#he's the type of man i hear gimme gimme gimme by abba when i look at him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunflowerhazzavol6 · 5 years ago

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Man After Midnight

Y/N is out for the night on a quest to find someone to sleep with and forget about the next day. The last thing she expects is to run into someone and find herself feeling like she's known them forever. 4k words of fluff, partying, drinking, and cursing (will most likely end up being a series). Enjoy!

Y/n was always up to go out.

It was fun, to get drunk, to party with her friends. It was fun to go to bars all dressed up, flirt with guys that she had absolutely no intentions of committing to. She supposed that was the case for most people her age; making decisions based on the theory that they were invincible. That there was no way they could get hurt when there was nothing and no one they were responsible for.

Tonight was no different than any other. San Francisco was bustling with its usual nightlife, twenty-something year olds stumbling into the entrance of the next bar they were going into. Y/n and her friends had just left one of their favorite places, beginning to head to the next destination for the night.

“Can you believe that guy?” Lydia, one of her friends, frustratedly wipes at her jacket with an old receipt from her purse. “Clumsily grinding on someone and then spilling your drink all over them is not a one way ticket inside their pants.”

“God, it was like watching a train wreck!” Her other friend Veronica skips around them holding a flask. “So bad you want to look away and yet you can’t help but watch.”

Y/n laughs, plucking the flask from her hand. “I kind of feel bad for the guy. He clearly had no clue what he was doing.” She takes a swig, coughing and handing it off to Penelope.

“Fuck that. He was definitely just drunk, not inexperienced.” Penelope says, rolling her eyes.

“Fuck him and fuck these hills. A bitch wants to be able to wear heels out without breaking an ankle.” Lydia groans.

“Cheers to that.” Y/n takes another sip and the girls pass it around, laughing.

Y/n never really got time with her girl friends like this. She was currently working at a coffee shop part time while she got her degree in digital marketing, which meant that between studying and work, she had no time to herself.

“You know, I think this is the one.” Y/n says at a pause in the conversation.

“The one?” Veronica laughs, narrowly avoiding a very drunk couple sloppily making out against a storefront. “You said the last one was ‘the one’.”

“I feel it this time.” Y/n turns to walk backwards to face her friends, entering the bar. “Mama is gonna get her p- Oh!” She falls against someone, laughing.”Fuck, I’m sorry, I should have-”

“Not been walking backwards?” The person interrupts her with a thick British accent, laughing heartily. She turns around, biting her lip when she sees the victim of her drunkenness.

“Well shit, of all the people to fall into...” Lydia says under her breath. Penelope elbows her in the side to shut her up.

Lydia was right. He was hot. Tattoos were littered around his tan arms, the sleeves of his white button up pushed past his elbows. A handful of the top buttons were undone, tattoos of sparrows just below his collar bones peeking out from underneath the fabric. Beautiful pale green eyes looked at her through long, thick eyelashes. His hair was a curly mop on top of his head, slick with sweat from dancing. The worst of it all was his smile. Blindingly white, crooked, dimples. That smile could make an honest woman out of her and she wouldn't mind one bit.

“Fuck- I mean, I’m sorry. You’re right, I probably shouldn’t be walking backwards, let alone walking backwards while drunk.” She laughs, holding out her hand. “No harm no foul?”

“None at all.” He shakes it firmly, his skin rough and calloused. Musician hands. She could feel them on the pads of his fingers.

“Well, we’ll be on our way then.” She says, nodding toward the inside of the club.

“Good luck to you, don’t back into anyone else.” He flashes his crooked grin at her again before his blonde-haired friend slaps him on the back and leads him out.

“What the fuck, y/n!” Lydia says, smacking her friend’s shoulder with her clutch. “He was the one! That was fate!”

“There's no way I’m going to talk it up with a guy that I quite literally ran into.” Y/n leads the group to the bar, ordering herself a drink.

“The sex gods not only sent you a bedtime buddy, they sent you one of their fucking own. Did you even see that man? Are you blind? Does your insurance cover eye care?”

“Forget about it.” She laughs. “They're probably long gone by now anyways.”

“I think Lydia is right. Anyone after looking at him is going to be mediocre at best.” Penelope says, sitting on the stool beside her.

“Whatever, I’ll find someone else.” Y/n says, trying to play it off. Maybe she had been to quick to brush him off. Usually she was the type to be forward and flirtatious, not the type to be nervous. “So, shots?”

As usual, their lucky bar had been a total success. Lydia had already left with a tall guy that said he was an engineer. (“Smart guys have the best dick, trust me.” She had said before she left. “They bottle up all that sexuality in high school and then release the beast when they go out into the real world.”) Veronica had met a guy and was currently pulling him off the dance floor to y/n and Penelope at the bar.

“Derek here says that there's this great spot just a block over with a bar downstairs and a DJ on the roof. Wanna go?”

“Sure.” Y/n shrugs. “Penny?”

“I think I’m going to head back home. I’ve got work in the morning. Should I wait up for you guys?”

“No, don’t worry about it, get some rest.” Y/n kisses her on the cheek, squeezing her arm. “Text me when you get there, alright?”

“Yeah, no problem. Be safe.”

“Always.” Veronica says, grabbing y/n’s arm. She barely has time to slap down money for the tab before she's pulled back out onto the street.

Veronica spends the walk clinging to Derek, leaving y/n to her thoughts. Maybe she was stupid for not talking to that guy more. He was really good-looking, and nice enough to not yell at her for tumbling into him. Not to mention that smile. God, she had never thought about a smile so goddamn much. She shakes her head to rid herself of those thoughts. He was long gone anyways, and if she wanted to get any tonight, this was the last stop.

Derek was right, this place was very cool. The bar was dimly lit and clearly busy, people ordering drinks and laughing with their friends. Even from down here she could hear the vibrations of the bass coming from the rooftop.

“Wanna dance?” Veronica yells over the noise.

“Sure! Drinks?”

“I’ve got them. You guys head upstairs.” Derek says, waving them off. Veronica shrugs with a laugh and grabs y/n’s hand to pull her upstairs.

If y/n was impressed by the bar portion, she was blown away by the rooftop. Tables were spread around the edge of a large dance floor brimming with bodies, lights strung up back and forth overhead of them. The DJ had his own light set up as well, colorful lasers darting back and forth to the beat of the music. The sky was clear above them to top it all off, no token San Francisco haze to block their view of the stars. Y/n was suddenly grateful for the rain she had complained about in the morning.

“Fuck, this song is my shit!” Veronica exclaims as ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme’ by ABBA comes on.

“Ronnie it's our girl group song!” She laughs, grabbing her friends hands.

“Hell yeah it is.” She takes two shots from the mini-bar adjacent to the dance floor, handing one to y/n and holding her own up. “To getting a man after midnight.”

“To getting a man after midnight.” Y/n grins, tapping their glasses together and downing the amber liquid. She coughs slightly before setting the glass back down and making her way to the dance floor.

Song after song plays, y/n somehow making her way to the center of the crowd of people. It was too tight for anyone to really dance, so she was just jumping around laughing and having fun. This was what it was about. What all the stress and hard work came back to. This. Letting go, having fun, dancing next to strangers who were equally as drunk and stressed and tired. A mass of twenty-somethings tossing away every bad part of their life. Y/n closes her eyes to soak it all in, tipping her head towards the sky.

“Fancy seeing you here. Run into anyone else yet?” A British accent yells over the music next to her. She opens her eyes.

“Not way.” She laughs, pushing her hair out of her face. “Hey!”

“You didn’t answer my question.” He grins, looking up at the DJ when the song changes.

“Not so far. The night is still young, though.”

“Right, of course. Silly me to think one would only step on a single person in a night.”

“I didn’t step on you!”

He looks down at his shoes, which were scuffed up at the point.

“Shit, my bad. I’ll pay for a shining?”

“Don’t worry about it. Pay me back with a drink?”

Y/n smiles. “I’d love to.”

The man takes her hand and weaves through the crowd of people back down to the bar. By now most of the crowd had either left or were upstairs, leaving the bar quiet besides a handful of people and the muffled noises from upstairs.

“What do you drink?” She asks, sitting on a stool.

“I’ll have a scotch, please.” He says, sitting beside her.

“A martini for me, and a scotch for...”

“Harry.” He finishes. “Thanks.” He says to the bartender.

“Y/n.” She says to him. “Nice to officially introduce myself in a way other than fucking up your shoe.”

“Indeed.” He laughs. “Well, y/n, where are you from?”

“Really? We’re starting with that question?”

“Is that a bad question to start with?” The corner of his mouth turns up, amused.

“A terrible one. People always ask that when they’re trying to get to know you, but I’ve found that where someone is from is the least telling information there is.”

“And why is that.” He grabs his scotch when it's set in front of him, nodding his head to the bartender in thanks.

“Well, there's a reason people left wherever they’re from. A reason why they wanted to get out of that place as soon as they could. So, therefore, they are likely the opposite of wherever they’re from and that information is irrelevant.”

“Thats contradictory. If they’re the opposite of wherever they’re from, doesn’t that tell you what they’re like anyways? Perhaps not so plainly, but it still does all the same.”

Y/n pauses and then laughs. “You got me there.”

“So then, where are you from?” He tries again.

“A small town outside of Chicago.”

“Aha. A midwesterner.”

“See, these are the exact kind of assumptions I wanted to avoid.” She takes a sip of her martini.

“You don’t want people to assume you’re nice?”

“I don’t want people to assume I’m a pushover.” She corrects.

“Darling, I have no assumptions whatsoever.” He turns in his seat to face her. “I’m from Cheshire, England. A little place called Holmes Chapel.”

“Little place? You’re from a small town?”

“Population 5,000.” He shrugs.

“I just assume every English person I meet is from London.”

“That's very American of you.” He laughs. “But I suppose I can’t judge you for that, I assume everyone is from LA or New York.”

“Is there anything about me that screams LA?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Nothing. As soon as your large midwesterner feet landed on my posh English shoes I knew exactly the type you were.”

“Did not!” She smacks his shoulder jokingly.

“’Did not’ indeed. That would have been cool, though.”

Y/n laughs, finishing her drink. Usually by this time she would have been in between the sheets with this stranger, and definitely wouldn’t know where he was from (or maybe even his name). Something was different about Harry. Maybe it was his teasing, or maybe she just wasn’t drunk enough. Or maybe it was because she felt like she had already known him for forever, which seemed crazy even to her.

“Hey.” Harry clears his throat, setting his empty glass down. “What do you say we get out of here?”

“And go where?” She bites her lower lip, running a hand through her hair. Maybe she had spoken too soon and this was just foreplay after all.

“It's a really clear night for San Francisco, right? My friend told me about this place where you can see the Golden and the entire bay. We could pick up a drink on the way, if you’re interested.”

“I am interested. Let me just let my friend know I’m leaving and we’ll meet back on the street?”

“Absolutely.” He grins lopsidedly, standing up and then helping her out of her chair.

“I’ll be right back, I promise.” She sets down money for the tab and then walks back up the stairs, finding Veronica.

“You found who?” She yells over the music, grinning. “No fucking way!”

“Yes fucking way.” Y/n grins. “So I’m leaving with him right now, if you’re good with Derek.”

“Absolutely I am. Go get that dick, baby!” She says, high-fiving her. “I guess you were right about that bar being ‘the one’, huh?”

Y/n rolls her eyes, squeezing her friend’s arm before making her way back down to the street. Harry is standing just outside of a taxi, leaning against it. He immediately smiles when he sees her, standing up and opening the door. “Ready?”

“To leave with a man I violently assaulted and just met? I guess.” She jokes, sliding into the car. He slides in next to her, leaning towards the driver, saying something she couldn’t hear.

“Alright, what other get to know you question can I bore you with?” He asks, sitting back.

“What brings you here?”

“What brings you here?” He repeats, looking at her.

“No, I’m asking you.” Y/n laughs, crossing her legs. “No offense, but your accent puts you heavily out of place.”

“Is that so? I hadn’t noticed.” He twists a ring around his middle finger. “I’m here on business. I work for a record label seeking new talent.”

“I would expect you to be a musician.”

“Now who’s assuming?” He teases, running his tongue along his lower lip. “I mean, I am one. A musician, I mean. I write stuff for people sometimes, and just for myself, but I prefer being on the sidelines for the time being.” He shrugs.

“So you sing?”

“I do.”

“That's cool. I wish I had a talent like that.”

“Tell me what you’re good at then.”

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of humility?”

“A bit, but you don’t strike me as someone shy.” He glances out the window when they stop at a 7/11, smiling. “Press pause on that, looks like we’re stopped at the epitome of class winery. Thanks for the ride, mate.” He hands the driver some cash, opening the door and helping y/n out.

“7/11? Really?” She laughs.

“Can you think of anywhere else open at nearly three in the morning that sells wine?”

“So we’re drinking wine? That’s very classy of you.”

“I’m trying to impress you, what can I say?” He shrugs. The door chimes when he opens it for her, following behind her and waving to the bored clerk. She walks to the wine section, Harry standing behind her with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “This isn’t your first midnight 7/11 wine run, I’m assuming.”

“What makes you say that?” She bites her lower lip, looking back at him.

He looks at her mouth and then back up at her eyes. “No reason. You just went straight for the wine section without so much as a glance at any of the directory signs.”

“So what if I have?” She turns back to the shelf, surveying the selection. “Are you a white or red wine type of guy?”

“I feel like that's a trick question, seeing as how you’re obviously an expert on 7/11 wine.” He grins when she looks back at him, glaring. “Are you going to judge me?”

“Would I ever?”

He snorts. “White. Chardonnay especially.”

“I would never have pegged you for a white wine bitch.”

“Hey! What happened to no judgement?”

“That was before you revealed you were a basic white wine bitch.” She grabs a bottle, pressing it to his chest. She can feel the warmth of his skin radiating through his shirt to the back of her hand, and it gives her the chills. “It’s okay. Chardonnay is one of my favorites too.”

“Is it?” He pulls his lower lip into his mouth, suppressing a smile at her touch. He wraps his hand around the neck of the bottle, covering hers. “Guess we’ll have to settle on that then, shall we?”

“We shall.” She lets go of the bottle, casually walking to the aisle full of snacks and grabbing a bag of Doritos.

“Wine and Doritos?” Harry quirked up an eyebrow.

“Wine and cheese is considered fancy and socially appropriate. Why not wine and… nacho cheese?”

“Right, of course,” He laughs, reaching over her to grab oreos. His arm was positioned beside her head like a boy leaning against his girlfriends locker in every high school rom com, and she wasn’t sure if the heat in her cheeks was from the alcohol or from his proximity. “And we can’t forget the chocolate.”

“It would be an absolute crime to consume wine without chocolate.” She laughs.

“Precisely.” He takes the bag or Doritos from her hand, walking to the clerk and paying for their haul.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Y/n says, following him out the door. “Pay for everything. I could have pitched in.”

“Don’t worry yourself with it. I’m the one that asked you out, remember?”

“Asked me out? Is this a date?”

He shrugs, smiling slyly. “It’s whatever you want it to be. Come on, the spot is a short walk from here.”

Y/n looks down at her heels with a small sigh before wrinkling her nose and shrugging. “Are you going to be thoroughly disgusted if I take off my shoes?” She asks.

Harry snorts. “I wouldn’t want to wear them. Go ahead.”

She puts her hand on his shoulder to stabilize herself, stepping out of her heels. Harry bites his lip at the contact, placing his hand in between her shoulder blades to assist. “Better?”

“Much.”

He shakes his head with a slight laugh before continuing on again. He leads her up the street and then turns down an alleyway, checking behind him every once in awhile to see if she was keeping up. Y/n trudges behind him with her heels and Doritos in hand, glaring at him when he looks back at her for the fifth or sixth time. “I’m perfectly capable of keeping up.”

“I don’t doubt your abilities.” He falls into step beside her, taking the Doritos. She doesn’t say anything, but smiles to herself. Harry grins wider when they get to a steep hill, blocking their view of what's ahead.

“Are you serious? A hill?” She groans, watching him bound up easily with his long male legs.

“Because a hill is the worst thing you’ve encountered in your life?” He calls behind him. She raises her middle finger in the air. He laughs.

She stomps up the hill, mumbling to herself about being a sucker for tattoos and dimples.

“For fucks sake, y/n. You’re almost there. I promise it's worth it.”

“You don’t live here, of course you think it's-” She cuts herself off, looking out over the view. The Golden Gate bridge was as twinkling in the night, lit up from end to end just to the right of them. Sometimes you couldn't see the other end of it, but tonight you could see the whole city, lit up and peaceful as sleep fell over it. She could taste the salt in the air here, feel the slight humidity on her skin. She could feel the grass between her toes too, this hidden little hill having not been trampled by the feet of locals and tourists alike. He was right. “...worth it.”

“Right?” Harry grins, placing his hands on his hips pridefully. “Not bad for a non-local.”

“Not bad at all.” She approaches him finally, biting her lower lip. “So…”

“So…” He smiles lopsidedly, holding up the wine in one hand and their snacks in the other.

“So.” She grins, taking the wine from his hands and screwing the cap off. Classic, convenient cheap wine. No cork to get in the way. She raises it up in the air, smiling to herself. “To getting a man after midnight.” She says before taking a swig.

Harry snorts, taking the bottle from her and tipping it in her direction. “To getting a man after midnight.” Y/n giggles when he sputters slightly after taking a sip. “Oh. This is cheap cheap.”

“Hey, you’re the one that took us to 7/11.”

“Sure, blame the foreigner.” He grins, sitting on the top of a lone picnic table, his feet on the bench. Y/n drunkenly hoists herself up to sit beside him, their sides pressed together as they pass the bottle back and forth.

“You know, I’ve never done this.” Y/n says, looking out at the water.

“Never done what?” Harry asks, looking at her profile.

“Hung out with a guy after meeting him at a bar. Or even wanting to hang out with a guy after meeting him at a bar.” She shakes her head with a laugh. “I was kicking myself for not talking to you, and then there you were showing me your shoes. I am sorry about that, by the way.”

“Don’t be.” He smiles, putting his hand over hers when she starts to pass him the bottle so that they’re both holding it when he leans in. She meets his eyes, biting her lower lip. “I like them better scuffed up. It reminds me of you.”

She had never had a kiss like this one.

One like the movies, the kind where you move slowly and bump noses before you kiss. The kind where your teeth knock together because you’re both smiling, where the kiss turns for a serious note when he holds your face in his hands and kisses you so hard it makes you breathless. He was kissing her like that now, setting the bottle to the side before immediately pulling her closer. There was no hand traveling up her thigh, no nudging her hands to certain places. He was completely invested in her, not her body.

She moves her hand to his forearm, pulling herself closer to him until she's on her knees on the table. Her hand slides up his arm and to his neck, tipping his jaw to fit his mouth to hers like two pieces to a puzzle. He takes this as a que to pull her into his lap, resting a hand on her hip and another in her hair. “Harry…” She breathes.

He pulls away slightly, biting his lip to keep from smiling embarrassingly big. His hand moves from her hair down to her hip. “We kind of forgot about the snacks.” He says quietly.

Y/n laughs, rubbing her thumbs along his jaw and putting her forehead on his chest to catch her breath. He rubs her back, resting his chin on top of her head. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that was not a hook-up type of kiss.”

“That was not a hook-up type of kiss.” Y/n confirms, sitting back onto his thighs. “Whatsoever.”

“Well, in that case, what are you doing tomorrow?”

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff

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valhallamercury · 6 years ago

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musically inclined | boh rhap!roger taylor x f!reader

Summary: The reader is the lead singer of a girl group that mostly preforms covers of songs at local pubs. Roger, John, Brian and Freddie decide to take a break from all their constant shows, enjoying themselves at a pub (where the reader’s band happens to be playing at.)

A/N: so, this is my second Queen fic, so I hope you guys enjoy! The songs that the band covered are Mamma Mia by ABBA (Mamma Mia cover) and Gimme, Gimme, Gimme (A Man After Midnight) by ABBA and Hooked On A Feeling by Blue Swede. I know Gimme came out in the 80′s, but for the sake of this story it came out in the 70′s.

Warnings: Mild language, smoking, drinking

Word Count: 1,631

The amount of glitter on your skin made you feel sticky and itchy. Your eyes were decorated with glittery gold eyeshadow and your lips were covered in a thick paint-like red gloss. You wore high-waisted, wide legged jeans that were embroidered with sunflowers, a yellow button-up that you had tied around your waist, and brown platform boots. You felt anxiety bubbling in your stomach, but it was overflowed with excitement.

“Y/N! We’re on in a few!” Tonya called from outside of the bathroom. Tonya was one of the backup singers and the band’s lead guitarist. “Alright, Ton’.” You called back, turning to yourself and looking in the mirror again. “You got this, Y/N.” You whispered to yourself, holding your head up high. You gave yourself a confident smile, turning away and walking out the bathroom.

Roger climbed through the overcrowded pub, grumbling something under his breath. “Would you be quiet, Darling? You’re going to enjoy yourself tonight, Rog.” Freddie grinned at one of his best friends, clapping his hand on Roger’s back before climbing into a booth directly across the stage.

“Besides, they say the band that’s playing tonight is really good.” Brian said, sliding in on the other side of the booth as Deaky slid next to him. Roger rolled his eyes, sliding next to Freddie. “I have a lot of other things I could be doing right now,” Roger began, turning toward the stage as the band came out. “And I could give you their name’s right now.”

Roger could practically feel the eye roll of the other boys, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off the band. A very pretty girl walked out onto stage, picking the mic up from the stand. She sat down at the piano, adjusting the mic to the stand next to it. He watched her take a deep breath, looking back at her band mates, before beginning to play the notes of the song.

“I’ve been cheated by you since you know when,” She began, her voice soothing his sour mood. “So I made up my mind, it must come to an end. Look at me now, will I ever learn? I don’t know how but I suddenly lose control.”

Roger watched as the woman turned to look at the crowd, the two meeting eyes. She gave him a wink and he felt heat rise to his face.

Roger grinned as he looked over at the woman, drinking his beer as he watched her play the piano gracefully from across the bar. He needed to meet her after the show.

“There’s a fire within my soul...”

The beat kicked in, and the overcrowded pub went wild. The woman stood up from the piano, snatching the microphone from the stand again and walking over to the front of the stage.

“Just one look and I hear a bell ring, just one look and I forget everything.” She sang along happily, swinging her hips to the music. “Mamma mia, here we go again. My, my, how can I resist ya?”

Roger grinned devilishly as he watched her dance and sing across the stage. He needed to meet her after the show.

“How’s everybody feeling tonight?” You asked into the mic, grinning at the positive remarks from the audience. You swung your body, picking up the mic. “Make sure to tip your bartenders tonight, alright?”

“Now are last song for the night is for the single ladies tonight, including myself.” You winked out to the crowd, hearing a few whistles that made your eyes roll internally.

Your drummer, Diana, began the beat of the next song. You hummed along to yourself, waiting for the moment for you to jump in. You looked into the crowd again, locking eyes with the shaggy blonde haired man again. You felt your cheeks get red, glad that you had base on to cover it up.

“Half past twelve, and I’m watching the late show in my flat all alone, how I hate to spend the evening on my own.” You sang softly, tracing your hand down the microphone, knowing the blonde man was watching you.

“Autumn winds, blowing outside the window as I look around the room and it makes me so depressed to see the gloom.”

“There’s not a soul out there,” You sang along with Diana and Tonya singing along with you. “No one to hear my prayer.”

“Gimme! Gimme! Gimme a man after midnight, won’t somebody help me chase these shadows away,” You sang along, listening to the cheers of the audience as you held the mic close to you and waltzed around the stage. You met the eyes of the blonde man once again, smirking as he watched you. You winked at him, watching his face turn as red as it did when you had first winked at him. You watched as his friends began to tease him, making your smirk only grow. “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme a man after midnight, take me through the darkness to the break of the day.”

Roger watched as the band exited the stage, keeping his eyes on the main singer. He took a swig of his beer, turning back to his friends. He needed to meet that woman, or else he knew he would regret it for the rest of his life.

“You had quite the fun tonight, Rog.” Freddie teased, elbowing his companion. Roger rolled his eyes, setting his beer down on the table. “I’m gonna go smoke.” He said, getting up from the booth and walking through the overflowing pub. He made his way towards the back exit, looking around and seeing if anyone could help him find the band.

Roger turned to a well-dressed man, who he recognized as the man who had introduced the band before they preformed. “Excuse me, mate? Know where I could find the band?” He tapped the man’s shoulder. The man turned, exhaustion under his eyes being as clear as his sour mood. “They’re usually out there. They may be packed up by now so I would hurry if you’re trying to catch them.” He said in a monotonous way. Roger nodded as a thank you before beginning to head out to the exit that the man had pointed at.

He smoothed down his hair, making sure that the collar of his shirt was pressed down and that his jacket was straightened. He walked out the exit, only to have the woman’s beautiful voice fill his ears once again.

“IIIIIIIIIIII’m hooked on a feeling, I’m high on believing, that you’re in love with meeee,” You sang along, Diana drumming along against her thighs and Tonya strumming along on her guitar as the three of you sat on the trunk of your car.

The three of you laughed, grinning at each other as you calmed your singing. You took the cigarette from Diana’s mouth, taking a long drag for yourself. You heard the door open, looking over to see the blonde man walking out, hands in his jacket pockets as he searched around before locking eyes with you.

“There’s your lover boy.” Tonya teased, jabbing your side with her elbow. You shot her a dirty look, turning back to the man who was now walking towards you.

“Hey, Di, let’s go get drinks, okay?” Tonya said, reaching past you and tugging on Diana’s sleeve. Diana furrowed her brows in confusion as she looked up at Tonya, raising up the beer that she had in hand. Tonya tilted her head towards the man and Diana’s eyebrows shot up in understanding. “Right! Let’s get drinks!” Diana said, setting her beer down and hopping off the trunk before following Tonya into the pub.

“You did really well out there tonight.” The man said, once he was finally close enough. “Roger. Roger Taylor.” He said, the now familiar devilish grin plastered across his face as he held out his hand. “Thank you.” You smiled, reaching out for his hand and shaking it. “Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

“So, Y/N, still looking for a man for after midnight?” Roger asked, his grin only growing. You rolled your eyes. You had dealt with his type before: cocky, egotistical men who thought they could charm their way into a woman’s pants. Not you though, you were just as clever.

“Not quite midnight, is it though?” You said, feigning innocence as you arched one of your brows. “Besides, wouldn’t want to keep you from all of the millions of ladies who line up at your door, just begging to be fucked by the Roger Taylor.” You kept your composure calm, but the smirk that tugged in your lips was enough to say it all.

Roger raised a brow, the corner of his mouth turning upwards. “You put a dent in my pride, Miss L/N.” He playfully put a hand over his chest, pretending as if he had been struck right in the heart. You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips and the small smile that was forming across your face. Damn Roger Taylor and his shaggy blonde hair and undeniable charm. Damn him.

“Roger! Roger!” Another man, tall with curly black hair, stood outside the door and called for the blonde man. “C’mon mate! We gotta go!” He yelled, waving for him.

“I think that’s your cue.” You said, your own small smile forming on your lips. Roger sighed, looking down at his shoes before looking back at you. “Maybe I’ll see you around?” He asked, the hopefulness in his eyes too cute to ignore. Damn him.

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” You said back nonchalantly, leaning back against your hands. Roger grinned, turning and running toward the dark-haired man. As you watched him run away you felt a warm, bubbling sensation in your stomach that leaped up and splashed against your heart.

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