversation. Roger has travelled the world and made his way back to England just to leave again but they had yet to meet. Y/N is starting to think that he might be ashamed of her. That, or he’s hiding who he really is.

“So what if I do?” Her cheeks start to colour as she avoids looking at the person across from her.

Winnie scoffs, shaking her heard “It's worse than I thought.”

Y/N's jaw drops at the remark, chest feeling a bit tight. “What do you mean by that?”

Winnie rolls her eyes, “I haven't seen you blush this much since...Well, I've actually never seen you blush this much. You've gone completely pink.”

Y/N's eyes fall to the table. She can feel her cheeks growing even pinker and hates her friend for being right.

“Y/N/N…” Winnie says with a frown, “I've got to be honest, here. I don't like it. At all.”

Y/N’s heart sinks. She never thought her friend wouldn’t approve of Roger and the words are like a knife to the chest. Sure, she knew that Winnie would be a bit skeptical but she never thought she’d be so against the idea of Roger. “W-Why not?”

Winnie doesn’t want to be harsh or hurt Y/N in any way but she also doesn’t want her best friend to get her hopes up and then her heart broken by a complete stranger. She reaches her hand across to the table and covers her friend’s. “Y/N… Just think about it rationally for a moment. The bloke calls you in the dead of night. You have no idea where he got your number or who he is and he's already trying to get in your pants –” Y/N opens her mouth to argue but Winnie talks over her. “How do you know he's not 70, huh? He could be anyone, Y/N. He could be your dad, for Christ’s sake!”

YN cringes, holding her head in her hand as she rubbed her temples. She feels utterly defeated. And a bit naïve. Even if she explains every detail to Winnie, she wouldn’t understand.

Winnie sighs, “What if he's got nothing to offer?”

Y/N clenches her jaw, anger boiling in the pit of her stomach. She knows it isn’t fair to be mad at Winnie. That her friend is only trying to look out for her. Still, she feels the urge to protect Roger and their whatever-this-is. “When has that ever been a problem for me? And that's just it, Win. He does...He offers me so much every day and he never expects anything back. He's kind to me...and he's silly and warm and sweet and–”

Winnie's expression softens as she sees the tears burning in Y/N's eyes as she takes Y/N's hands in hers again. However, she doesn’t back down, “You don't even know his last name.”

Y/N sniffles, refusing to let a single tear roll down her face. She takes a deep breath. “I don't really see where the problem is in that.” Winnie's brows knit together and Y/N crosses her arms, “He doesn't know my last name, either. It's not like I'm asking him for anything, Win. He's just great to talk to. He's kind and funny.... he’s smart. Wickedly smart, but he doesn't know it.” Y/N laughs breathlessly, getting lost in her memories of all their conversations. “Acts like this tough, careless thing sometimes but he's so soft on the inside. So good to me. He has the sweetest little laugh, too...gets all croaky when he's tired.”

Winnie squeezes Y/N's hand comfortingly, giving her a sympathetic smile. Realizing that nothing she says is going to change Y/N’s mind, she says softly “Just take care of yourself. That's all I ask.”

Y/N’s responding smile is as bright as the sun, “He's good. I know it. I can feel it. I’m going to be fine as long as I have him.”

“I hope so for you, darling. You deserve some happiness.”

Y/N takes another deep breath, reaching for her cup of tea.

Winnie grins too, “Just know that if he hurts you, I'll have his head. I don't care how old he turns out to be.”

Y/N laughs, rolling her eyes. “Thank fuck I know you've got my back, Win.”

---------------------

Roger is so lost in his thoughts that when John sits down beside him on the small sofa of the tour bus, he flinches, knocking over his beer. John laughs at him, passing him a dirty shirt from the floor to help clean the mess. Roger mumbles a quick "thanks mate" before trying to dry the small table.

“You okay mate?” Brian asks from his spot at the table. The guitarist is barely paying attention to his game of Scrabble with Freddie. For the past few days, he had been paying closer attention to his best friend because something is definitely off. He can’t put his finger on what but he sure as hell is going to find out.

“‘Course I am. Why'd you ask?” Roger is now working on the stain on his trouser, not really listening to his band mates.

Freddie frowns, waiting for Brian to place his next tile and nudges him with a foot under the table to get his attention. When Brian keeps ignoring him, the singer exchanges a quick glance with the bass player, both of them confused about what’s happening.

Brian shrugs, trying to act nonchalant and failing, “You've been acting weird lately.”

Roger's head whips up, eyes zeroing in on the guitarist “What'd you mean?” his tone came out too suspicious and the drummer has a feeling he knows exactly where this conversation was headed.

“You've been extremely well-behaved lately and you spend most of your time holed up in your hotel rooms. What's going on?” Brian decides that beating around the bush wasn’t going to work with the blond.

Roger rolls his eyes, doing his best to hide the smile threating to pull his lips up as he tries to dissuade his friends from asking too many questions or giving them more reasons to be concerned about him. “’S just talking to a friend. No need to get your panties in a twist, old chap.”

“A friend?” Freddie's amused and now feels the need to be part of this conversation, especially if it makes Roger a bit uncomfortable.

The drummer shrugs, his ears going pink as Brian rolled his eyes, already tired of vague answers. “What friend?”

Roger keeps himself busy by wiping the now fully absorbed beer from his pants. “Just a friend.”

John chuckles when he notices how much the lack of tangible information is bother Brian.

“You don't have friends that we don't know!” the guitarist points out.

Roger rolls his eyes, head falling backwards as he drops the shirt to the ground “I do too! We don't do everything together Brian.”

“What's her name, Rog?” Freddie decides to cut to the chase, use to seeing through all of Roger’s bullshit.

The drummer sighs, knowing that the more he tries to get out of this conversation, the more they will pry. He mumbles, “Y/N”

John smiles as Freddie's lights up like a child on Christmas morning. The singer sits forward and leans into the drummer’s line of sight. “And where did you happen upon this friend, hm?”

Roger's cheeks grow pink. He can’t and won’t even try to stifle the pleased smile forming on his lips. Brian’s face pinches in confusion: he's never seen Roger like this in his life. Roger hates when people get all warm and mushy; he always crinkles his nose up with displeasure when John rambles on about Veronica, and yet, here he is, looking as if he’s about to do the same thing.

“If I’m completely honest, I haven't exactly met her in person. Yet.” He confesses sheepishly.

Fred raises his eyebrows, the conversation already taking a turn he didn't expect. “Pardon?”

Roger sighs, rubbing his face as he tries to explain the whole situation as best he can. “We kind of met by accident. Before leaving for tour, I was talking to a girl in a pub back home and well... she gave me a fake number that turned out to be Y/N's.”

John nods, intrigued by the blond's story, “Is it safe to assume you called the number?”

“Yeah.” Roger grins, “Wasn't the bird from the pub, obviously. The girl on the line didn't have any clue who I was. She was pissed, to be honest.” Roger laughs thinking back to the night they met. “She's from London and with the fact that she hadn’t been out and about that night, I accidentally woke her up at one thirty in the morning. She put me in my place for it, too. We started talking after that, I guess.”

Deacy is happy to see his friend so smitten. “How long have you been talking?”

Roger takes a sip of someone's drink, stopping to think. “About a year, I reckon. Maybe a bit more.”

Brian chokes on his own saliva. “A year!? Really?” He looks to the other boys, and even John has his brows raised in surprise.

Roger looks confused, “What?”

“Rog, I don't think I've ever seen you talk to any girl for more than a few hours.” The bass player is quick to point out. “And even when you do, it’s because they’re a good shag.”

Roger frowns, a bit hurt by the comment. He knows he’s never had a serious relationship and that he loves sex but he isn’t some emotionless sex fiend. He is capable of being committed and in a monogamous relationship. He’s just never had the right motivation before. “Tt's not like that.”

Fred smirks, “So you're saying she’s just a friend?”

Roger stutters for a second before falling silent, his face going warmer. “I just… I think she's nice, and easy to talk to.” He knew he wouldn't be able to explain their bond eloquently enough for them to truly understand. It’s more that simple attraction or wanting a relationship. There’s something about Y/N and their bond that he will never be able to explain.

“You realize you broke up with Jo so you could spend more time with your drums? Rog, you're not exactly fantastic at commitment.” Brian feels the need to point out.

Roger’s heart sinks at the lack of support from his friends and wishes he hadn’t let any of this slip. “She's important to me, whether you understand us or not. I want to fly her out here so we can meet –”

Brian scoffs, arms crossing over his chest “You sure she's not just trying to sneak her hands in your pockets, mate?”

Roger is stunned into silence and his temper flares. “What?!”

“How can you be sure that she's not just trying to make a few bucks off you? We make good money now, Rog. People know that.” Again, Brian is pointing something out as if it’s the most obvious reason in the world for a girl to talk with him for so long. Why else would a girl want to spent a whole twelve months speaking to Roger, right?

Roger doesn’t even know where to start or how to respond. The fact that Brian would even imply that YN would ever think about doing something like that is infuriation.

“There are plenty of smart girls out there, mate.” The guitarist carries on, oblivious to the turmoil going through the drummer’s mind. “You've got a keep an eye out for the ones sniffing out gold –”

Roger sees red. “Don't fucking dare finish that sentence, Brian.”

The guitarist rolls his eyes, unimpressed by the drummer's outburst. “All I'm saying is you ought to be careful.”

“I know you think you're smarter than the rest of us but I'm perfectly capable of handling myself.”

Freddie rubs his temples exasperatedly, knowing that this is not going to be the end of the conversation and it’s going to end poorly for all parties involved.

“Roger, you're letting yourself fall in love with this girl and you don’t even know her! She's a complete stranger!” Brian raises his voice, “You've never bloody met her!”

“Fuck off, Brian. You have no fucking idea what or who you're talking about.” Roger slams the bottle against the table and storms off towards the back of the bus “Leave me the fuck alone for the rest of the day.”

----------------------------------

Roger’s eyes blink open as soon as he registers the phone in his hotel room starts ringing. He scrambles for the receiver, nearly falling off the mattress in the process as the sheet tangle in his legs.

It's been nearly a fortnight since he's last spoken to Y/N. It seems the two have less and less time as the summer months have rolled around. There are interviews to do, books to edit, concerts to play, shelves to stock. All their work seems to be never-ending.

“Y/N?” Roger chimes, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He knows that the likelihood of it being anyone else is nonexistent but he always likes to make sure she knows that she’s always his first thought.

“Hi, Rog.” She smiles to herself. Hearing his voice always makes her days better.

Relief washes over Roger's body at the sound of her voice. “God, I've missed you.” He admits, chest aching happily. “Missed you so much. Every day. Fuck, you don't know how good it is to hear your voice.” Roger relaxes against his pillow, playing with the phone chord as his eyes close blissfully.

Tears well in Y/N’s eyes as she tries swallowing around the knot lodged in her throat. “I’ve missed you too, Rog.”

Roger's brow furrow. Her voice’s hoarse, as if she’s been crying. And tired. Immediately he can tell that something’s wrong but he tries clearing the thought from his head, trusting that she would tell him anything she wanted him to know.

“Had a dream about you last night.” He mumbles, smiling at the memory as he tries to make her smile. “I can't remember what you looked like in the dream but it couldn’t have been anyone but you. It felt like you.”

She smiles against the speaker.

Roger eyes furrow as he tries to recall if they’ve ever shared physical details of each other. He knows they’ve shared what’s in their hearts and minds but never have they spoken about what they look like. He needs to know. “How tall are you?”

Y/N doesn’t answer and Roger's worry comes back stronger than before. “Y/N?”

“Hm? What was that Rog?”

The drummer doesn’t like how tired she sounds. They’ve had had their share of bad conversations but she’s never ignored or not answered one of his questions. “How tall are you?”

“Oh... uhm... I guess /your height/.”

It took her too long to answer. Roger bites his lower lip before sighing, knowing that the only way for him to feel better is knowing that she’s okay. “There's something wrong.”

Y/N pauses, finally fully present in the conversation. Her heart beats a bit too quickly in her chest. “W-What?”

“You're not acting like yourself. Something's wrong.” Roger hates how certain of this he is.

She goes silent while trying to hold it all back, but it’s no use. Her face crumbles as she lets out a sob against the receiver. Calling him had been the best and worse decision she made today.

Roger's heart feels like it’s shattering as he fights helplessly to calm her from oceans away.

“Y/N...” He feels stuck. Someone he loves is sobbing and he’s a million miles away. “Y/N, my love, what’s wrong? What's happening?”

His mind is working a million miles a second. It’s been so long since they last spoke, that there are hundreds of things that could have happened. Is she hurt? Did someone she know get hurt? Has the press somehow found out about their conversations and been harassing her?

She chokes on her words, trying to explain as best as she could but her breathing is still too choppy and labored for her to be understandable.

Roger listens as she struggles to breathe and he doesn’t think he’s ever known fear before his moment. The sounds coming from the woman he loves sound painful and he wants nothing more than to hold her and soothe all her pain. “Y/N, my love, just breathe. Can you do that for me? Take deep breaths.” He does what he’s asking her to do so that she has something to mimic. “Just do what I am okay? I'm right here baby.” He keeps his breathing slow and steady, guiding hers until she settles. She wipes the tears from her cheeks, sniffling painfully. Roger wishes he could reach through the phone and scoop her up in his arms. He's trying to figure out how angry the boys – and the label – would be if he were to fly out to her for a few days.

“I had to fire them all.” She admits in a whisper.

His stomach drops, “Who love?”

“My employees... I couldn't pay them anymore.” She starts crying again, her voice breaking and he can barely make out the words tumbling from her lips.

Roger frowns, a thought he doesn’t like pushing to the front of his mind. “Who's been running the store when you aren't there?” Y/N cuts herself off abruptly and when she finally answers, he hates what he hears. “It's just been you. Oh, love, it's just been you all by yourself?”

Her sobs grow louder as Roger hushes her soothingly through the phone as he fights off his own tears. “Oh baby, I'm so sorry.”

“I-I didn't want to. I had to.” Y/N needs him to understand. She really has no other choice and she hates how powerless she is. She’s trying her best to ground herself but everything hurts.

“I know, sweetheart.” He reassures her, “They understand.”

“M-My landlord threatened to evict me and I've got no food in the pantry and I just didn't know what else to do.” She grabs her hair tightly as the pain in her chest increases.

Roger's throat tightens to the point where taking a breath is painful. “Why didn't you say anything, darling? I would have sent you mone–”

'No. No. I don't want to take money from you.” She states resolutely. “That's not fair and it’s not me. I will figure something out.”

He rolls his eyes at her stubbornness. “What's ‘not fair’ is that you're suffering, Y/N.” He pauses, “When's the last time you had a meal? Like, a whole meal, not just a snack.”

When doesn’t Y/N answer, Roger knows that it has been too long.

“I've been eating little things here and there.” She finally admits with a small, fearful voice, “I don't have time to sit and eat at work, anyway.”

“Y/N,” his tone doesn’t allow for any room for her not to answer, “when was the last time?”

She swallows thickly, “A week ago. I think.”

Roger feels like someone has punched him in the throat. His eyes burn as he fights off tears. Now is not the time for him to breakdown. He can do that once he knows she has some food in her system and she’s taken care of. He counts to five and takes a deep breath before speaking again. “Haven't been sleeping either, I bet. I can hear it in your voice. You're exhausted.”

Roger pauses and then add stubbornly, “I'm sending you money.”

Nothing she says is going to change his mind on this. She needs it, he has loads and he will never sit back and let her suffer when he can actively do something to make things easier for her.

“Roger, no.” She counters immediately, “Absolutely not!”

“Y/N, you need it! I want to help you. I need to help you. I need you to be safe and happy and healthy –”

“I can do it, Rog.” She guarantees, “I just need to work harder.”

She’s stubborn but so is he.

He sighs her name. Nothing he says will convince her to take the money. She’s too proud of that but there is nothing she can do to stop him from sending it anyway. Y/N doesn’t need to know until she gets it.

There is one thing that he can’t drop though. “Promise me, and I mean promise me you'll eat and you'll sleep. I want three meals a day and eight hours at night.” Y/N sighs, knowing that keeping that promise is going to be rough but Roger keeps speaking, “I know money is tight and it seems like it's hopeless right now but swear to me that you'll take care of yourself.”

Y/N's voice thickens as she whimpers pathetically. Never had she thought she’d be the kind of girl that needs a man to keep her together, but here she is. “I need you to hold me.”

Pain shoots through Roger's chest and this time, he can’t keep his emotions at bay. Hot tears roll down his cheeks as he tries to not sob too loudly. It hurts. It bloody hurts how badly he wants to be with her.

Roger moves the receiver away from his face, letting out a few sobs before he composes himself. He takes a deep, shuddering breath as his nose burns because of the tears he’s trying – and failing – to hold back. He does his best to keep his voice steady when he speaks to her again, “What if I fly out to you? Just for a few days. I could –”

Y/N’s tears start anew. “I want that, so badly but Rog, baby, you can’t. The tour –”

“To hell with the tour!” he says through gritted teeth, “I don’t care about the bloody tour! I care about you.”

Her breath catches in her throat. They’ve both tiptoed around their feelings, both making it clear that this is more than a simple friendship but never had either of them been so direct. It gives her hope and now, more than ever, she refuses to let him give up on his dream. She will get through this and knowing he’s willing to drop everything to help her is enough.

“I care about you too, Rog.” She admits softly, “But there are so many people counting on you. It’s your dream.”

“Maybe I have a new one” he mumbles. “Okay. If I can’t come to you then I can fly you out.” He needs to see her and make sure, with his own eyes, that she’s really doing better. He can’t lose her.

Y/N sighs wistfully, wanting nothing more than to accept his offer. “You know I can’t. Not right now, at least. The shop –”

Roger curses in frustration. “It’s not fair!”

“I know.”

Silence fills the line. Roger’s anger quickly dissipates and all he’s left with is unrelenting sadness. He feels so unlike himself; pitifiul and needy. He feels as if he needs Y/N more than he needs oxygen.

“Soon,” Roger’s voice breaks the silence, “Promise me. We’ll be together soon.”

Y/N smiles through the tears, “I promise.”

“And promise me you’ll eat and sleep. I need you to take care of yourself.”

“I promise, Rog. I will get as much sleep and food as I can stand.”

“Good.” He swallows thickly, “I… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She lets out a wet laugh, “Good thing is you’ll never have to find out.”

Roger finally relaxes a bit, breathing deeply. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you out of my sights once we meet.”

“I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

---------------------------

Roger keeps his head down, with his visor of the baseball cap pulled down almost over his eyebrows as moves quickly through the city. He’s hoping that between his disguise and Queen still being relatively unknown in the US will help him avoid any run ins with the press. It had been hard enough leaving the hotel without being seen by his mates or any of the roadies. He really doesn’t need word of his morning excursion getting back to Brian.

With a grimace, Roger walks into the American branch of his bank and lines up to speak to a teller.

It takes longer than he would have liked to get all the documents set up and money withdrawn but Roger definitely feels lighter as he steps back out into the sunlit streets and heads to rehearsals. Luckily, he was careful enough that no one noticed his prolonged absence.

The green room is still empty when Roger enters, heading straight for the vanity against the opposite wall. Slipping off his hat, he removes all the bank documents from his back pocket and sits at the mirror. He slides the signed check and bills into the same envelope, setting it aside as he removes his jacket. He definitely feels a lot better knowing he’ll be able to help Y/N in a way that matters and that will make her life easier. It also helps that their conversations have returned to being a daily occurrence, helping him ensure that she is as well rested and fed as she can be. Although she’s doing much better with his support, Roger doesn’t miss the stressed tone or how her work load seems to be constantly growing.

Roger only wishes he had managed to get to a bank sooner though this way, since it’s been a bit over a month since he offered her the money, she shouldn’t suspect anything.

Roger digs around the vanity for a pen and when he finds none, he uses one of Freddie’s eye-pencils and a tissue to write a short message to his girl. He hesitates, casting a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure his friends aren’t going to barge in. He really doesn’t want to try explaining the money or check to them.

Roger sighs, mussing his hair as he tries to put pencil to tissue. There is so much he wants to say but he isn’t even sure where he should start. He knows that no matter what he says, she is going to rip into him so with a chuckle, he scribbles down one line before signing the tissues and placing it delicately inside the envelop with the money and check. He knows he’s doing the right thing, and even if she won’t happy about it, she’ll be grateful.

For once in his life, he’s grateful for his foresight of asking for her full name and address so that he could send small trinkets and post cards when calls aren’t enough.

“Morning, Rog.”

Roger nearly jumps out of the chair, quickly turning to see a confused looking John smiling at him, a cup of coffee in hand.

Roger exhales, laughing at his own reaction. “God, Deacy. You scared the living shit out of me. Didn’t hear you come in.”

John laughs too before sipping his coffee as he takes a seat on the couch. Roger turns back to the envelope, hiding it under his arm.

“Didn’t see you at breakfast this morning, I though you’d still be in bed.” John chimes, brow quirked.

Roger clears his throat, avoiding eye contact. “Just had to um...run some errands is all.”

John nods though he clearly doesn’t believe him. “What are you doing here so early?” The drummer desperately wants to change the subject before he gives himself away.

John shrugs, smiling “I tend to get here early to help the roadies with the amps. I built most of them from older models that'd been trashed so they can be a bit finicky.”

Roger hums in understanding, slipping the envelope into the pocket of his jeans as Brian and Freddie waltz in. The drummer nods at both, fighting back a yawn.

“Sleep well?” Freddie asks with a smirk.

“Not well enough.” Admits Roger, standing from his chair and lazily making his way over to the costume rack. He doesn’t notice the envelop slipping from his pocket when he bends down to look for his converse. Roger curses under his breath, “I’m going to see if I can track down my trainers. I could’ve sworn I left them here yesterday.”

Brian quirks his brow curiously as the drummer trots out the door, stepping forward to snatch the envelope off the ground. Freddie cranes on his tip toes to peek over his shoulder, curiosity lighting up his brown eyes, “What've you found?”

The envelope hasn’t been sealed yet so Brian doesn’t feel too guilty as he snoops. The guitarist runs his thumb over the hastily scrawled name and address, Y/N Y/L/N.

“What’s inside?” The singer asks, hoping it’s a love letter and that he can take the piss out of the usually emotionally constipated drummer.

Brian pulls back the flap of the envelop and frowns when he notices that there’s cash inside. He moves toward the couch where John is sat, quietly observing the situation as it unfolds. The guitarist clears off a small section of the coffee table and dumps the content of the envelop on it. A wad of cash falls with a small thud, as a tissue and slip of paper flutter down after it. He quickly counts the cash and his eye widen in shock. £500. And the piece of paper is a blank check that has been signed and dated with today’s date. The name on the check is the same of the envelop and it finally hits him: it’s the girl Roger had mentioned on the bus.

Don’t be too angry. R

Brian feels like his brain is going to explode. A blank cheque?! He’s sending her a blank cheque! Anger boils in his veins as he tries to comprehend how his best friend of years goes from dumbing his girlfriend of almost ten years in order to become a successful musician to blindly sending money and blank cheques to a complete stranger. Clearly, something has happened because not even Roger would be that stupid.

Brian grips the empty envelop tightly in his hand as Roger wanders back into the room, muttering about his missing shoes.

Brian walks up to Roger where he’s now lounging on the couch next to John and throws it at him. Roger eyes the envelop before his eyes fall to the coffee table.

The blond lets out a frustrated sigh, looking up into Brian's eyes. For this, his reaction angers Brian even more.

“Mind sharing with the group, Rog?” the curly-haired man asks condescendingly. “Mind explaining why your ‘friend’ who isn't taking advantage of you is getting direct deposits?!”

Roger does his best to swallow back all his annoyance, but apparently, Brian isn’t done digging into him. “A fucking blank cheque, Roger!? A blank cheque, really? Are you trying to get robbed?”

Roger can’t even get his explanation fully out of his mouth before Brian cuts him off. “She's lying, Roger! She's a con artist!”

“She's not!”

“And you're giving her exactly what she wants! She'll be laughing all the way to the bank!”

“SHUT UP!” Roger screams, raising to his feet and pushing Brian back. “You've all got spouses or children. I don't. I've got no one to take care of. Tell me what's so fucking criminal about sending some money to help someone I love.”

The three other people in the room are shocked into silence. Never before has the drummer tossed around the l-word so easily. Roger picks up the money and the check from the table, carefully tucking it back into the envelope and smoothing it out.

Roger heads for the door, turning to look back at the group one last time before he leaves.

“If you need me, I'll be buying stamps.”

--------------------------------------------------------

“What the fuck, Taylor!?'

Roger chuckles into the receiver. “Well, hello to you too, darling.” He had been waiting for this call for about a week.

“Do not ‘darling’ me right now. I told you not to send money!” Y/N has rarely experienced such a mix of emotions. Anger, love, humiliation, sadness, helplessness, love. She whines into the phone, tears of frustration welling in her eyes. “Why didn't you listen? I'm not a charity case!” She hates feeling like a burden.

Most of all, she hates how loved and better she felt when she opened the envelope.

The blond frowns. It was never his intention to upset her, “Love, I –”

“Don’t you dare use your pet names on me right now, Roger Taylor!'’ Roger tries to hold back his laughter.

“I told you I can do this on my own!” she explodes, “I am perfectly capable of handling –”

“Oh, trust me, I know you are.” He interrupts. Roger toys with the phone chord, blowing some of his bangs away from his face. “You could run circles around me, darling. Just because you're able to do it on your own doesn't mean you have to.” He smiled softly to himself, “You don’t have to do everything on your own anymore. I can't physically be there for you, and I hate that. If it were up to me, I'd be stopping by the store to bring you food or help lug books around.” Y/N exhales, hand running through her hair. God-damnit. Why does he have to be so bloody perfect and far away? “And as much as I wish I could change it, I know I can't be there right now to hold you and promise it will all get better.”

“Rog–” There’s so much she needs to tell him.

“Let me do this, Y/N.” He begs, “Just this one thing to help you keep a roof over your head and eat and take care of yourself.”

Y/N gives up all hope of arguing with him about this. And just like that, she’s crying for a completely different reason. Her voice wobbles as she sobs into the phone, “You're so stupid, Roger. You're such a goddamn idiot.”

He laughs as he too starts crying, smiling lovingly to the empty room. “I thought we’d already established that.” She gives a breathy laugh, clutching the money and cheque to her chest like a security blanket. “Hasn't ever kept you from talking to me before, though.”

Y/N wipes her tears with her shirt sleeve, sniffling pitifully. She knows she’s never felt love like this before and she never will again. Not even her parents had shown interest in supporting her; she never thought any less of them because of that.

But here’s Roger. Sweet, stupid Roger forking over hundreds of pounds and sending it to her from worlds away without batting an eyelash. All because he wants to help in any way he can. She can hear him as he rambles on, still trying explain how it “really isn’t a big deal".

“Roger–” her voice’s is so soft that he misses it completely.

“–I just care about you and I wanted to help and–”

“Roger!” She yells with a laugh.

He stops, eyebrows quirking as he smiled. He hears her take a deep breath and waits impatiently for her to speak.

Y/N’s heart is beating like a hummingbird's. “I love you.”

“What?” Roger feels completely frozen until she repeats those three beautiful words to him.

There’s another long silence and panic set in YN's stomach as she bites her lip. She really doesn’t want to pressure him into saying it so it’s her turn to start rambling, “I'm not just saying that because of the money and I don't expect you to say it back but I just needed you to know because it’s true and –”

“I love you too.” He interrupts her panicked mumbles.

Y/N's whole body relaxes. She exhales, hands shakily holding the phone as she lets out a watery, “Thank Christ” that makes Roger laugh.

“God, I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you so fucking much.” Now that he can say it aloud, he doesn’t think he'll ever be able to stop.

Tears well in Y/N's eyes again, “I...I want you, Roger. I want you here.” She sounds selfish but she doesn’t care.

This is the moment she’s been waiting for. Now that it’s out in the open, she needs to see him, feel his body against hers. She wants to show him exactly how much she loves him.

His heart aches, “I know, my love. You have no fucking idea how much I want to be with you right now. Fuck, I'd fly out to you right this second if I knew you'd actually let me.”

Y/N chuckles, sniffling “It's really tempting.”

He grins, “Tempting enough to let me?”

She shakes her head, “I can't be the one to deprive the world of Roger Taylor. I know how that feels and it's too damn painful.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “Why can't you just be selfish once in a while?”

“I'm afraid I'm not as strong headed as my rockstar boyfriend.”

Roger smiles brighter than the sun, face red and heart full at her words. “Boyfriend, huh? I like the sounds of that.”

“Do you now?”

His smile seems to grow, “Love it, actually. 'Specially hearin' it from my girlfriend.”

Y/N giggles, loving his ability to make everything better with just a few, simple words. “Be careful saying that in front of all your groupies, might break their hearts.”

Roger scoffs, putting a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Groupies!? Who do you think I am?” Y/N laughs and it’s his favourite sound in the world “You're the only groupie I've got, darling. Take you with me everywhere.”

“That's my official title then?” She jokes, “Resident Groupie?”

“Yes. And it's a paid position so you have to accept the money I sent.”

Y/N gasps, grin on her lips “You absolute wanker!”

“You love me, really.” Her smile softens, “I really do.”

---------------------------------

Roger's shoulders and hands ached as he plops down on his hotel bed. He winces at the contact between the sheets and the raw skin of his worn hands, biting his lower lip as he reaches for the phone. Hearing his girlfriend's voice always make it all worth it.

The line rings more times than Roger is used to and a very bad feeling sinks in his gut. Even more concerning is the fact that he goes to voice mail. The drummer frowns, setting the receiver back on the base before lifting and dialing again. Still no response. He tries a third time. Nothing.

Finally, on his fourth try, YN answers the line and relief washes over him.

“Hey, Rog.”

“Oh, thank god! I thought something had happened to –” He freezes, heart dropping when he realizes that she’s crying. “What's wrong my love?”

Y/N sniffles, hating herself for being the girl that cries at the sound of her boyfriend’s voice. She isn’t even sure what to do. If she tells Roger that his best friend called her and said she was a gold-digging whore, he’ll react rashly and she isn’t there to stop him from doing too much damage to the band or himself. On the other hand, these phone calls are all they have. Honestly is important, they both said so from day one and fuck, they’re in a relationship for crying out loud. She knows Roger loves her. He’s proven it more than enough times. It’s just that… If his best friend, the people he spends every waking moment with think that of her, maybe it’s because he’s said something. And she’s sure it isn’t only Brian thinking those things. They couldn’t have come to that conclusion on their own. Could they?

“Is it work? Did something happen?”

“No...” She hums, trying to gather herself. She’s not going to tell him.

Roger frowns, worry clawing at his chest. She isn’t tired of him, is she? “Talk to me, love. Please.”

His plea breaks some of her resolution and she fights hard to not start sobbing. She’s sick of crying every time they call. “It's nothing, just having a rough day.”

“No, it isn't.” Roger insists, brow furrowed determinedly. Something is gnawing at him to not trust her words.

Y/N swallows, mind running in circles. “Rog…You know I'd never lie to you, right? I'd never do anything to hurt you.”

Roger blinks in confusion, “Of course I do, sweetheart. Where's all this coming from?”

“Nowhere.” She lies, “I just want to make sure you know how much I love you.” She hesitates a moment. “Promise me you understand that, though. That when I talk to you...I'm never trying to get anything out of you. I'm not...digging for gold.”

Alarm bells ring loudly in Roger's head. Brian. Fucking Brian. “Did Brian call you?”

“No.” She answers too quickly.

“Brian called you, didn't he?” Roger is beyond furious as his voice raises along with the anger in his chest. “He called you and ran his fucking mouth, as he always does and hurt you. The fucking arse can’t accept that he’s not the smartest person in the room and wants to ruin everyone’s happiness because he’s a miserable bastard. Once I get my hands on him, I –”

Y/N sobs, “Don't fight with him! Please, don't. He was only trying to protect y– ”

Roger slams the receiver against the base, fists clenching as he tears through his door and down the hall towards the conference room turned music room, where he knows the lads are still rehearsing. He’ll apologize later to Y/N but right now, he needs to not be talked down. Brian deserves everything coming his way.

Roger slams the door open and as soon as he’s face-to-face with the guitarist, Roger punches him in the face.

Brian stumbles backwards as Roger keeps shoving his chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! What in the absolute fuck is wrong with you?!”

Brian's eyebrows furrow as he catches his balance, still trying to keep Roger at bay as he massages his sore jaw.

Roger's face is red, rage clear as day in his blue eyes as he spats his words at Brian, Freddie putting himself in the middle of the two. “Somehow, by the grace of fucking god, I'm happy for the first time in my miserable goddamn life and you have to go and try to fuck it up!” Tears welling in his eyes, Roger shoves his kit to the ground, cymbals crashing as pieces of set scattered across the floor. Freddie is grateful that it was just the four of them in the room, though the ruckus is sure to gather unwanted attention.

Brian rubs his bruising jaw, rolling his eyes at Roger's reaction. “I did it for your own bloody good, Roger! She was just going to keep leeching off you –”

“I don't fucking care, Brian!” Roger kicks his bass drum, foot going through the decal of his own face as he shoves Freddie away. “I don't fucking need it! I don't need any of it!”

Brian's eyes fall to his shoes as guilt filled his gut. Maybe he had been too rash and cruel. Maybe he should've given Y/N a chance to explain herself.

“What am I going to buy with all this money you've saved me, huh? Cars? Drugs?” Brian opens his mouth to argue but Roger cuts him off. “I love her, Brian! I don't care if she takes every fucking cent I have!”

Brian scoffs, guilt quickly being replaced by frustration at how idiotic his friend is acting. “Do you hear yourself? You've never met this person, Roger! You're being ridiculous! You're asking to get your heart broken!”

“I'm fucking grown, Brian! I can handle myself, you condescending prick! She's all I've got!”

The room goes eerily silent.

Brian clears his throat, pursing his lips. His voice is soft when he speaks again. “Since when don’t you have us?”

Roger stares right at Brian, daggers in his eyes. He scoffs sickly, “This? The band? The so-called friends that call up my girlfriend, making her cry and calling her a gold-digger?!” He gestures to the group, knowing that John and Freddie had done nothing to stop Brian from making the girl he loved question their whole relationship. “This is over. The second tour's finished, this is never happening again.”

Deacy knits his brows, “Roger–”

Roger takes a menacing step towards Brian, grabbing the front of his shirt in his tired and sore hands. “You ever speak to her again and I'll rip your fucking balls off.”

The blond turns from the group, retreating down the hall and back to his own room.

Brian, Freddie, and Deacy stand in shocked silence.

------------------------------------------------------------

Brian sighs as he raises his fist to knock on Roger's door. He feels bad. He really does. And he doesn’t want the band to break up because of a girl. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t still think Roger was acting like a mad man.

The guitarist hopes that the few hours he had left Roger to wallow in his self pity has been enough for the drummer to calm down and reconsider the whole quitting nonsense.

“No, Y/N! I won't! I won't forgive him.”

Brian freeze, dropping his hand to his side. Why on earth would Y/N be defending him? Brian rests his ear against Roger's door, curiosity itching beneath his skin. There’s a pause as Roger listens to Y/N's response.

“I understand that he was trying to look out for me. I get that, but I'm a grown fucking man, Y/N. He thinks he's the smartest person alive and I'm sick of it! I could have lost you!”

Brian rolls his eyes. He doesn't think he’s smarter than Roger. He just thinks Roger is dumber than him.

“No, I'm quitting! Soon as tour's over I'm flying out to you and I-.... No, I'm not! I'm not being dramatic!”

Brian smirks, chuckling to himself. “I wouldn't miss them. Not for a second. I can play drums anywhere. I don't need them! ... It is not bullshit!”

Brian’s surprised. Impressed even. He never thought that this girl would be defending them after everything he'd said to her. “I don't want to talk to those wankers. They treat you like you're some conquest. They don't even see it. I'm not like that anymore, Y/N. I'm just not that person anymore. You need to know that.”

Something in his words give Brian pause. Roger’s right: it'd been ages since he'd heard any moans coming from the other side of Roger's door. The drummer barely showed up at after parties anymore. Hell, even when women throw themselves at him, he just smiled politely, signing whichever body part they present him and returns to his previous conversation with the lads or their entourage.

There’s so many things Brian was used to seeing Roger numb himself with. Booze. Drugs. Sex. Anything that would bring him any sort of temporary relief. It had all stopped suddenly. Roger is now more focused and plays better. He fights less. He even started apologizing for things. He smiles more. It’s as if a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders. No more dark circles under his eyes; no more empty bottles; no more smears of white powder left on tables.

Things are different now. They had been for a long time, he’d just been too conceited to notice. The changes seem to coincide with her sudden appearance in Roger’s life.

Brian bites at the inside of his lower lip, sighing as he knocks on Roger's door.

Roger curses, mumbling something to Y/N and brings the phone with him as he pries himself up off the bed and shuffles over to the door, flinging it open roughly.

“What the fuck do you want?” Roger spats. He’s vaguely aware of Y/N's voice in his ear, telling him to take it easy.

“To apologize.”

“Apology not accepted.” Roger tries to slam the door in his face but Brian’s quicker, smacking his hand against the hard wood.

“Really? I'm trying to be nice and you're going to bitch about it?” the guitarist can’t help but roll his eyes.

“Yep. That's the plan.” Roger is just about to try slamming the door shut again when he hears Y/N call his name loudly on the other line. He holds the receiver to his ear. “What did you say, love? ... No! Y/N, I don't want to hear anything he has to say.... Why should I?” The blond exhales angrily, eyes shooting daggers at Brian as he holds the receiver against his ear. “Come on in.”

The air is tense as Brian sits down next to Roger on his bed, biting at his thumbnail as Roger hits the speaker button on the base of the phone. “He can hear you now, love.” Roger mumbles. “Don't see why you're bothering with letting him apologize after he –”

“Just let him speak, Roger.” The voice from the speaker is crackly with static, sweet yet exasperated.

Brian smiles a little, feeling marginally better about things knowing she’s not too angry or hurt. “I, um...I wanted to say I'm sorry. I know I was wretched. I just got worried. Roger can be a bit of a dumbass sometimes and I –”

“I am not! You're the one that bloody –”

Y/N heaves an exasperated sigh, “For god’s sakes, Roger, just calm the fuck down and let him explain.”

Roger grumbles something under his breath. Brian can’t help but smirk. “Brian, I understand where you were coming from. You were only trying to protect him.”

Roger scoffs. “You're really going to side with Brian!?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, feeling a headache forming. Men. “You're being such a baby.”

Roger groans, crossing his arms over his chest as his jaw clenches.

Brian is starting to like this girl more and more. She knows how to put Roger in his place and he lets her. It’s refreshing, “I... I may have been wrong about you.”

Y/N smiles, “No shit!”

Roger can’t help but grin. That's my girl.

Y/N sighs, “But we'll get to you apologizing to me later. Right now, you two need to get your heads out of your asses and forgiving each other. Queen won't end because the two of you can't act like adults.”

Roger scoffs, “Fat chance.”

Brian shakes his head exasperatedly. “I swear, you're a child.”

“And you're a pompous asshole!”

“Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I'm pompous.”

“Oh, so now you don't think I'm smart?”

“Not when you act like a twat, I don't!”

“Piss off!”

“No! You –”

Y/N drops her phone back onto its base. Roger should have known she wouldn't sit there and listen to that crap. Roger and Brian go silent at the dial tone. The drummer curses, grumbling as he redials her number. It only rings once before she picks up.

“You two finished?” There’s silence and Y/N giggles. “I can't believe two grown men are being such babies.” Both of them open their mouths to argue in self defense but can’t before she’s laughing at them.

Brian sighs, “Rog, I'm sorry. I know you're not stupid and I –”

“You sure bloody act like it –”

Y/N exhales sharply, “Roger I swear to god if you don't stop interrupting, I won't pay my phone bill this month.”

Roger immediately goes silent and Brian laughs smugly. Roger flips him off.

Y/N shakes her head, “I wouldn’t laugh if I were you, Brian. You're already on thin ice.”

It’s Brian’s turn to go quiet and Roger’s to laugh smugly.

“Why do I feel like a mother scolding her two idiotic children?! Roger, Brian was just trying to look out for you. It was a shitty way of doing it but he loves you and wants you happy. Brian, Roger is hot headed, you know that better than me but because of you, I almost lost him and Roger was right in his reaction. You had no right to call me and call me a gold digger and an actress. You should have trusted your friend's judgment.”

Brian held out his hand, “I'm sorry, Roger.”

Roger takes it, giving it a reluctant shake. “I'm sorry, too.”

Y/N sighs in relief until Roger speaks again, “You need to apologize to Y/N as well. And you should know: she didn't ask for the money. I sent it to her without her knowledge and she yelled at me.”

Freddie walks by the open hotel room door, having heard their screams from the hall and leans against the post, observing the scene in front of him. Brian rubs his neck, cheeks turning red. “I'm sorry Y/N. I shouldn't have been so quick to judge.”

“You're right, you shouldn't have but I forgive you. I'm still hurt but I know it was done in good faith.”

Brian nods, guilt eating at him. “I understand completely. I... I wouldn't have forgiven me had I been in your shoes.”

Y/N smiles, glancing at the clock on her bedside table. “Lucky for you, I'm very forgiving and understanding. And as much fun as this is, I'm going to be late for a meeting.”

“Make sure to eat something, please.”

“Don't worry rockstar, I'm taking care of myself. I love you.”

Roger smiles sappily, “I love you too.”

After she hangs up, Freddie smiles and makes his way into the room and drops down next to Brian, “I like her.”

Roger grins, “Yeah, she's amazing.”

“I'm sorry I didn't stop Brian.”

The drummer shakes his head, “It's all good mate. You lot were just trying to look out for me. I was just angry because she was already hurting and you managed to make it worse. I hate hearing her cry.”

The two nod, realizing what a mess they had made. Freddie claps his hands, “Well, now that it's settled that you're not quitting the band and we're all friends again, we should celebrate! I won't take no for an answer, my darlings!”

————————————————————

Y/N’s pulled out of her thoughts as the phone rings at nine am. She knows it’s Roger: no one else calls her but she almost never gets calls from Roger this early in the day. There’s only a four-hour time difference, but it’s still rare for her to get a call before the middle of the night.

It’s nine and two minutes, meaning Roger is calling her at five in the morning his local time.

She picks up the phone in an instant, worried that something is wrong, “Rog? Are you ok?”

“Y/N? Y/N! It's me! It's Roger!”

She chuckles, realizing what’s going on. She can hear the smile in his voice as he basically screams across the distance separating them. “Hi, Rog. Sounds like you're having fun.”

He laughs drunkenly, stretching his legs across the couch he’s sitting on. “And you sound –” He groans longingly, “You sound so sexy, Y/N. So beautiful. Fucking gorgeous. Prettiest girl I've ever seen.”

Y/N giggles, face heating up at his words. “You've never seen me before, Rog.” She hears a few snickers from around him. “Am I on speaker phone?”

Roger nods, forgetting he was on the phone in his drunken state. He’s just happy to be speaking to his dream girl.

“Hello Y/N!” Brian calls, taking another swig from his nearly empty beer bottle. Y/N returns the greeting but Roger frowns, quickly switching her off speaker. “Brian doesn't get to ever talk to you ever.”

YN smiles sympathetically, “Aw, Rog. I told you I forgive him, so did you. He was just being friendly –”

“I don't have to see you to know you're pretty.” He interrupts, drunken mind already returning to the most important thing. “I just know it. I do.” He frowns, grumpy that she dares question how highly he thinks of her. “Prettiest girl in the universe.”

He yawns, rubbing at his eyes. “Wanna meet you so bad. I think...I think it's scary.”

YN hums, confused. “What's scary?”

“W-What'll I-...What is-...What if you don't think you like me as much? What'll I do then?”

Her heart stutters, “Oh Rog, of course I'll like you. I love you.”

“But you love hearing me but what about seeing me?” He croaks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “What if you don't like seeing me?”

Y/N sighs, “Roger, I'd love you if even if you were bald with green skin.”

“What if it's worse than all that?”

Y/N laughs, “Worse than bald with green skin!?”

Roger hides his drunken smile, as if she was there to see it. “I'm serious! I'm being serious and you're laughing at me!”

“Aw, Rog, I’m sorry. I won't laugh anymore.” She speaks through her giggles. “I'm listening. Really...”

Roger sighs, self consciously looking down at his body. “I...I'm not big.”

Y/N quirks her brow, intrigued by where this conversation is going. “What?”

“I'm not so big and muscly! I'm skinny! I mean...well...My shoulders are ok but –”

She chuckles, “Roger, my love, I promise I'm going to love the hell out of you no matter how muscly you are.”

Roger groans, “You've got to stop that.”

She frowns, “Stop what?”

“Stop...Just stop being so goddamn perfect all the time.”

Y/N scoffs, “I'm far from perfect, Rog.”

He groans again, “You sound so goddamn sexy.”

She laughs at him, loving how his drunken mind seems to go in circles. “Is it my 'I just woke up and haven't spoken yet' voice?”

Roger moans, running his hands through his hair. “You're just teasing now! You have any idea the kind of things I want to do to you?”

“I might have a vague idea, yes.”

Roger let his eyes fall closed, mumbling. “God, I just want to suck on your tits.”

Y/N's jaw drops, “Roger!” She feels her face turn scarlet, knowing he’s just a few steps away from his band mates and they are absolutely listening in.

“I mean it!” He whines, “You make me so fucking hard –”

“Roger, I am not having this conversation with you in front of your mates.”

He whines again, “'m not asking for full on phone sex!” His lips turn up in a smirk, “Maybe I could just get you off? The boys aren't listening.” He glances at his friends but he’s too drunk to really see, “At least I think they’re not.”

Y/N buries her face in her hand, “They most definitely are, Roger.”

He frowns, not comprehending what the issue is, “But I love you.”

“I love you too, rockstar.” She smiles, “Do me a favor? Put an aspirin and a glass of water by your bed.”

Roger feels himself tear up, “Are you hanging up?”

She knits her brows sympathetically. “I've got work, baby.” The last thing she wants to do is hang up on him when he sounds so adorable and horny but she’s already running late.

“Call me?” he asks, “Once you get home? The minute you get home.”

She’s smiling, “I don't think you'll be awake.”

“Wake me up, then.”

She chuckles, “Ok, rockstar.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Roger wakes up hours later, unsure on how he managed to get back to his room and with a pounding headache. He reaches for the aspirin and water he vaguely remembers putting on his bedside table, as requested by his amazing girlfriend.

While going to wash his face, he notices an envelope by the door. Reaching down to grab it, his heart flutters when he sees the name of the sender: YN LN. It’s priority mail, meaning she probably spent quite some money on it and it’s dated three days ago.

His hands shake as he tears the envelope open and tears filled his eyes as he finally knows what the girl of his dreams looks like.

----------------------------------------------------------

Y/N makes her way into her small apartment, keys held in her teeth, a grocery bag in one hand and mail in the other. She stops in the kitchen, quickly putting her groceries away before sitting on the sofa and going through the mail.

As usual, there are a few store coupons, a reminder that her rent is due in two weeks and an envelope from Roger. She’s come to love and hate these: postcards are great, full of witty comments and loving remarks. Envelopes usually mean that he either sent her money or a small gift. Stupid, sweet Roger.

Y/N's heart is beating like a hummingbird's as she opens the letter from Roger. She pulls out a single photo, clipped from a magazine with a single word written across the bottom.

Guess.

She smirks, sliding the photo back into the envelope and hurries to her room. She dials his number the minute she gets to the phone, sitting on the edge of her bed. It only rings once before he picks up. He doesn’t even get a chance to greet her. “You think you're so clever, don't you?”

Roger laughs, knowing exactly to what she’s referring to. “Yes, actually, I do.”

“You're such a wanker.” She’s laughing, shaking her head as she looks over the photo of Roger and his band mates.

He laughs, adjusting his pillow as he rubs his eyes, waking himself up a bit more, “Thought that was why you love me?”

Y/N smiles, kicking off her shoes as she lays back, “You want me to play that game? Fine, I'll play it, rockstar. I bet you twenty pounds I'll get it on the first try.”

“You really think you will?” Roger loves how confident she sounds. God, he loves this woman.

“Of course I will, drummer boy. I'd know you anywhere.” Her smile’s soft, the love she feels for the boy knew no limits.

He bit his lower lip, a grin breaking out on his lips 'You're on, sweetheart.'

YN pulls the photo closer, excitement rolling in her stomach. “Let's see...”

Every face in the picture is a beautiful one but she knows immediately that her Roger is the blond one but there’s no reason to make him aware of her discovery just yet.

She grins, the idea of making him sweat extremely amusing. “Suitor number one, here...Tall! He's got some legs on him, doesn't he? And just look at those curls! Gotta love a man with curls.”

Roger feels jealousy boiling in his stomach, but he does his best to ignore it, not wanting to give anything away. He starting to regret sending her a group photo. “Number two...Oh! that jacket is lovely. I like the silk. He knows how to dress, for sure.” Roger chuckles. Good old Fred.

“Number three...Number three looks like he's quite a sweetheart, doesn't he? So smiley! And that little striped vest!”

Roger purses his lips nervously, knowing she’s about to focus on him and talk about her first impression. What if she doesn’t find him attractive?

“Number four is this blond fellow.” Y/N smiles, her heart fluttering as she gazes at the man she loves. “Sparkly pink shoes, looks a bit tired. Might be drunk in this photo, actually. Stunningly handsome. Looks like he's got a bit of an attitude too.” She pauses for a moment, making Roger smile. She’d described all his friends perfectly and he can tell from her voice that she knows. He loves her even more for it.

“Yep, there's my Rog.”

Roger laughs, cursing his mind for doubting her even for a second. “I do not have an attitude!”

“You do!” She counters between laughs, “I would too if I wore pants that tight!”

He smirks, “I just wanted to show off my cute ass for you, love.”

YN grins, “Wait 'til you see mine, pretty boy. I can guarantee it's cuter.”

Roger's face goes red. The power this woman holds over him was astounding.

She hummed blissfully, head relaxing against her pillow as she admires the photo once again. “You're beautiful, Rog. Knew you would be...”

How she ended up being so lucky, she will never know but she will thank her lucky starts everyday from here on out.

Roger's heart stutters. He wants to ask her if she really means it but his heart knows she would never lie, especially about this. He looks over at her picture, propped against the base of the phone. He’s been carrying it in his wallet and keeps it next to his bed when they stop at hotels. His eyes scan her smiling face. “Do you have any birthmarks?”

She giggles, thrown but the sudden question. “What?”

“You know, birthmarks.” He realizes that it sounds random but he wants to know everything he can about her. At this point, he’s aware of her family history, of her interests and hobbies, and friends but he knows almost nothing about her body except for what he can make out from the picture. Roger wants to memorize every inch of her.

She quirks her brows, “I've got a little one on my back but it just looks like a mole. Why?”

“Just curious.” He admits, “What about scars? My hands and arms are covered in small ones because of the drumming and stupid fights.”

Y/N laughs at that, not at all surprised by his sheepish confession. “Mm... I have a scar on my left wrist. Got it when I was probably around five-ish. I was riding my bike and ran into my garage door. The glass window shattered on my arm. It both scared and scarred me.”

Roger smiles, imagining how her body looked liked, her scars and all. “Are you ticklish?”

“Depends on where you try it.”

Roger grins, “I can't wait to figure it out.”

They settle for a moment, letting the familiar silence wash over them. Words hang unspoken in the air and Roger decides to through caution to the wind. “I wish I could touch you. Just explore you. Every inch of your gorgeous body.” He’s wanted to say these words for so long.

Y/N smiles, a warm feeling washing over her. Roger can’t help but imagine her sitting in her room, holding the receiver to her ear. He hums, picturing his hands running down the smooth skin of her stomach. He swallows thickly, arousal pooling in the pit of his stomach. “Have you got a soft spot?” God, he wants to be with her so bad it’s a physical pain.

She smirks, her voice lowering a bit and taking on a sultry tone, “Why ever would you asking Rog?”

He chuckles, pants tightening at her tone and implications but two can play at that game. “Think you know why, love.”

She feels heat pool in her stomach, “Maybe you should wait and find it yourself.”

He groans in frustration, “What if I don't want to wait? What if I want to hear you moan my name right now?”

Y/N clenches her thighs, biting her lip to hold back any sounds that might escape her lips. Roger isn’t done though. “If you like that, just wait till I get my hands on you. I'll ruin you in the best ways. You'll be screaming my name.”

YN's head falls back, hitting the wall with a small thud as she moaned, panties growing wetter by the word. “Is that so drummer boy?”

Roger nearly moans, “Well, you know what they say about drummers, don't you?”

Y/N bites her lip. “What do they say?”

He smirks, “They do it harder.”

The silence is pregnant. Roger's boxers are tented and he’s feeling too hot under the hotel blanket so he throws it to the side before speaking again. “I had a dream about you last night.” His tone leaves little to guess about the nature of said dream.

“Lucky you,” She’s breathless, mind buzzing and body aflame.

Roger chuckles huskily, “And you said I have an attitude. What I am to do with you?”

Y/N smirks, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Are you taking requests?”

Roger moans shamelessly, boxers too tight to be comfortable as he rearranges himself. “I wouldn't mind having you under me.”

It’s her turn to whimper, legs rubbing together to alleviate some of the building pressure in her core. “I wouldn't mind having you on top of me.”

Roger closes his eyes, imagining the scene and wishing it was currently reality. “You won't get anything if you keep talking back.”

Y/N giggles, “You didn't think I'd go down without a fight, did you rockstar?”

God, he loved her. He can’t wait to fuck the attitude right out of her. “Honestly, I thought I'd be the one going down...”

Roger doesn’t expect the moan that comes out of Y/N's mouth and he wishes he could hear it in person. He smirks, “I bet you're an absolute mess right now.”

“You're welcome to come over here and find out.”

Roger wants nothing more, “That's tempting, sweetheart.”

She smirks, “It was meant to be.”

“You're such a brat.” He loves it.

“You didn't know that?” She’s playing coy, riling him up and Roger is soaking up each word.

“You've got quite the mouth on you.”

She bites her lip, “You'll love it even more once you feel what I can do with it.”

Roger moans, palming himself over his briefs. “I'm so bloody hard right now. All because of that mouth of yours, you minx.”

Y/N whimpers, “What do you want me to do about it?”

Roger squeezes himself, hips canting up from the bed. “I can think of a few things, actually.”

She palms her breast, bra getting in the way and she quickly rids herself of it. “Yeah? Want to know how wet I am for you? Would you like me to touch myself? Let you hear as I moan your name?”

Roger's breath comes out in pants, hand slipping beneath the elastic of his briefs to grip his cock. “That'd be a great start.”

She smirks, loving how worked up he sounds. “Bet I can finish too.”

Roger laughs breathlessly, “Damn right you will, love.”

Her underwear is soaked, fingers itching to remove them and get some relief and her mouth works faster than her brain. “What are you doing right now?”

Roger swallows around the knot in his throat, “I'll give you three guesses.”

“What if I get it wrong?”

Roger smirks, “Don't find out.”

Y/N has always loved a challenge, “What it I want to?”

“It might involve you not getting to cum, so I'd think about it real hard.”

“Is that a hint, lover boy?”

Roger moans, finally slipping his cock out of his boxers and slowly starting to run his hand up and down his shaft.

“That sure was pretty, rockstar. Let me hear it again.”

“You first, love.” He pants, “Touch yourself for me. Let me hear those pretty little sounds I know you make.”

Y/N lets her hand slip past the band of her panties, fingers teasing herself as she slowly circles her clit. She moans, making Roger speed up his movements as he smirks. “So you can follow directions.”

She moans again, applying more pressure to her clit. “Only you for.”

Roger can’t get enough of the sounds coming from the phone. “You sound so sexy. I can’t wait to taste you baby.”

Y/N slides her finger lower, teasing her entrance as Roger continues speaking, “I’ve had some many dreams about you, baby. Dreamt about watching your face as you clench around my cock.”

Y/N moans loudly, the images in her head and the words spoken in her ear driving her mad. “Roger”, she whimpers, fingers sinking into her slick core, “want your cock in my mouth, Rog. Want to feel it against the back of my throat.”

Roger curses, hips bucking wildly as he pumps himself. “God, the sounds you make will be the death of me.” He closes his eyes, holding the receiver close to his ear to make sure he won’t miss a single sound, “I'm so hard baby. Leaking all over my hand.”

Roger swipes his thumb over the tip, gathering the precum and using it to aid his hand. “Wish it was your hand.”

Y/N whimpers, fingers pumping her heat faster and faster. “Feels so good, Roger. I need you so bad.”

Roger curses again, “How'd you want me, love? You want my face buried in your cunt? That make you feel good?” The more he speaks, the closer she gets to her release. “Or would you want me inside you? I'd fill you up so good, baby.”

It’s Y/N's turn to curse, closing her eyes as she pictures his blond hair between her thighs. “I bet you'd look beautiful between my legs, rockstar. I want you so bad. Need to feel every inch of you stretching me. Fuck, Rog.”

She lets out a pathetic whimper, phone held between her shoulder and ear so both her hands are free, one to tweak her pert nipple and the other rubbing her clit furiously. “So close.”

Roger places the receiver on his shoulder, using his now free to cup his balls as the other increases the speed of his strokes. “hat's right love, cum all over your pretty fingers. Let me hear you.”

His vision goes fuzzy, chest warm as he lets himself cum while listening to Y/N whimpers and moan his name as she orgasms.

Roger whimpers as he finally lets got of his cock, breath coming out unevenly. He can hear Y/N's own sounds reducing, breath steadying. Never in his life has he felt such a strong need for aftercare. Through the years, he'd humor the stranger in his bed, playing with their hair or kissing them before they finally left. He never saw the point in pretending that the night of passion they shared was going to lead anywhere but he wasn't a complete jackass.

For the first time in his life, Roger wishes he could hold this amazing girl in his arms, kiss her lips as she relaxes against him. Maybe even clean her up, if she'd let him.

“Rog?” her voice sounds tired yet satisfied, and it makes him smile.

“Yes, my love?”

“I love you.”

Roger feels complete. “I love you too.”

----------------------------------------------------

“Are you excited the tour is ending tonight?”

Roger sighs, a smile on his face. “You have no idea! No more sharing a tour bus with those three wankers, I get to sleep in my own bed and eat food that isn't prepared in a restaurant or that comes in a take-out container.”

Y/N grins, putting a pillow behind her knees as she gets comfortable in the sofa, “Sounds like a dream.”

Roger hums, not completely agreeing. His dream is now something more domestic. “And the record label said we'll be in London for a while.”

The unsaid words hang in the air. Roger desperately wants to ask her to meet in person. They’ve been together for a bit over a year, speaking for almost three. If he’s honest with himself, he’s scared shitless. So much could go wrong and he needs her in his life.

“Oh.” Y/N isn’t sure on how to reply. She wants to meet him, hug him, see the way his eyes sparkle when he laughs or how cute his face is when he pouts. She’s scared but she knows she needs him in her life and it’s time she feels his arms around her. “Maybe we could grab a coffee?”

Roger grins, voice full of emotion. “Yeah? You sure you want to hang out with a rockstar?”

“You sure you want to hang out with a book worm?”

Roger laughs wetly, heart beating furiously in his chest. “I wouldn't want it any other way.”

—-—————————————————-

Every corner he turns, Roger can’t help but let his eyes drift over the crowded streets, searching for that familiar face. He keeps a hand in his pocket, thumbing over his photo of Y/N like a security blanket as he trails behind the rest of the boys. He unwraps another strawberry sweet, popping it in his mouth as Freddie grabs John's arm, leading them all into another women's clothing store.

Roger has been back in London for almost a month now, and both him and Y/N have yet to find the time or courage to meet in person. It’s an odd, nervous game each time he goes out now, like a "Where's Waldo" from hell. What if he’s right beside her and he doesn't even know it? He shakes the thought from his mind immediately: he would know her face anywhere.

“C’mon Rog,” John sigh, an arm wrapping around the drummer’s shoulders as Freddie digs through a rack of leather pants. He pulls a pair off the rack, holding them up to Brian but they fall about mid shin against his outrageously long legs, making the guitarist scrunch his nose in annoyance. “You’ll meet her soon enough, mate. You don't have to go searching every time you're out.”

The blond groans, letting his head fall back against his friend’s arm. “You have no idea how hard this is, John.”

The bassist frowns, “Sure I do. I've got a family. I miss 'em more than anything when I'm gone.”

Roger sighs as Deacy gives him a firm pat on the back. “But it's not the same, though. Yeah, you miss Veronica and the kids when we’re away but...but at least you know what it feels like to hold her. Kiss her... All I have is that one photo of her. You get to go home, to a house full of life and love. I went home to an empty flat.” His hand hovers over his coat pocket where said photo sat, tucked away.

Freddie gives a sympathetic look as he folds his arms over his chest. “It’s going to happen darling. You just have to be patient. The universe is waiting for just the right moment to spring her on you!” He winks, grinning brightly.

Roger rolls his eyes, “Fuck the universe.” He doesn’t care if he sounds like a child. He’s waited long enough. “It's been three bloody years. I'm tired of waiting.”

Brian smiled softly, “I'm sure she’s just as eager as you are, Rog.”

Roger wanders outside the shop, tired of their optimism. He just wants to meet the girl of his dreams. Is that too much to ask for? He ends up flipping through a little rack of postcards set up next to the door. He chuckles to himself, trying to figure out how funny it would be if he sends Y/N a 'London' one.

He pulls her photo out of his pocket, admiring it as his eyes wander about the crowd. He knows he'd recognize her in an instant. The moment he sees her, there will be not doubt in his mind. No other smile in a crowd of people could be as bright as hers. He’s so busy people watching that he barely notices it, tucked away on the street corner.

Author’s attic.

He freezes, heart speeding like a train as his eyes fixate on the store on the opposite side of the road. It’s a quaint little shop. Vines climb up the side of it, nearly obscuring the sign. It'd clearly been painted ages ago and cracks had long since riddled the letters. Roger feels like he can’t move a single muscle. It can’t be that simple, can it?

Roger pays the boys no concern, abandoning them in the shop as he forces his feet to move from their spot glued to the pavement. He stumbles across the street, eyes locked on the store as his heart sits in his throat.

Please, let this be the right place.

A small bell chimes as he allows the door to close behind him. The place is exactly the way he'd imagined: books lining every available surface, books piled by the register, books stacked beneath a potted plant. There are even books arranged beside a small armchair under the front window. It smells of coffee and old paper, and it feels welcoming and homey.

“I’ll be right with you!”

Roger feels like he’s stopped breathing: he would recognize that voice anywhere. Tears gloss his eyes, his hand trembles as he reaches into his pocket, fingers grazing over his worn picture of her.

He turns towards her when she buzzes into the main room, arms full of thick story books.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” She chirps, eyes not leaving her work as she flits around her desk, putting things in their right place. “Things have been so busy around here lately.” She chuckles, “I've barely been able to keep my own head on my shoulders!”

He watches her with a smile, tears threatening to fall. He blinks them back quickly, refusing to let her see him cry. His throat tightens with emotion and he can feel his palms starting to sweat. He wants to say something suave, something that’ll make him sound poetic and well-educated. Something that won’t make him sound like the love-struck idiot he is, but his mind seems to only hold her name. “Y/N...”

She turns around so fast he fears she might get whiplashed. Her eyes are wide as she meets his blue ones. The room spins for a second, and she can't quite tell if she’s imagining it or if it’s real. Her rockstar. Home after all this time. Seeing him here, in her world of books, with his messy blonde locks. He’s even prettier than any photo she’s ever seen.

His name is a breath on her lips, “Roger.”

She drops the books in her arms to the side, stumbling over her own feet as she runs to him, falling into his arms. She presses her face against his neck, her arms lock tightly around his shoulders. She can’t even try to contain the sobs that wrack her body. He smells of cigarettes and wood. He smells like home.

Roger can't believe how perfectly she fits in his arms; how normal it feels. He wraps an arm around her waist while his other hand buries in her hair, crushing her tightly against him. Her hair smells amazing, something sweet he can't quite place.

He sniffles, kissing the crown of her head as tears stream down his cheeks. His voice is weak and pitiful when he speaks, “It's so nice to finally hold you.”

Y/N gives a watery laugh, lips pressed against the warm skin of his neck. “You're home.”

Roger moves his hand down to the nape of her neck, making her pull back to look at him as he moves his hands to cradled her cheeks. Never had he seen such beautiful eyes, so expressive and full of love. Roger's thumb grazes her cheek, soothingly. His voice’s barely a whisper. “Knew I was right. You're the prettiest girl I have ever laid eyes on.”

Y/N laughs, head thrown back. She kisses his cheek, making him grin like a child on Christmas morning. “You're so beautiful, Rog.” She admires him, tucking some hair behind his ears. “Don't even need muscles.”

He tickles her sides, and she giggles, nose scrunching as he pulls her close again. Her laughter trails off as he smiles down at her, forehead resting against hers. He feels her hand rest on his chest, right above his heart as she clutches his shirt.

His eyes linger on her lips before locking with hers again. Her breath stalls. Roger is slow in cradling her face, indulging in her as he runs his thumb over her skin. His hand drops to hold the back of her head, tilting her into him as her nose nudges against his. Their lips graze.

A bell rings.

They jump apart, heads turning to the door to find his three friends staring at them. Brian and Deacy’s eyes are wide with shock and confusion: they turn their backs on Roger for five minutes and here he is, nearly making out with a store clerk after bitching about not being able to meet the girl he loves. Freddie just looks amused.

Roger groans, failing to hide the smile on his face. “God damnit Brian! Why do you always have to ruin everything?!”

Y/N burst out laughing, her head lulling back as Roger's hands holds her hips. Once she cracks, he can't hold back his laughter any longer, her smile infectious. His grin widens at Brian's confused expression. Freddie gives them a knowing smile, waiting to see if Brian could figure it out.

The singer knew who she was the moment he'd seen the two: Roger's protective stance, the starry-eyed look he has in his eyes, the way they are so comfortable with each other. It’s more than enough to hint at the girl's identity. Not to mention that he'd seen Roger fall asleep on the tour bus couch multiple times, still clutching her photo in his hand.

Freddie glances at Brian, chuckling as he decides Brian wasn't getting any smarter about the situation. The singer takes a step forward, lifting his sunglasses off the bridge of his nose. He gives Roger a wink, “So this is the girl you love?”

Roger goes red as Brian's eyes light up with realization, a grin on his face as Freddie smiles knowingly. “What did I tell you, darling? Trust the universe.”

Roger rolls his eyes, unable to keep the corners of his mouth from tugging up in a smile.

Brian finally pipes up, “Wait a second, so you're –”

“The actress trying to get in to your best friend's wallet.” She gives an amused smirk, extending her hand to shake his. “It's a pleasure.”

Brian blushes. Honestly, he had hoped that when they finally met, she wouldn't bring up the horrible things he had said to her. Without making eye contact, he timidly shakes her hand, “It's nice to meet you. Again, I want to apologize fo –”.

Brian feels two slender hands rest on his cheeks. He slowly lifts his eyes, meeting hers.

Y/N wears a kind smile on her lips as she speaks, “I'm just teasing. It's all good, Brian. You were just trying to be a good friend.”

The guitarist nods, unsure in his smile as Roger wraps his arm around her waist once again, pulling her towards his body. Brian observes how connected the two seemed to be: their movements are almost synchronized, and although they had just met in person, they somehow work perfectly together, like a couple who had grown up together.

John smiles at the group, “As much as I would love to get to know you, I think it's best to leave you and Roger alone for a bit. You deserve some time to get acquainted.”

Roger grins, kissing Y/N's temple. The girl smiles, her hands resting on the drummer's. “I like that idea. Rog, want to grab that coffee?”

----------------------------------------

“Sorry for the mess Rog! I didn't think I'd be having any visitors today.” Y/N bites her lips as she moves around the messy living room, trying to clean up a bit but Roger wraps his arms around her from behind, making her stand straight. He gently moves her hair to the side, placing a gentle kiss where her neck meets her shoulder.

“I don't care about the mess,” his voice is as soft as his touch, “All I care about is being here, with you.” Y/N hums, relaxing in his arms with her eyes closed as she enjoys the warmth emanating from his body. “It's all I've cared about for a while.”

Roger chuckles, content to stay like this forever. He can’t get enough of her. Her smile, her hands on his, her smell filling his nostrils. If this is a dream, he never wants to wake.

“Did you really keep all the post cards I sent you?” Roger isn't sure why he asked, but he needs to know if those pieces of cardboard were just as important to her as they are to him.

Y/N nods, gently taking one of his hands in hers and silently makes her way through the flat. The drummer lets his eyes wander, taking in as much as he can. She leads him to her bedroom and it feels oddly reassuring to be here. He had imagined this room so many times; he had pictured her laying on that same bed so many times, playing with her hair as she talked to him.

It's surreal. It’s almost exactly like he imagined it to be in his head: soft and warm and homey. He loves it. Every inch of it screams her name. It’s cozy. A big patterned rug covered the wooden floor, and her bed’s made up with a pretty knitted blanket. And there, right above the bed, hangs a little bulletin board, holding every post card he'd ever sent her.

She smiles as she watches him wander around her room, a grin on his face. She stops herself from apologizing for the mess once again, as she moves to her bed to remove some papers and books from it.

Roger runs his index finger over the leather-bound spines of the books lining the few shelves on her walls. She must have hundreds. Her walls are lined with them and still, she doesn't have enough room for them all.

Roger pulls a small red one from the bedside table. The Velveteen Rabbit. He smiles a little to himself, flipping through the brightly illustrated pages. Y/N walks over to him, arms wrapping around his middle from behind as she kisses his shoulder before resting her head against it.

“My mum used to read this to me all the time, especially when I was sad.” He mumbles quietly, stopping on a drawing of the little boy holding the plush rabbit. “It was my favorite.”

Y/N's heart grows a few sizes at the image of a young Roger seated in his mother's lap as she read to him.

Roger's heart stutters as he flips through the pages, recounting the story of the little plush bunny, turned real by love. A knot forms in his throat as he admires the book's last illustration: the rabbit, sitting by a raspberry bush in the little boy's garden, visiting the one who had brought him to life.

Y/N feels Roger stiffen a little, and she meets his glossy eyes as he turns in her arms, “What's wrong, rockstar?”

Roger laughs breathlessly, her gentle touch calming him immensely. “Nothing. It's just...” He shakes his head a little, refusing to let his voice go watery. “It's just that I never really got it until now.”

Confusion knits her brow, “Got what?”

Roger smiles a little, looking back down at the book and then at the girl holding him. “I guess...well...Sometimes it takes being loved by someone to finally make you feel alive.”

Y/N's heart feels full of so much love she doesn’t know what to do with it. She stands there for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She does the only thing she feels she can do: she tightens her arms around his waist, giving him the biggest, warmest hug, he'd ever received. His arms wrap around her, stroking up and down her back.

“I love you.” Roger whispers against her ear. It feels amazing to be able to tell her as he holds her in his arms.

“I love you too.”

Their foreheads meet as Roger's nose nudges hers, heat building slowly between them. Y/N takes a little step backwards, knowing if she inches any closer, she'd want to jump his bones more than she already does.

Roger smirks, taking a step forward. She goes a bit breathless, smiling playfully as she takes another step back, only for her back to be pressed flush against her bookcase.

He chuckles, toying with a loose strand of her hair. “Caught you.”

Y/N tries to steady her breathing as his hand cradle her face. He runs his thumb over her lower lip. “What're you going to do now?”

Her eyes trail to his lips subconsciously, “I'm going to wait for you to kiss me, rockstar.”

He grins, pressing into her. He thinks back to that night he first called her. He thinks over every moment he had been so desperate to hold her in his arms.

The moment he kisses her, Roger is brought to life.

Her lips are softer than anyone's he'd ever kissed before. The kiss is gentle, her hand moving to cradle Roger's face as they melt into one another. He tastes of sweets.

Her skin smells of cinnamon and it reminds him of the tea Freddie would drink in the morning.

Roger inhales the sweet, spicy scent as he deepens the kiss. Her fingers laced in his hair, soft and fine between her fingers, and he hums a moan against a sensitive spot below her ear, her eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

Y/N feels overwhelmed in the best way. This is what she had craved for over two years and now that it’s finally happening, she’s afraid she won't be able to commit to memory all the feelings. Roger's lips moving against her own, the rapid beating of their hears. The feeling of his breath on her neck as he lays gentle kisses on it. It’s enough to make her mind spin.

She lets his hands grip her thigh tightly as she gives in to the urge to grind against him. He refuses to let his hands leave her body: some small part of him still afraid she'll disappear at any moment.

Roger pulls her closer, keeping an arm against the wall as he grabs at her ass, rutting against her clothed heat. She lets out a whine, thoroughly enjoying the friction as wetness pools between her legs.

Y/N wants more. Craves it. Needs his hands all over her. Needs his red-stained tongue against every inch of her body. She pulls away from his lips, panting as he drags his eyes over the curve of her hips and breasts. He takes one step back, eyes locking with hers as he pulls his shirt off. Her eyes roam his chest, mouth still ajar as she tries to catch her breath. He holds her loosely in his arms, pecking her lips. He will never get enough of her sweet taste. Roger will never get enough of her.

“Rog, I...” Y/N fumbles over her words. “I...” She needs him to know. She needs him to know how much she loves him. She needs him to know how uncomfortably wet her panties are becoming. He chuckles, meeting her eyes, as she tries to remember English. Roger feels a thread of concern build in his chest. Has he made her nervous? Has he gone to far?

He presses a sweet kiss on her forehead, “What's wrong, love?”

Timidly, she takes a step away from the bookshelf, moving so that Roger is now the one with his back to it. His brow quirks with confusion. Her eyes are locked with his, cheeks flushed and hair messy. Roger swallows thickly, heart racing in his chest as he watches her slowly drop to her knees in front of him.

Her hands tremble as she unbuttons his jeans, tugging down the zipper and pulling them down off his hips. Roger has to force himself to grab her wrists, pausing her movements. “You sure?”

Y/N doesn't say a word. Instead, her eyes stay locked with his as she leans forward, mouthing at his cock through his boxers. Roger gives a whimper, his hand lacing in her hair as his head tips back against the wall. He curses under his breath at the feeling of her hot mouth on his cock.

Roger has been sucked off before. In fact, Roger has been sucked off a lot, but never once has it ever felt as good as it does right now and he isn't sure if it’s because he’s in love with her, and he's been dreaming of seeing her pretty lips around his cock for months now, or if it’s the way she’s taking him into the back of her throat, dragging her tongue over his shaft, but he can barely remember his own name. He knows e should be embarrassed by the sounds passing his lips, but he can't find it in himself to care.

Roger hadn't even realized how long it'd been since he'd had physical sex with someone. He'd forgotten how good it could feel.

He whines her name hoarsely, his fingers itching to be against her skin. “Y/N, you've got to stop, love. I won't last.”

He watches as she pulls off of him, kissing the head of his cock one last time before Roger pulls her up to meet his lips again. He has her on the bed in seconds, nearly tripping as he finishes shedding his jeans and boxers. He mounts her, wasting no time in grabbing the waist band of her pants and pulling them down over her ass, taking her panties with them. He wants to tease her. He really does but the moment he sees her cunt, all soaked and ready for him, he loses all coherent thoughts.

Her jaw drops open, seeing stars as he flattens his tongue, dragging up slowly over her sensitive folds. His mouth is hot and wet against her as he circles her clit with the tip of his tongue, sucking it expertly as her back arches off the mattress.

Roger has never been more grateful that he’s experienced. It’s as if every girl he's ever been with, had been a practice run for Y/N. He knows where to suck, where to prod and lick and devour to make her squirm and buck into his mouth. He watches her face intently as she moans and ruts against his face, the arousal from her inner thighs smearing across his cheeks. He loops his arms around her thighs, her hands clutching the bed sheet like a vice. She gasps loudly as he shoves his tongue inside her, fucking her with it as he explores the inside of her hole. She cries out, head pressing into her pillow as her legs start trembling. He can feel her clit throbbing as he returns his mouth to it, pushing two fingers inside her to replace his tongue. She screams hoarsely, and Roger smirks against her heat as he fucks her harder, crooking his fingers inside her.

“Roger, I'm cumming. Don't stop, Rog, please don't stop!” She gasps, hips rolling as she rides his face, a numbing, warm pleasure washing over her. She gives a breathy sob as Roger works her through her high with his fingers, face still buried in her cunt.

She squirms beneath him as she grows sensitive, overstimulation setting in. She whines as he presses his thumb to her clit, rubbing circles over it as he sucks at her folds. “R-Rog you can stop –”. She whimpers as he hums in response, continuing his tongue's assault on her pussy.

“Rog...” She groans again, her hips settling as the discomfort begins to melt into pleasure. God, she’s so sensitive. It’s so much. So much at once. How is she already this close? Roger chuckles against her, watching her face as his lips finds her clit again. She lets out a high-pitched moan as the pleasure begins to build again, warmth tingling till the tips of her toes. The fire in her belly increases and she grips his hair tightly as she comes on his tongue again with a silent scream. He brings her back to earth, resting his chin against her stomach as she finds her bearings, cheeks pink and chest heaving.

“Want to go again?” Smug bastard.

Y/N fights to catch her breath, “Jesus, Rog, if you go again, you'll bloody kill me.”

Roger laughs, crawling up to meet her lips. She groans, tasting herself against his tongue. “Taste like fucking candy, don't you?” His voice is thick with lust.

Y/N peels off her shirt, leaving her wearing nothing but a thin bra. Roger hooks his finger under one of the straps, pulling it down so that he can roll her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making her moan and arch into his touch.

Y/N wraps her hand around his cock, pumping him slowly and Roger curses, eyes rolling back as he grinds against her hand. His name slips from his lips breathlessly. Heat bubbles in Roger's veins and without a second thought, he rips her bra down the center, exposing her tits. Y/N gasps at the sudden movement, breasts heaving as Roger kneads one in his palm, mouthing at the other. She barely notices his other hand sinking lower until he has two fingers pressed up inside of her.

Y/N whines, sobbing breathlessly as he fingers her. She’s wet and tight around his fingers, clenching as he hits her g-spot with ever movement of his talented fingers. Roger groans, the idea of his cock buried inside her nearly bringing him over the edge.

“I love you.” She moans, his name like a prayer falling from her kiss-bruised lips.

Roger curses, cock twitching in her hand at the wet sounds her cunt makes against his knuckles. He nuzzles his face in the crook of her neck, sucking dark bruises into her skin.

“I need to be inside you.” His voice is desperate and hoarse. “Please, I need to fuck you.” He’s desperate with the need to be buried inside of her, to be connected totally and completely.

Y/N pulls his face up to hers so she crashes her lips to his, cradling his face as he kissed her desperately.

“Ruin me.” She whispers, hands tangled in his hair.

Roger has to grip his cock roughly to stop himself from cumming. He whimpers, lining himself up with her entrance. Y/N cries out as he sinks into her.

“Tight fucking cunt. Shit.” Roger groans into her neck. “Love you so fucking much.”

Tears of emotion well in her eyes. “I love you too.”

Y/N’s breath comes up in short pants, back arching as pleasure flows through her body. “I love you, Rog. You feel so good inside me, baby.”

Y/N bucks into him as he fucks her, the head of his cock hitting her sweet spot with every smack of his hipbones against hers. His left hand finds hers, fingers lacing between her own. He squeezes her hand lovingly, thrusting harder against her. His eyes stay locked with hers as he kisses her forehead, her nose, her lips. “My gorgeous girl.”

He moans as her free hand finds his hair. “You fuck me so good, Rog. Oh god.”

She can feel him throbbing inside her as he watches himself disappear inside of her again and again. Tears stream down Y/N's face, “I'm close Rog.” Her eyes screw shut with pleasure.

“No, look at me, baby. Look at me while you cum. I want to watch you cum on my cock,” He kisses her jaw, releasing her hand so that he can rub her swollen clit, “I've got you, sweetheart. Cum. Cum for me.”

Y/N's eyes lock with his as her body trembles, her stomach pulsing with heat and pleasure as wave after wave of bliss overwhelm her. She sobs hoarsely, clenching around him again and again.

Roger buries his face in the crook of her neck as she tightens around him, letting her pull him over the edge with her. He whimpers into her neck, biting at it to muffle his moans as he spills inside her. Her legs wrap around his hips, heels pressing into his lower back as he relaxes against her, trembling. He kisses her long and hard, emotions pouring through the simple contact.

Y/N's leg go lax, releasing Roger from her grasp but as he tries to get out of bed, she latches onto his arm, forcing him to lay on his back so she can rest her head against his chest, legs tangling with his.

Roger smiles fondly down at her, an arm behind his head as the other wraps around her shoulders, pulling her as close as he possibly can. “I was going to grab a wash cloth to clean you up, but I think you may have other ideas.”

YN nods, placing a gently kiss over his heart. She turns her face upwards, eyes drinking him in. “I just got you, I don't want you going anywhere so soon. Sheets can be washed and we can shower later. I need this moment with you.”

Roger has never felt so happy or content his whole life. He places the hand under his head on her cheek, urging her to move her face closer to his. He closes his eyes as he gently places a kiss to her swollen lips, feeling completely at peace.

Roger never believed in fate or in soulmates. Not until he met Y/N. It had been Fate that had given him her number, it had been their destiny to meet and fall in love. She completes him, understands him and his crazy lifestyle like no one ever could. He wants this moment to last forever.

Roger wants to wake up everyday beside Y/N, kiss her whenever he wants. He wants to see her in the crowd of every single one of his shows. He wants to be the one she calls when she needs help moving around books or shelves in her store.

Roger wants a life with Y/N.

“Marry me.” He wants to spend the rest of his life getting to know every single facet of her body and soul.

“What?” her heart had just returned to normal and now it’s beating erratically again, eyes wide as saucers as she looks at his angelic face.

“Marry me.” There’s no doubt in his mind that this is what he needs to bet truly happy for the rest of his days. “It doesn't have to happen right away. You're it for me. There will never be anyone else. You're the love of my life, Y/N. I want to spend every waking and sleeping moment with you.”

“Ok.”

Nothing about their relationship has been normal. Not the way they met or how they fell in love. She never wants to spend another moment away from him.

Distance really did make the heart grow fonder.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Can I request a fluffy Joe Mazzello x fem. reader oneshot where it’s Joe’s Birthday and she goes to the doctor while he’s out with Ben and finds out she’s pregnant and buys something to surprise Joe and later that night at their home after they have eaten dinner and are cuddling on the couch, she surprises Joe with a present of a Yankees onesie that says Mazzello on the back and a sonagram picture?

Take Me Out to a Birthday Ballgame

Fandom: Actor, RPF, American Actor

Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Reader,

Characters: Joe Mazzello, Reader, You, Ben Hardy

Word Count: 1609 // Rating: Gen

Summary: Joe gets a birthday surprise

Tags/ Warnings: My Writing, BoRhap Boys, Joe Mazzello Fic, Joe Mazzello x Reader, Joe Mazzello, Ben Hardy, Bohemian Rhapsody Actors, Birthday, Birthday Present, Reader, Reader Insert, Reader Fic, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Announcement, Long-term relationship, Pregnancy, Established Relationship, Kissing, Doctors, Requested Fic, Requested, Requests, Yankees, Yankees, Take Me Out to a Birthday Ballgame

Notes: sorry its been so long

‘But I thought you and I were going to go?’ Joe said with a pout. Y/N had just hit him with the news that despite it being his birthday she was ducking out their plans. She had bought them tickets to the Yankee game and then booked a table for dinner afterwards. Yet, when the day came she couldn’t go. She had woke this morning incredibly nauseous and covered in sweat. She thought she knew why, in fact, she had thought she knew why for a few weeks but she had been too scared to take the test. She didn’t want to let Joe down, but she also didn’t want to get him excited if it was nothing. And a home pregnancy test wasn’t always certain, which is why she had rung her gynaecologist first thing this morning when she had woken feeling so crappy.

Her gynacologist had made her an emergency appointment but had told her she had to come in today. Or it would be another three weeks before she could squeeze her in. Y/N couldn’t hang on any longer and as soon as she had gotten off the phone with her doctor had rung for backups for Joe’s birthday plans. 

‘I was, we were going to go but somethings come up at work,’ she lied.

‘Can’t someone else take care of it? I mean it’s a Saturday,’ he said. 

‘If there was anyone else I swear I would make them but I can’t,’ she said as there was a knock on the door, ‘besides I’ve made other arrangements for you.’

‘It’s not your dad is it?’ Joe said with another pout. 

‘No,’ Y/N chastised as she headed to the door.

‘Because I love the guy but I can’t go to a Yankees game with a Dodgers fan, bleurgh,’ he said following her to the door. 

‘It’s not my dad. And I think you’re going to be in the minority at Dodger Stadium there Mazzello,’ she said as she yanked the door open to reveal a handsome blonde man standing there.

‘Ben?!’ Joe said with excitement as he moved past his girlfriend and engulfed his friend in a hug. 

‘Hey mate,’ the other man said hugging his friend back. 

‘What are you doing here?’ Joe said. 

‘Well I was in town for your party tomorrow and Y/N told me you needed a babysitter so I thought to hell with jet lag eh?’

‘Gee I’m touched,’ Joe chuckled. The two started talking but Y/N started to panic. She could feel another round of nausea coming on. And she had managed to hide it this morning but she feared if they hung around much longer her cover would be blown.

‘Right you better get a move on,’ she said. 

‘What’s the rush?’ Joe said, ‘Ben’s just got here.’                                                                                                                    ‘I know but there’s all that traffic on the freeway. You don’t want to miss anything,’ she rambled grabbing his wallet and keys off of the sideboard. They were barely out of the house before she was launching herself upstairs to the bathroom. 

After that, it took her a good while to recover enough that she felt she could drive to the doctor. But soon enough she was laying on her doctor's table with jelly being rubbed across her belly as the sonographer ran the wand across. Her doctor had already made her do a urine test which had confirmed her suspicions. She was knocked up. But since they had the technology on hand and given how long Y/N had suspected her doctor had insisted they do a sonogram to confirm just how far along she was. Suddenly, a whirring thumping noise rang in her ears. 

‘That’s baby's heartbeat. It’s good. Strong,’ the doctor said as Y/N turned to look at the screen which she was moving towards her, ‘and that is your baby. 11 weeks approximately.’

‘That’s it?’ Y/N said feeling tears sting her eyes. 

‘I know. It's not always what you expect-’

‘No, no,’ she said, ‘it’s…well, I don’t know what it is.’

‘Don’t worry. You’re not the first woman to be a little confused about everything. I’ll give you a minute to think and get yourself cleaned up. I’ll get the nurse to do a few health checks, take some history and give you some pamphlets. I’ll write you up for a prescription for prenatal vitamins and leave it at the front desk, okay?’ 

Y/N didn’t have much time to respond as the doctor was already snapping off her gloves and washing her hands by the end of the sentence. And then she was gone. Leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts.

She was pregnant. 

She was going to have a baby. 

With Joe. 

She didn’t know what to feel. Happy? Conflicted? Scared? 

She loved Joe. She knew she wanted babies with him it was just that now seemed too soon. She was still in this fog when she left the doctor's office, so much so that she decided to go for a walk instead of heading back to her car. She walked until she was too hot and sweaty to continue but instead of turning back she ducked inside a store hoping that they would have someplace to sit down. It was a clothing store which she rejoiced at as she headed to the shoe section which had benches to sit down on. 

She sat there for a while. Thinking about the little human that was growing inside of her. She was still conflicted. Unsure of what she wanted when she heard someone cough next to her. She found a man standing beside her with a pair of shoes in hand waiting to sit down but she was taking up all of the room. 

‘Sorry,’ she mumbled as she got up and walked away wondering through the aisles mindlessly before she realised she was in the baby section. In front of her, she found a little onesie styled like a Dodger’s baseball uniform. She chuckled, ‘your daddy would hate that.’

She stopped. 

She was talking to the baby.

Her baby. 

She was going to be a mom. Joe was going to be a dad. 

Why had she been worrying? Even if she wasn’t ready. Joe was. He had always wanted kids and that feeling had only gotten worse after his dad had died. He was ready enough for both of them. Even if it was sooner than she anticipated.

Y/N was in the lounge when she heard movement at the front door. She had been laying on the couch. Today had been long and rough. She’d been through a whirlwind of emotions, had barely eaten and vomited more times than she could count. Still, she pushed herself up into a sitting position excited to see how Joe’s day had gone. 

He came in cheery as ever and came to sit next to her slinging his arm around her and pressing her kiss into her temple.

‘Good time?’ she chuckled. 

‘Yep,’ Joe beamed. 

‘Drunk?’ she said trying to fight the nausea that rumbled in her at the whiff of beer.

‘Buzzed,’ he corrected. 

‘Did you and Ben enjoy the game?’ she asked and without warning, Joe burst into a full in depth explanation about the game, the car ride and the meal they had shared. All of which she had missed out on. 

‘I’m glad you had fun,’ she said. 

‘What about you?’ he sighed, ‘how was work?’ 

‘Fine,’ she lied, ‘actually, I managed to finish a little earlier than I thought and I went shopping.’

‘Oh yeah?’ he said. 

‘Yeah, I even got you a little something,’ Y/N said leaning over to grab the small gift bag that she had slotted underneath the coffee table previously. 

‘Ooh, another present,’ he said grabbing it off her somewhat heavy-handedly in his drunken state and tearing the top of it open. 

He pulled the contents out unwrapping the small white garment from its tissue wrapping.

‘I think this is a little small for me babe,’ he chuckled.

‘That’s because it’s not for you,’ Y/N said. Joe frowned, confused. Y/N rolled her eyes and reached into the bag bringing out a small piece of paper.

‘I don’t,’ Joe started, ‘I mean is this?’

‘I didn’t go to work today,’ Y/N said. 

‘You didn’t?’ he said still trying to piece together what was happening in his drunken state. 

‘No, I went to the doctor,’ she said, ‘and-’

‘You’re pregnant?’ he whispered. Y/N nodded. 

Before she could say anything Joe leapt towards her throwing his arms around her and kissing her profusely. They collided and fell back against the couch.

‘Joe,’ she giggled, ‘can’t breathe.’ 

‘Sorry,’ he chuckled pulling back, ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘Me either,’ she smiled. Joe started babbling once more, leaning his head down on her chest as he unleashed his excitement upon her. Y/N felt more content than she had all day. Curled up on the couch with Joe by her side she wondered why she had ever doubted them. 

Joe was going to be a fantastic Dad. 

Well, as long as the baby supported the Yankees

[samxslaughter]

*not my image, found on facebook*

Was just too perfect not to share.

[mercurymilkshakes]

Puzzle Pieces | Warren Worthington III

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: warren worthington III x gn! reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): some swearing lol

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: warren thinks deeply about his past, and debates his place in the world.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓(𝐒): “people piss me off so fucking much!” “do I count as people?” “of course not.” + “I can’t move because you’re sitting on top of me.” “have you thought that maybe the problem isn’t me sitting on you, but you sitting under me.”

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1k

It’s hard to find people to relate to sometimes. To fit in, and find a place you sincerely belong. We all have puzzle piece hearts hidden deep in our chests, ones that we pull apart to try and cram it along in any empty space we can find in this bigger picture of life.

This haunting feeling of estrangement is a universal struggle- one of which almost every person understands.

Although, the case is a little different for a mutant. Those little strands of DNA have woven a stark difference along the puzzle pieces of good people. A difference that sets them blatantly apart from the rest of the board.

This was especially true for Warren, who not only had a very obvious physical mutation- but whom had reformed from a broken and bloody past.

After all that had gone down with Apocalypse, many students watched him walk through the halls of Xavier’s Institute with a great amount of fear in their eyes. They cowered away from his wings as if the fluffy feathers would burn them should they dare to come close.

Half the time, Warren wondered why he’d even bothered joining the X-Men after all that had happened.

The other half, he didn’t have to wonder. It was you.

You who had pulled him from the wreckage of the jet crash, despite him being buried beneath a pile of heated steel. You who insisted he be saved. You who had burned the palms of your hands trying to get him out.

Even now, he saw the scars on your fingers as you spoke with Ororo- talking rapidly with exaggerated hand motions. He remembered those same hands being the ones to heal him and bring him back to his former self, feathered wings and all.

He knew it was you that convinced him to stay, even when the not so quiet whispers and the fairly obvious glares told him to go.

At first it was a simple blossoming friendship, a little plant that you diligently watered into a blooming flower, and then painted those petals with romance.

The relationship was still quite new, but Warren found comfort in every shy kiss, every sweet smile, and every spine tingling time you’d absentmindedly played with his feathered wings.

“People piss me off so fucking much!” You exclaimed, smiling and laughing along with Ororo as you finished your, no doubt, drama-filled story.

This statement pulled Warren from his thoughts. That- and the way you greeted him briefly, cupping his chin and leaving a simple kiss along his hairline while planting yourself in his lap.

Warren grinned and wove an arm around your waist, stretching out his wings as much as he could in the not so spacious armchair. He rested the arch of one wing along your shoulders, and you felt the slight weight of it against your back.

“Do I count as people?” Warren asked teasingly, referring to whatever you had been talking about only moments ago.

You laugh, patting his cheek gently, “Of course not. Although I can’t say the same for a certain speedster.” Your gaze moves along the room to the silver headed figure slumped against the couch cushions only six feet away.

Peter looked up from his gameboy for a split second, having only barely been paying attention, “What’d I do?” He asked, still mainly focusing on his game as he stuck out a tongue and carefully planned out what button he should press next.

“Just yesterday, you stole my plate right out of my hands! I know it was you, Pete, one minute they were there, and the next they were gone.” You pointed at the boy in an accusatory manner.

Peter hummed, suddenly producing a lollipop from God knows where, putting it in his mouth as he pressed a button on his gameboy with his other hand, “Oh yeah, those waffles were really good by the way, your cooking skills are definitely improving.”

You huff and roll your eyes, looking defeatedly at Warren.

Warren shrugged and spoke with an amused tone, “I don’t know what you want me to do, love.”

“Kill him.” You say without hesitation, making Ororo- who sat on the other end of the couch from Peter- snort into her closed fist.

“I would do exactly that,” He promised emptily- deciding to go along with your antics, “but I can’t move because you’re sitting on top of me.”

“Have you thought that maybe the problem isn’t me sitting on top of you, but you sitting under me?” You reply, not even waiting for a response as you pat his chest, “Checkmate, angel.”

As you stand up, you call out to the silver speedster, “I’m coming for you, Gonzales.” You warn.

Peter’s eyes widen as he rushes to get off the couch, “At least wait till I’m done with my Pokémon battle!”

Warren laughed as you and Peter attempted to wrestle right then and there, Peter shouting incoherent apologies for taking your food- being drowned out by the laughter in the room- the loudest of such coming from Peter himself.

Warren watched, adoring the way you attempted to keep a serious composure while Peter pleaded with you, stating that you were the reason his Pokémon would be orphaned.

“What do you even have on your team?” You ask, laughing as Peter struggled against your arm.

“Uhhh an Eevee-” Peter was interrupted by your gasp as you release him from the gentle headlock he’d been trapped in.

“Show me!” You sit on the floor next to him in excitement as Peter smugly hands you his gameboy, thinking he took the easiest way out of your little fight.

You hold up the device so Warren can see the pixelated creature, “Look, angel, this Eevee’s trainer is about to get totally fucked.” You said casually, maintaining the excited tone of voice.

It was Peter’s turn to gasp, standing quickly from the floor and dodging the grab you made for his arm. His voice was about three octaves higher as he screamed, “You’re a monster!”

Warren grinned as you got up off the floor to chase the man who quite undoubtedly was faster than yourself, shooting Warren a sweet smile before you began the hunt for your waffle thief.

He knew maybe he hadn’t found his place yet. Warren had yet to discover where his puzzle piece belonged in the big picture, but with the feeling you always gave him- that fluttery, warm feeling- he just knew that wherever his place was, it’d fit perfectly next to you.

Basically implied that reader’s mutation is healing but that can kinda go hand in hand with any other mutation. aNyway, I haven’t written a oneshot in a long time and I really hope you enjoyed! -♠️

Wanna join our taglist? Fill out this form!

[zodiyack]

Honorary Mentions

Requested by @imaginesbymk​: And here’s my second + last request and its your right to ignore it if anything! Could you also write an imagine about Joe Mazzello winning an award and he mentions you, his fiancée in his acceptance speech? Again, hope this is ok!

Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Female!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Joe being his adorably awkward self, me not remembering how award shows(?) work

Words: 519

Summary: (See Request)

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​, @simonsbluee​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​

Masterlist | Joe Mazzello Masterlist

Joe’s knee bounced incessantly as he gripped Y/n’s hand with a bone crushing amount of force, not causing her too much pain though. His palms were clammy and slightly visible drops of sweat rolled down his face.

Thump thump

thump thump

It was ironic, the actor hearing a loud heartbeat and breathing as time felt slowed like a movie. The surreal chain of events that led up to this moment was a rush-

Thump thump

thump thump

The last award was for Bohemian Rhapsody. The night was going swell thus far. He gripped her hand tighter and clenched his jaw, attempting to relax himself but to no avail. Was luck on his side?

Thump thump

thump thump

“And the winner is-”

Thump thump

thump thump

“Joseph Mazzello!”

Silence.

Ringing.

Cheers erupted and sliced through the dramatic tension with an figurative knife. Suddenly, Joe felt himself return to reality, the drowned out noise of the viewers becoming loud and very much audible.

“We did it!” Joe smiled, letting go of Y/n’s hand and moving it to wrap around her shoulder, his other arm joining it as he hugged the life out of Y/n. He pressed multiple kisses to the top of her head before his costars’ loud whoops of his name combined with their cheering reminded him that his name was just announced from the stage. Which he was supposed to go to.

Roaring whistles and yells continued to ring through the room as Joe left his seat and made his way up to the stage, greeting the person who had announced him and shaking their hand. Finally, the banter gradually faded into silence as Joe positioned himself in front of the microphone.

“I just want to say thank you to my fellow stars, and the crew, who worked on Bohemian Rhapsody with me. I want to thank you because you guys have not only become my best friends, but my family too. Our movie has allowed me to meet some of my closest friends, and I could never be more grateful for that.” He paused, nodding at his mentioned friends as they applauded verbally and physically once again.

“Next, I’d like to thank my family. I’d like to thank them for being there for me and supporting me and just...being my family. Then uh...” Joe cleared his throat, smile growing despite looking as though it couldn’t anymore. “Finally, I’d like to give the biggest thank you...to someone who’s been with me through thick and thin, through our ups and downs, through each and every filming process, just- through it all man. I’d like to thank the love of my life, the best friend I could ever ask for, my fiancé,” hollers from the audience interrupted him, but he simply paused and made eye contact with the same eyes he saw when he woke that morning. “Y/n L/n.”

“You make me the happiest man in the world, and I honestly cannot wait to become your husband. Thank you all, again.”

Just a few weeks later, and Joe cashed in on the finale of his speech; bells rang and tears were shed. Another speech was made, but this time, by three very talented men and a cardboard copy of one of them. 

[anne-white-star]

Brian may x reader x roger taylor : holiday disaster

Notes : brian roger and reader are on a holliday near the sea swimming and relaxing. But the calm and peacefull holiday turns to one of worry when reader almost drowns because of a big wave crashing in to her. Takes place during the mid 80s. There might be inacuresies like distance and locations.

Sorry if its a mess but enjoy anyway, also don't mind any spelling mistakes thank you

Words: 2286

Warings : angst and drowning

Finaly summer and you know what that means. Nice weather, staying up late listening to music. And just playing around in general, but summer also ment swimming of course.

Y/n had invited Brian and roger along to go to the beach. John had gone away with his wife on holyday while Freddie stayed at home with his boyfriend jim.

She stood outside freddie's house where they spent the night prior and beeped the horn of her car.

Freddie opend up the window "Oh y/n are you here to pick up roger and Brian?"

"Yes i am we are suposed to go to the beach, could you sent them down?"

"Yeah sure, hey! Your taxi is here you better hurry up And don't keep the lady waiting! They are on their way" he smiled

"Thanks Fred, if i find some Nice shels i take them with me for you"

"Thank you y/n you are an absolute sweetheart" he blew her a kiss. At that moment both Brian and roger walked out the front door and placed their stuff in the back of the car. "Ah there They are".

Jim stood behind Freddie and waved "have fun you three and stay safe near the shore, they said that the waves could be quite high at this time of year".

"Don't worry we will be fine"

"Alright have fun" jim and Freddie closed the window.

"Hey boys" she grind and opend the pasenger side door. Brian sat down next to her.

"Hello y/n"

"Hello doll" said roger as he sat down behind her and kissed her cheek "Nice car"

"Thanks Roger it was my dad's car i got it for my birthday a year ago

"Oh Nice do you know what type it is?"

"If im correct its a Tri-Power… 1958 Bonneville convertible" she started the car and drove of towards the beach (idk where the beach is located but lets pretent its 30 minuts away or so)

"Oh verry Nice indeed" he said and placed his sunglasses on his face And leaned back against the Seat.

"So did you two have a good night at Fred his home?"

This time Brian spoke up "yeah it was alright we watched some telly and drank and eat some Nice food thats all."

"Hmm intresting you two wernt intruding to fred and jim their relation ship wernt you two?"

"Oh god no y/n"

"Just joking bri just joking" she laught, y/n focused on the road again "we will be there in 10 minuts i think"

"Yes finaly swimming"

"Calm down roger" Brian laught

Just as y/n had promiced they had arived in 10 minuts at the beach "We have arived". Roger jumped over the side of the car and grabed the beach ball and placed it in the sand. He pulled his shirt and pants off under it weren his swimming trunks. Brian and y/n did the same. (What you Brian and roger wear )

"Nice shorts guys" she huged Brian from behind

"Looking very Nice yourself princess"

"Why thank you" she plucked the sunglasss from roger his face and put them on "oh wow thats to mutch"

Roger grabed his glases from her hands and put them back on "that are my presciption sunglasses sweetheart"

"I should have known, Anyway lets go and play some beach vollyball"

"Alright who against who?"

"Um me against roger first and then you against roger and then me against you, how does that sound?"

"Sure sounds good, i'll keep the points"

"Alright" y/n nodded and waited thil roger was ready "you are going so down blondie"

"Ha! You think (your nickname)"

"Alright start" y/n trew up the ball and shot it over the net. It went a few times and then she shot it to the ground.

"Outch"

"Roger are you alright?"

"Yeah i am don't worry" he smiled. Once the game between y/n and roger was over she won with 5 against 3.

"Alright your turn brian" brian took her place and took his stand. "Ready?"

"Yep" he nodded

"Alright may the best win"

"Its on poodle"

"Hey! Oh you are so going to get it rog" he smirked

The boys played for about 6 minuts thill it was over. It was 4 against 4.

"Alright who makes the next point wins" they both noded, Brian threw up the ball over the net. It went over and over for about 1 minut. Roger won

"Yes!"

"Well done rog, now you and me bri" they both took their stands once again and started the game. Once again 6 minuts later the game was over Brian had won by 5 against 3

"Good game y/n" he smiled

"Thanks" she wiped her face with a towel "Man its really hot ugh"

"Want to go swimming?"

Y/n took off her hat and placed it in her car "Yes i would love to" they all walked to the sea. "Cold cold cold"

Both Brian and roger laughed "yeah no shit y/n"

"Shut up rog" she laughed and splased him

"Hey! My hair, you are going to pay"

"Then you have to get me first." She ran further in to the water

"Be carefull the waves can be quite high" but y/n and roger dint hear him "guys come back don't go to far!"

Y/n had gone in thil her shoulders "try to get me now roger!"

"Roger she really needs to come back" Brian looked concerned

"Y/n! Come back its not save!"

"What?!" All of a sudden a big shadow fell over her, a big wave crashed in to her taking her under.

"Y/n!!" Both roger and Brian screamed as they tried to get to her

Y/n tried to swim up but couldnt wave after wave crashed in on her. She tried to breath but instead she took a big gulp of water in. Y/n was panicking and couldnt breath. She thought of brian and roger how she was going to leave them behind now. Y/n let go of her last breath as the sank to the bottom.

Roger and brian swam to her once they reached her, roger went under and picked her out the water. Both Brian and roger got back to the shore "brian go get help i try cpr we need a ambulance" Brian nodded and ran to get help

"God y/n please don't die on us" roger was literaly crying while trying to push the life back in to her chest. He pinched her nose close and put mouth to mouth "come on! You can't do this to us" all the while he continued to give her cpr.

The sound of sirens filled the air as the ambulance came to a hald on the beach two paremedics climbed out. At the same time Brian ran back to roger "is she alright?!"

"No i still don't have a respond" roger was crying But still preforming cpr

"We will take it from here sir" both the paremedics placed her on the brancard and started to weel her fast to the ambulance

"Can we come with you please?"

"If you drive after us then its fine but we can't take you with us in the ambulance

"Thank you" roger looked up "brian you need to drive i can't"

"Alright, but calm down now roger she's in good hands" Brian huged roger close and rubbed his back "im concerned to but y/n is one tough cookie"

Roger laught a bit " yeah she is..... we should go now" they both walked to the car Brian put the key in and turned it so they went after the ambulance. Once they arived they weeled her in to a hospital room.

In the back of the ambulance they were able to pump the water out of her lungs and get her to breath again, she wasn't conciouse but it was a good sign or so they hope.

Roger and Brian had to wait outside the room where y/n lay because they were doing some tests on her, so they decided to call John and Freddie

"Hello John deacon speaking"

"Hey John its me"

"Oh hey Brian hows everything?"

"It really could be better, we are at the hospital"

John sat up straight "hospital? Why whats wrong?"

"Its Y/n she almost drowned" it was silence on the other end "john?"

"Im on my way right now" and the phone hang up

He turned to roger "john is on his way can you call Freddie?"

"Sure" roger grabed the phone from Brian his hand and dialed Freddie his number

It rang a few times thill he picked up "with freddie Mercury how can i help you?"

"Oh fred thank god you are still home"

"You sound panicked roger whats wrong?"

"We are in the hospital, we were at the beach and we were messing around but y/n almost drowned because of our stuppid antics and..... we almost lost her"

As same with John, roger was met by silence "me and jim are on our way"

"Thanks you see you then"

About 20 minuts later john, Freddie and jim had arived at the hospital, they were waiting for the doctor to give a clear sign so that they could go in and see her.

A doctor walked in to the waiting room "wel we have good news and bad news, the good news is we managed to get all the water out of her lungs and she's breathing on her own, the bad news is that she's still unconsiouse"

"Oh thank goodness" brian placed a hand over his heart

"We did a couple of tests to see if there was anything ells like damege to the lungs but thats not the case, once she wakes up And taken care off she can go home"

"Thank you doctor, may we please see her?"

"Of course, if there is anything needed let us know"

"Thank you we will" the group walked in to the room, it was pretty light in there, it looked like they had walked in to heaven, John and Brian grabed a chair and sat down next to the bed while roger, Jim and freddie sat down at the table near the window.

"We should never have gone to the beach, this is all my fault"

"Roger don't be to harsh on yourself, it could have happend to anyone" Freddie placed his hand on Roger his shoulder

"But im the idiot who chased her in, im at fault"

Brian spoke up "rog it really isnt we all should have been more carefull, but like the doctor said everything will be alright, she just needs to wake up, and she will we just got to wait"

"Mabey you are right" he sighed and placed his hand under his chin and looked out the window.

A few hours had gone by without any indecation of her yet waking up, so they decided to leave and get some food, during the time they were gone y/n started to stire and wake up

"Ugh were am i? Why does my chest hurt so mutch" y/n blinked a few times against the light "this isnt my bedroom" she tried to sit up but couldnt because of the pain, plastic patches were put on her chest that were conected to the heart monitor she looked at them confused "what the hell happend?" Then y/n remembered, the beach, vollyball and roger chasing her and then the wave...."Oh god i almost drowned"

Then the door opend And the guys walked in with food and drinks, Brian looked up from the conversation "y/n you are awake!" He ran to her side and grabed her hand in his "we were so worried about you"

"Hey bri" She smiled softly "im sorry for worrying you all i dint mean for this to happen"

Roger stoot at the otherside of the bed and grabed her other hand "i shouldnt have chased you in to the water it was dangerous and i was so stuppid for doing so it almost got you killed"

"I know rog and im sorry to i should have watched out What i was doing" she squeezed their hands and gave a light kiss on them

John, jim and Freddie watched as they gave echoter their apolgies, and then the doctor walked in "ah miss y/l/n good to see that you are awake" he looked at the papers in his hand "everything seems to be in oder, do your lungs hurt?"

"A tiny bit but i asume it will go away in a few days"

"Yes it wil" he gave a smile "wel then if everything is alright and nothing hurts then you may go home"

"Really? Oh thats wonderfull thank you" then she looked down at her chest and pointed at patches that were still in its place "um about these"

"Oh don't worry a nurse will come soon and remove them for you"

"Alright thank you". About 10 minuts later the nurse came in to remove the patches, john freddie and jim had brought some clothes with them on their way to the hospital, once she got dressed they went on their way to go home "are you willing to drive Brian?"

"Yes of course i am, anything for you y/n". Roger went again with Brian and y/n while Jim and Freddie went with john.

"Wel see you all later i think its time for a lazy afternoon" said y/n as she waved them goodbye. Both roger and Brian stayed the night with her to make sure that everything would be going fine now. They promiced echoter that of they would go to the beach again one day that they would be more carefull.

The end

I hope you all enjoyed reading. ♥️♥️♥️

[x-reader-theater]

Okay but, my letter to female reader insert writers is almost to 1k notes? Um, thank you all so much for spreading this as much as you have! This is incredible! To all my male and Non-Binary/Gender Non-Conforming readers, I’m so happy you agree, and showing support for this invasion of our spaces! 

And to my female readers and writers, thank you for taking the time to listen to my, and my fellow male/gender non-conforming readers and writers thoughts. I have seen a little change so far, but this is a wider issue that effects more than just a couple people. This is a multi-fandom issue that can’t just be solved by one post. My female readers and writers, you have to show that you are serious by changing your posts, getting out of our tags, and making sure you clearly show who the reader is for, and make sure your writing makes sense to a non-female centric audience if you are writing something that is not just for women! 

Thank you for taking the time to listen to me, and thank you for almost 1k notes on the post. If you want to see the original post you can do so here. Also, please, please, please share your own experiences with this, vent your own frustrations, reblog artists work, especially male and non-binary/gender non-conforming writers. We barely get any notes as it is and it would mean the world if you could take the extra time to even just quick reblog. Supporting artists does not ruin the theme of your blog. Thank you, I love you all! 

[supercap2319]

"Have Scott or Peter said anything about your long blonde locks?" Y/N asked Warren.

Warren ran a hand through his soft hair and frowned. "No. Why?"

"You should cut it. It looks really hot." Y/N wiggled a finger as some scissors floated towards them.

"Y/N? Get those the fuck away from me." Warren put his hands protectively on his head.

[fallingprincess]

a pleasure to have around

Insert any male celebrity you want into this! :)

**

Summary: You make out at a party. It gets frisky. That’s it. That’s the plot.

Words: 1.4k

*****

You giggled lightly as you fell onto the black leather couch cushion with a dramatic sigh before smiling towards the man watching you curiously from the side. “Fancy seeing you here, mister.”

He laughed tipsily before taking a sip from the drink in his hand and grimacing at it. “You mean at a party at my best friend’s mansion? Odd, really.”

“Yes, so odd.” You nodded before extending your hand towards his glass.

He reluctantly handed the drink over and you took a big gulp before lightly coughing. You knew his signature drink was Jacky and coke but this was very very heavy on the Jacky. No wonder about the glassy look in his eyes. 

“How do you manage to get invited to these parties anyway?” he asked as he reached to steal the drink back from you, his fingers brushing against yours in the process. “Aren’t you in uni or something?”

You raised an eyebrow and quickly leaned your head against the side of his shoulder as you giggled up at his face. He still smelled the same. Amazing and heavenly. “As my teachers used to state it: I am a pleasure to have around.” 

You sighed heavily again, the alcohol you had previously been consuming running freely through your system, and scanned the crowd of people that had made it big, those that wanted to, and those that were just here to have some fun - people like you. “So what have you been up to then, Mr. Famous?” 

His eyes sparkled with mischief whilst he accepted your legs extending over his lap and then began mindlessly running his finger tips over the material of your jeans. “You know the usual. Trying to stay relevant, making money, pretending I care about instagram followers.”

Once again, you reached for his glass, your shoulder brushing against his, your fingers ghosting over his for just a second too long to be accidental. “Sounds very exciting.”

“Oh, it certainly is.” he responded sarcastically as his free hand ruffled through his hair; the other hand stayed firmly on your leg, stroking up and down, the up becoming higher and higher up towards your thigh with each stroke. “So what have you been doing except somehow sneaking into parties?”

You protested in fake outrage by gently boxing him against his shoulder, the alcohol making you feel needy for touch and company. “I told you I am a pleasure to be around.”

“Oh, that you certainly are.” he grinned, his eyes fixating on you, his gaze intense and captivating. 

You tried to muffle your laughter against his shoulder and then sat up straighter to tap his nose with your fingertip. “Could it be, that you are referring to the last time we were tipsy and bored and were immersed in some ironic french kissing in front of a giant poster of the Eiffel Tower?”

He pretended to bite into your finger, his hand wandering further and further up your thighs until it hooked under them to pull you closer into his lap. “I might be. How tipsy and bored are you right now?” 

You knew exactly what he wanted. 

And you knew exactly what your drunk and touch-starved alcohol-drowsed brain wanted. 

Yet you loved to toy with him, the lustful longing look on his face worth every second you had to wait for the actual prize. 

“Oh dear, are you implying what I think you are implying?” you asked quietly as your face drew closer to his, his eyes flickering towards your lips as he licked his own. 

“What if I am?”

You inched even closer, your nose almost bumping into his whilst blindly setting the glass onto the coffee table behind you. “That would be very naughty of you, wouldn’t it?” you whispered in a raunchy tone against his lips, his breath mixing with yours in the small sliver of air separating your faces. “People could see...”

He stiffened under you, a sound somewhere between a groan and grunt leaving his mouth as he exhaled. “Let them. Let’s give them a show.” 

You smiled giddily against him as his hands wandered from your legs upwards to cup your cheeks to close the last bit of distance between the two of you. Finally. 

Responding to his kiss instantly you moved to straddle his lap, your lips never leaving his in the process. 

He pulled you even closer, the roughness of his finger tips bracing against your sides as his hands slid down your back to settle against your ass. 

You sighed as he ground you into him and eagerly accepted his tongue finding yours. 

God, it had been a while. You knew he had been good at this. But you had almost forgotten how good. Wow. 

Kissing him as if your life depended on it, you ground into his hips again, the hardening under you only encouraging you more and more as he growled lowly against your lips. 

You didn’t know you could be this needy, every touch of his hands on your back, his fingers running under the material of your shirt intensified tenfold. You never wanted him to stop touching you. Fuck.

Coming up for air, you pulled his head slightly away by his hair and he hissed in pleasure before leaning his forehead against yours, his chest panting, your own heartbeat racing in synch. 

“I-” you started but he cut you off with a nod, his nose bumping lightly into yours at his sigh. 

“Yea.” 

The two of you broke into a knowing smile at the same time, your breaths still going fast and steady; but you wanted - you craved - more. 

Your fingers entangled in his hair you pulled him back in, your lips connecting with his anew, his tongue meeting yours in the middle and toying with yours before kissing you passionately and roughly again. 

You hummed against his lips when his arms wrapped around you to force you even tighter against his chest. Boy, you were not complaining. 

The needy grinding of your hips against his coaxed a heavenly moan from his mouth and you ate it up hungrily as you kissed along his jaw and downward his neck, careful not to leave any marks - he was a famous celebrity after all. 

“God, you drive me crazy.” he groaned against your neck, his hot breath ghosting over your skin and making the hair on your arms stand up in reaction. 

You grinned as you came up again, capturing his lips with yours expertly, his body responding to your advances instantly. 

Still grinding into him in a slow and lazy rhythm, his moans got more frequent, his panting heavier, until he stopped the movements with his strong hands holding your hips still, his hardness pulsating right against where you craved him the most. 

“You need to...calm down a bit...or we are gonna... have a problem.” he hushed out in between eager kisses, his tongue knowing just what to do to make you want more and more and more of him. How was he so exquisitely good at this?

Moving your hips against him teasingly and catching his bottom lip for a bite just as he hissed you whispered into his ear. “But it’s just getting fun, isn't it?”

He kissed you again, neediness and eagerness combining as his tongue became sloppier and his lips rougher and more demanding. God, you were enjoying every second of him riled up and to your feet like this. 

Mischief spelled on your face you finally pulled back, your hands wandering over his arms and into his hair where you began to massage his scalp lightly. “Maybe you are right and we should slow down a bit, though.”

He groaned when you started using your nails against his skin and he closed his eyes in ecstasy and pleasure alike.  

As if on accident you ground into him again, a frustrated and needy whine leaving his lips as he reached out to kiss you again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Bucking into you from below with a desperate moan he ultimately leaned his forehead against your shoulder and shook his head; your nails still running slowly up and down the nape of his neck. “You know you really are a pleasure to have around.”

*****

I have wanted to try this new thing of not writing tailored to a certain person. I will just tag some people I like and that my mutuals seem to like. Let me know what you think and if I should write more in this style ♥

[bluesfortheredj]

The Talk.

Talk of an STD and a little bit of depression ahead. No male named, so will tag all those I write for.

His fingertips glide over the warm skin of your neck, making their way down from your jaw to your shoulder, then he slips your vest and bra straps down to your arm while his tongue swirls around yours tantalisingly slowly. Your hands move from his waist to slip their way up the front of his shirt and eventually clasp together at the back of his neck. The kiss had made your mind go completely blank, but as soon as you feel your other straps fall from your shoulder you’re snapped back to reality with a gasp that breaks you from his lips all too suddenly.

“I can’t,” you breathe, letting go of him immediately and pulling your straps back into position, “I really can’t.”

“Do you not want to be with me?” he asks with a slightly furrowed brow.

“I do! I really do, trust me. But I can’t.”

“What do you mean by can’t? Talk to me, (Y/N), please,” he begs.

This wasn’t the first time you’d almost got caught up in the moment, it was so easily done; especially when he caressed your face so sweetly with his slender fingers while his lips left a trail of fire down the side of your neck. You’d always managed to stop in time though, but you knew your excuses were wearing thin and the truth would have to come out one day, and it was looking as though today would be it. Tears were already building up in your eyes and you knew you couldn’t sob your way through this difficult conversation; he needed to hear every detail loud and clear. No other relationship had got this far because you’d been quick to end things before the need for this conversation would arise, yet things were so different with him, and you hadn’t been able to do your usual dump and run.

“How about you go and sit in the living room and I’ll get us a cup of tea, yeah?” he questions desperately, trying to get you to stay instead of run judging by the terrified look in your eyes.

You nod slowly, “yeah, okay.”

He walks down the hallway, the two of you only reaching the bottom of the stairs anyway, and you watch him until he’s out of sight before sighing and making your way into the lounge and perching yourself on the edge of his sofa. It’s the longest five minutes of your life as you await his entrance and he can’t help but give you a smile when he sees you practically ready to run at the drop of a hat.

“You can sit back and make yourself comfortable,” he encourages softly, “it’s okay.”

“Oh… yeah,” you reply nervously as you shuffle yourself backwards.

“Where would you be comfortable with me sitting?”

“Uh… probably the other end?”

“Right,” he nods, stepping back after placing your tea down on the coffee table in front of you and settling into the opposite corner of the sofa.

There’s a long pause as you think carefully about how to say what you need to without bursting into tears or making a run for the front door to avoid it altogether, and your gaze alternates from him to your cup, then finally to your hands that are fiddling with the inner seam of your jeans anxiously.

“I… I don’t really know how to say this… I’ve never had to do this before… I’ve never come this far in a relationship because I’ve been so scared of this conversation.”

He nods slowly, unsure of whether to say anything or not.

“With you though, it’s different, and no matter how much I didn’t want to face this, I couldn’t bring myself to leave you.”

“Well that’s a relief,” he chuckles.

“I wouldn’t say that just yet; you haven’t heard what I have to tell you.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“You’re going to hate me,” you say, inhaling a sob that was threatening to escape as you reach for your cup.

From the corner of your eye you can see him moving to reach out for you, “no, please, don’t,” you say as you put your free hand up to stop him, “please.”

“Okay,” he whispers, knowing this must be serious.

The hand that lifts your cup shakes as it makes its way to your lips and you take a tentative sip of the hot drink before returning it to the coaster for fear of spilling it onto your lap. You take a deep breath and close your eyes as if you’re about to dive into a pool, then the words that had never left your mouth before suddenly come tumbling out in three quick bursts, “I’ve got herpes.”

You hold your breath and clench your fists as if bracing for impact with your eyes squeezed tightly shut, and your body is completely frozen in place while you wait for some sort of reaction; him getting as far away from you as possible, him grimacing at the thought of you, him shouting at you to get out of his house… the possibilities were endless. It must be only thirty seconds until you feel him moving along the cushions and pressing his body against your side as he wraps an arm around your tense figure, yet it feels like forever, and you’re still unsure as to whether you should relax or not.

“Talk to me,” he encourages softly.

You shrug him off as carefully as you can then huddle against the arm of the sofa until he backs away a little and gives you some space, then you cuddle your cup in your lap and keep your eyes fixed on the liquid inside it as you bite back tears.

“I don’t really know what to say,” you eventually reply, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Talk me through what happened,” he whispers, “you seem to expect me to be horrified at this revelation; why?”

“Because I was when it happened. I felt sick constantly, I was disgusted by myself, it made me feel dirty and repulsive, and…” you pause as you shudder at all those thoughts that had invaded your mind all those years ago, “…it was only the second person I’d ever slept with, despite what this sort of thing connotes. He went down on me, there was nothing visible around his mouth, but when I was diagnosed it was confirmed it was the oral type.”

You have to stop as a sob erupts and the first tears begin to fall down your cheeks.

“When I told him he said he couldn’t see how it was him,” you scoff, remembering how hurt you’d felt when he accused you of lying, “as if I’d lie! Absolute bastard.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” he sighs, reaching out to your back and stroking it gently.

“Then when I confided in a couple of close friends I had one say ‘why don’t you just get with him, then it doesn’t matter?’ and the other who was male said ‘it’s a shame we can’t mess around now’,” you laugh through the tears before returning your cup to the table and dropping your face into the palms of your hands as you heave out one long sob.

He can’t hold himself back any longer and he leans forward to wrap his arms around your shaking body so he can then pull you back to rest against his chest while he lets himself fall against the back cushion, “it’s okay,” he soothes while he runs his fingers through your hair, “shhh. I hope you’re not friends with those people any more.”

You shake your head and he nods in approval, “good!”

“I won’t blame you if you never want to see me again,” you mumble, “I won’t mind if you want me to leave.”

“Leave?!” he laughs, “what are you on about?! Do you really think I’d chuck you out just because of this?”

You lift yourself off of his torso but still avoid any eye contact with him, “I would if I were you. You don’t have to deal with this if you don’t want to; it’s my problem.”

“First off it’s not a problem, and secondly you’re meant to share things when you’re with someone, so anything that’s bothering you is our thing to sort out, okay?”

“You’re being too nice. You can’t say this hasn’t changed how you think about me though, and I understand that you won’t want to touch me; I felt exactly the same. I was scared of my own body for so long, it took me years to build up the courage to touch myself after everything.”

“(Y/N),” he exhales sadly, “I’m not scared, and the only way it’s changed how I think about you is that now I know exactly how strong you are. I’m a little intimidated in all honesty!”

“Don’t be silly,” you scoff, then wipe your face with your hands, “can I use your bathroom?”

“You don’t need to ask. Of course you can.”

You scurry out of the room, still feeling those old emotions laying heavy on your shoulders at your admission, and as soon as you shut and lock the door to the bathroom behind you, you let out heaving sobs as your hands grip the sides of the sink. The shame, the sensation of dirtiness, the thoughts of self loathing all come rushing to the surface so quickly you feel as though you’re about to vomit. You manage to lift your eyes to the small mirror on the windowsill in front of where you’re standing and you immediately see a different person to the one you were expecting to see; you’re older now, stronger than what you’d been when it happened, and the changes in your face only reminded you how far you’d come since then. You take a deep breath before grabbing some loo roll and dabbing your eyes, then you click open the lock of the door and open in slowly. When you get to the living room he’s sitting there with his phone in his hand, his eyes fixed on the screen as his thumb scrolls.

“Did you know that around 70% of people have herpes but only about one in three will have symptoms?” he asks, his eyes not straying from the device, “so I could have it and not even know… plus apparently shedding of the virus decreases after time and after two years and barely any flare ups you hardly shed any of it, so the risk of passing it on is pretty minimal.”

“Yeah… I did know actually.”

“Shit, of course you did. That was stupid of me to say, I’m sorry. I’m just reading up, that’s all, and honestly none of this matters to me…” he pauses as he watches your face carefully and lowers his phone, “but I have a feeling that it’s not really the virus that’s the problem… it’s what it represents in your mind, right?”

You nod in reply; he was completely right and it had taken opening up to someone for you to realise it. There was absolutely nothing wrong with having herpes, you were one of millions, but the stigma and sequence of events that had played out during your time of being diagnosed was what had made you so terrified about admitting it.

“I’m really sorry,” you sigh, suddenly embarrassed about getting so worked up about it all, “that was more than a little dramatic.”

“Don’t be sorry! I’m honoured to be the first, and hopefully only, romantic partner you tell so of course it would be an emotional roller coaster for you. Don’t beat yourself up for feeling things so deeply, especially with everything that went on at the time and the shitty people you had around you,” he stands from the sofa and holds his arms out, “now will you please come here so I can hug you without you trying to escape me?”

You let out a short laugh at his question, “I think I can manage that.”

He leans his cheek against your hair as his arms envelop you into a tight embrace, “so… uh… when we do, y’know, I think you’re going to have to demonstrate what you like. I don’t wanna do it wrong after you having perfected it over the last few years.”

You lean away from him to see his face now slightly flushed, “I’m sure you don’t need any… oh! Right,” you chuckle, realising that he wanted to see you pleasure yourself, “I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

“I can’t promise I’ll keep my hands to myself though,” he winks, giving your bum a quick squeeze.

You smile up at him then bury your face into his neck as you resume the much needed cuddle and he sighs contentedly as his arms hold your now calm body.

[hemmingsmendess]

Cuts and Bruises- b.h.

Four/Billy(6 Underground) x reader

You help Billy clean up after a mission

Warnings: pain kink, cursing, sex, oral sex(m receiving)

Word count: 1,042

Rating: M(18+)

Billy let out a hiss as you dabbed the cuts across his face with antiseptic cream. As usual, he had almost got himself killed on the groups latest mission. 

“Quit moving around.” you laughed as you pulled him closer so you could continue to tend to his wounds. 

“Sorry, that stings like a bitch.” he gritted out, flinching as you placed a bandage on the gash over his eye. You sat back and let out a sigh as you looked over all the bruises forming on his skin. 

“Well, if you were a little more careful and didn’t get your ass beat on every damn mission, I wouldn’t have to do this.” you looked down to see the way he was holding his side before you let out a huff in slight annoyance. “Take your shirt off, let me see what’s wrong.” Billy grinned as he grabbed the hem of his shirt and removed the material from his torso. The grin quickly turned into a grimace as you turned him onto his side to inspect the multiple cuts on his ribs. 

“Christ.” you whispered before grabbing the first aid kit and getting to work on cleaning up the gashes that littered his chest. 

Billy smirked and grabbed your ass as you got on your knees to begin cleaning off the dried blood.

“How are you always so horny?” 

“Adrenaline.” he replied as he sent a playful smack to your thighs. His hands explored more of your backside when you began to cover the wounds in bandages, in turn running your hands over his abs..

You sat back and rolled your eyes before glancing down to his sweatpants. 

“Any injuries on your legs?” you knew what he was thinking the second his fucking smirk reappered on his face. 

“Maybe you should check.” he growled as he began to tug on the material of his pants. You groaned when they hit mid-thigh and his cock sprang up against his stomach, of course he skipped out on boxers today, insatiable bastard. 

“Fuck.” he sighed out before wrapping his hand around the base and giving it a few tugs. His hips bucked up as he reached the head, twisting his fist and running his thumb over the tip. 

“Bloody hell,” you whined when the wetness between your legs grew, “gonna do that by yourself or let me help?” 

“Go ahead.” a smile grew across your face as you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. He began to push further into your mouth before you pinned his hips to the bed. A loud cry left his lips when you accidentally brushed against one of the newer wounds on his torso. 

“F-fuck!” you pulled off as he growled out. You shot him a puzzled glance before brushing over the cut again. His hips jerked as a moan tore its way out of his chest. A wicked grin made its way onto your face.

“Do you like that?” 

“No!” he moaned as you repeated the action, “Ok, maybe.” 

“Good to know.” you smirked as you went back down on him. You hollow your cheeks as you went down further on his length, making the tip hit the back of your throat. Billy’s hips jerked up when you gagged slightly around him, causing more pressure on his shaft. You pulled back as soon as he began to thrust his hips, trying to push his cock deeper into your throat. 

“Wh-” he began to stutter out before he noticed you moving to straddle his hips. 

You gave him an innocent smile before you moved yourself so his cock was lined up with your entrance, slowly sinking down. 

“Oh fuck.” you groaned as you sat fully onto him, his girth stretching you deliciously. There was a moment of silence as you adjusted to his size before you pushed yourself onto your knees and dropped back down. Both of you let out moans at the feeling, his cock barely hitting the sweet spot deep inside you, your walls clenching down tightly on him.

“Shit!” Billy gritted out as you moved your hips in a circle. A wicked thought came to you as you began grinding down harshly on him. His hands reached up to grip your hips at the same moment you applied pressure onto the new cuts that littered his body.

“Fuck!” he cried out as pleasure shot down his spine. His back arched, causing his hips to thrust up harder into you. A whine escaped your lips as the tip of his cock hit your g-spot. 

“Fuck, you’re so deep.” you pant out as Billy continues to thrust up into you. You let out another whine as he moved one hand down from  your hip to rub circles around your clit. Your body jerked as the sensations you were feeling became almost too much to handle. 

“If you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last.” 

“If you come too soon, I’ll just make you come again.” Billy growled as he sped up the movement on your sensitive clit. You could feel yourself getting closer to falling over the edge when Billy’s cock started throbbing inside you. 

“Fuck! I-I’m gonna-” 

“Come on baby, come on my cock.” your body tensed as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, causing your walls to clench down impossibly tight on Billy’s length. You were so blissed out from your orgasm that you almost, almost, missed the moment Billy hit his release, spilling his seed deep inside of you. 

You collapsed so you were laying on his chest, both of you taking a moment to even out your breathing. 

“Fuck, I need to be beaten more often.” Billy laughed out as you pulled off his cock and laid  down next to him. 

“No, no you don’t.” you replied, looking down your body and seeing his release drip out of you. Billy groaned as he followed your gaze, moving his hand down to your pussy and scooping up some of his come. He smiled as he brought his hand up to your face, waiting for you to take his fingers into your mouth. He let out another groan as you sucked him clean. 

“If it leads to sex like this, yes I do.”   

[blueeyedheizer]

Let's get physical - Four/Billy x reader SMUT

WARNING: smut, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex

A/N: I really don't know how to feel about this one,, I love it but I also think I could've done better...but anyway I hope you guys enjoy it !! Also I listened to Physical by Dua Lipa while writing this ✨

------

“I'm so fucking done with this.” You exclaimed as you walked angrily towards yet another drawer in a attempt to find the Kalahari. Pulling out the jewelry harshly from it, you were dangerously tempted to flip everything around you as you were finding nothing but worthless pieces.

"Cheap! Fake!" Billy groaned, tossing the fake jewellery aside as he walked into the room. "Fuck, we ain't leaving until we find the Kalahari!"

After having completely wrecked the house, you finally laid your eyes on a box. You could feel by its texture that it was different from the ones you'd already seen. Flipping the box, you managed to rip it open, and your heart skipped a beat when you laid your eyes on the Kalahari. A wide grin spread across your face and you ran your fingers across the glittering jewels.

"Billy...." you exclaimed, your eyes never leaving the beautiful necklace in front of you. Your eyes were wide open in ecstasy, mesmerized by it. Billy's head snapped towards you and his face immediately lit up when he laid his eyes on the jewelry in your hands.

"Oh yes." he breathed, "Yes, yes, yes !" your boyfriend exclaimed as he walked towards you and pulled you in for a deep, grateful kiss. But your moment of glory was soon interrupted as bullets flew around the room and the police bursted into the building. Right at this moment, one of your teammate caught a bullet and fell hard on the floor with a heart wrenching scream.

"Shit! Come on, come on let's go!" Billy yelled as he took a hold of your arm. Grabbing the Kahalari, you stormed out of the room, followed by your other teammates and boyfriend. You started jumping from one building to another as you were chased by the authorities, running as fast as you could.

--

As soon as you stepped inside your shared apartment, you kicked the door shut and pressed your back against it, laughing wholeheartedly.

"Holy shit!" you exclaimed, trying to catch your breath. Billy was running a hand through his hair while the other gripped the necklace, his laugh echoing with yours. He was completely euphoric, pacing back and forth in front of you.

"We did it Billy!" you exclaimed and he laughed out loud, nodding while walking to you. He pressed his body against yours, pinning you gently against the door. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, and the brief touch made your skin burn. You looked up at him as he carefully put the Kalahari around your neck, hands wandering on the necklace.

"We're rich, Y/N." he laughed and pressed his lips against yours, kissing you softly. It was almost as if he hadn't kissed you in years and he’d finally been given the chance to. You hummed against his lips and cupped his cheeks with both hands, deepening the kiss. His own hands started traveling around your body, leaving goosebumps all over it.

"You did so good today baby." he muttered against your lips. Soon enough he was rubbing the side of your jawline with his thumb, gliding his lips down your neck with delicate kisses. You threw your head back, biting your bottom lip as you closed your eyes shut. ''God, do you have any idea how crazy you make me ?'' he growled against your lips.

"I don't know..." you whispered seductively. "How about you show me?"

Billy smirked against your lips, guiding his hands between your thighs and rubbing your heat through your jeans. You soon started grinding your hips against him, desperate for more friction.

"God, look at you."

"Fuck— please, Billy. Just do something." you moaned, feeling your breathing escalating quickly.

"I've got you babygirl." Before you could react, Billy dragged you into your shared bedroom and kicked the door shut behind you. He gently lifted you from your feet and carried you towards the bed. He gently laid you on the mattress and started unzipping your pants while his lips were exploring your body, earning soft little moans from you. He soon slid them down your legs and threw them on the other side of the room before positioning himself between your thighs and looking up to you with a smirk. You supported yourself on your elbows, watching as he placed a kiss on the inside of each of your thighs before gently pushing them further apart with his strong hands. With a groan, he pulled down your panties and licked a long stripe over your folds before covering your clit with his mouth, immediately sucking it. You moaned loudly, arching your back at the sudden feeling. You were grasping his hair, clinging desperately onto him as he pleasured you with his tongue.

"Ohh...fuck." He was so good at this. You could feel your legs start to shake and the necklace that was once cold around your neck now felt like it was burning. Soon enough, Billy inserted two fingers into your sensitive core, pumping them in and out with a quick and steady pace that had you cry out his name and rolling your hips against his hand. 

"R-right there baby....fuck, yes!" His fingers sped up inside you, which brought you closer to the edge. He pumped relentlessly into your most sensitive spot and you cried out in ecstasy, moaning his name over and over like a prayer, eyes fluttering close.

"F-fuck! Oh Billy– fuck, don't stop." you screamed, throwing your head back in intense pleasure. 

"I'm gonna give you everything you want babygirl. Everything." he moaned against your pussy and you whined, holding onto him for dear life.

"B-Billy, I'm gonna— oh, fuck, fuck yes." you panted as you boyfriend was hitting your sweet spot repeatedly until you were a whimpering, blubbering mess.

"Let go baby. Cum for me." Billy murmured, sucking your clit back into his mouth, causing you to let out a cry. Your fingers were gripping his hair so hard you were scared of hurting him, but his hums of appreciation reassured you. After a few more heavenly thrusts, you came with a loud cry, your walls squeezing around his fingers so hard it almost hurt. The two of you collapsed on the mattress, trying to catch your breath. Billy had his head on your chest and his fingers were running across the necklace that was still around your neck. With a smirk, you cupped his cheeks in between your hands and started kissing him again before rolling over so that you could be on top.

"My turn." you murmured against his lips with a smirk. You moved to position yourself above him and ran your hands down his chest, leaving a hot trail on his skin. His heart was pounding out of his chest, lungs fighting desperately for air as he admired your naked body. Your boyfriend's eyes fluttered shut as you pulled his boxers down and took his cock into your hand, swiping your thumb over the tip, stroking him slowly. "You like that baby?" you purred in his ear, leaving hot kisses along his jawline, making your way down to his neck.

''Christ, Y/N...'' he managed to blurt out between tightly gritted teeth. Billy was a panting mess, his fists clenching on the sheets.

"You want me so much, don't you?"

He swallowed and nodded, unable to let anything out other than a loud groan. You cupped his cheek with one hand and attached your lips to his, kissing him hungrily. Without any warning, you set the tip of his cock at your entrance and slowly eased down on his his member, earning a loud groan from him. His hands were planted on your waist, holding you tightly as he guided you along his length and within seconds the room was filled with loud whimpers and moans coming from both of you. The walls were awfully thin and you knew you were being way too loud, but you absolutely couldn't bring yourself to care. 

"Jesus, fuck Y/N! You feel so fucking good.'' Billy growled and you whined, his words sending a rush of heat through your body.

''God, Billy.'' you cried out, bouncing down on him harder and faster, not caring about the headboard banging loudly against the wall. Your head was thrown back, eyelids squeezed shut as you rode him through his orgasm, feeling your own coming dangerously close.

''Harder, baby. Harder. Show me- fuck ! Show me what you can do.'' Billy knew he wasn't going to last as you pressed your hands against his chest and started riding him faster, taking every inch of him inside you. Your moans were getting louder and louder with each thrust, determined to send him over the edge.

And you did.

''Y/N, Fuck !'' An animalistic sound erupted up from his throat as he climaxed, his body jerking as he shoot his loads deep inside you. You quickly followed as you reached your second orgasm, your walls clenching around him.

"Holy shit." you breathed out, leaning in to kiss him once more, catching your breath for a second before getting off him. You collapsed next to him and his hands immediately went through your hair, stroking it softly. You started giggling and Billy furrowed his eyebrows as a small smile adored his features. "What's so funny?"

"You think the old lady heard us?" you asked with a cheesy grin and your boyfriend chuckled.

"I don't know, and I don't care. We'll be out of this shithole of an apartment soon anyway." he said as he kissed your temple. You cuddled up against him and pressed a kiss to his bare torso and you drifted off to sleep with a small smile on your face, excited for your future as a billionaire.