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illfoandillfie · 5 years ago

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Curtains - Part 4

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Roger x Reader

Summery: You turn Roger down

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst, an argument with some very mean words, rough sex, choking, badly handled Feelings

Words: 4,192 (longest chapter so far)

A/N: penultimate chapter is a bit of a downer lmao

Taglist (though notifications don’t seem to be working so hopefully ya’ll see this): @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @ezmina98 @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks

@bohemiansweede @rogershoe @lnnuend0 @funitrog

You’d managed to avoid Roger for a solid three weeks. It hadn’t been easy considering you went to the same uni and lived next door to each other and you still hadn’t hung your curtains, but you’d been managing alright. There’d been a lot of ducking into bathrooms or around corners when you saw him on campus. A lot of studying on your couch rather than in your room to avoid him knocking at your door again. A lot of leaving early and sneaking home when you knew he’d be playing at the pub or else crashing on friend’s couches when possible. Anything to avoid Roger and the questions he was sure to have about your cancelled date.

The night he’d asked you out had been a sleepless one despite what you’d told him, your brain keeping you up with misgivings about dating Roger. Sex with him was one thing but an actual date was a whole different ballgame, one you weren’t sure you wanted to play. You needed more time to think, weigh up what you wanted. Did you enjoy being around Roger? Or did you just like that he could get you off? Most of your conversations had happened just before you slept together, while you were too horny to think straight, or just after, while you were coming down from the high. Which made it hard to know if you actually liked him, or it was just the endorphins talking. He seemed sweet enough, if a little full of himself, from what you knew about him, but really he was a giant question mark. He might be a complete arsehole. Or a control freak. He might be a serial womanizer. Or a serial killer. So you’d called it off, the day after he’d asked you out. A purposeful accidental meeting on his way out of the house. It had taken hours of sitting by your front door, changing your mind over and over again as you waited for him to step outside and head towards his van. A small wave to get his attention and then, when he’d smiled and greeted you, an apologetic look and some bullshit about a family situation meaning you weren’t going to be able to see him on Saturday. The lack of sleep might actually have helped you sell your story. He’d looked disappointed but not half as disappointed as he was a minute later when he tried to reschedule, and you said you’d have to get back to him with a day that worked. Since then you’d done everything in your power to not see him. Ostensibly so you could think things through, give yourself some time to work out what you actually wanted, though the reality of it was closer to making excuses and hiding. Sometimes literally hiding. He’d come over a few times, sending you scurrying for cover in your bathroom. You’d found notes each time, once or twice accompanied by a flower, saying he really wanted to talk with you. You stopped reading them after the third one, though you didn’t throw them out. Just left them in a pile on your coffee table, waiting for you to get curious enough to take a peek. And now it had all gone to shit because you’d forgotten to account for his dumb friends.

“Y/N, can you just tell me what’s going on?” Freddie asked you, having cornered you on campus before you could think to escape his notice. You hadn’t even considered Freddie or anyone besides Roger wanting to talk to you about it. “Sorry Freddie but it’s really none of your business. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got t-” “Rog has been really bummed out since you cancelled on him. Moping around, playing the worst fucking music. Constantly, for two and a half weeks now. Just rubbish record after rubbish record. I think that entitles me to an explanation of what the hell happened between you.” “It just didn’t feel right,” you shrugged. “But fucking in the pub bathroom did?” “That’s different,” you said, annoyed that he was inserting himself in your business, judging your actions, “The sex was just sex, I never signed up to get involved. Besides, Roger isn’t the sort of guy I date.” “Bullshit,” “What? You think because I'm shy and find it hard to approach men that I can’t have a casual fling? That I’m so desperate for attention I’ll say yes to anyone?” “Darling you don’t have a monopoly on being shy,” He paused for a moment, eyeing you up, “Everything you just said is rubbish.” “Excuse me?” You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting indignantly for Freddie to continue. “It’s got nothing to do with things not feeling right or whatever else you’ve told yourself. It’s because you’re scared. I know you were scared to approach him when you moved in and you were scared to make a move on him at the pub. I saw you, hoping he’d notice you. And we all saw you after the show the other week, laughing at his jokes and all those little smiles when you thought no one was looking. You turned him down because you got scared.” “Fuck off Freddie. We hung out one time, you don’t know me and frankly neither does Roger.” “Isn’t that the point of going on a date though? To get to know each other?” “Maybe I don’t want him to know me. He only thinks he’s interested because I’ve been sleeping with him. As soon as it stops being fun or he finds someone new, he’ll ditch me.” “You need to give Roger more credit than that.” “No, what I need to do is get to class,” you pushed past him. Freddie's voice followed you as your stormed off, “Fine, Y/N, but can you at least talk to Roger about it?” You threw him the V over your shoulder as you walked away.

Still stewing over everything Freddie had said, you didn’t pay any attention to where you were walking. Wanker, you thought to yourself, what’s it to him anyway. Not my problem Roger’s in a shitty mood and has crap taste in music. Says a handful of sentences to me while we hung out in the van one time and he thinks he knows a single thing about me. Thinks he can butt into my business. It’s got nothing to do with him if I never see Roger again! You spent the next few minutes cursing Freddie and coming up with a list of things you wished you’d said to him, only stopping when you realised you were standing outside your front door, yelling a single, loud, “SHIT” into the air. That summed it up really. Shit. Everything was shit. Missing a class you really should have been at was shit, being cornered and read like a fucking book by Freddie was shit, not seeing Roger was shit. You decided to call the day what it was – a total fucking lost cause – and have a nap. Your bag thumped against the floor where you dropped it by the door, your shoes making equally loud bangs as you kicked them across the room. The small pile of notes still sat on the coffee table, taunting you, but you ignored it heading stright to your room. You shimmied out of your jeans and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over your head to block out the sun streaming in through the curtain-less door. God I've really got to fix that.

Just as you got settled you heard a tapping against the glass. You screwed your eyes shut, having a feeling you knew who causing the racket, and willed him to go away. He didn’t. Instead he tapped louder, his voice muffled by the glass as he called your name. “Y/N, I know you’re in there! I heard you swearing!” You buried your head under your pillow, trying to block him out. The constant tapping alone was getting on your nerves, never mind his voice. “I can fucking see you moving around! Can you please just talk to me?” “Go away Roger!” “Not until you talk to me!” “For fucks sake,” you hissed under your breath before throwing the covers back, “Fine!” You strode towards the door, yanking it open, “Fine, let's talk then.” “Drop the attitude Y/N. You’re the one who blew me off and then fucking disappeared for weeks, I just want to know why.” “Take the hint Roger, I don’t want to date you.” “Jesus, yeah I got that. Why are you being such a cunt about it though?” You stared at him for a few seconds, stung though you knew he was right. “Well? Are you going to say something, or just stand there?” You decided on neither, moving to shut the door in his face but he was too quick, wincing as it his his shoulder. “No, you owe me an explanation Y/N,” he said pushing the door wide enough to get inside, “What did I do? Something happened between me leaving and the next day when you cancelled and I want to know what the fuck it was,” “I came to my senses that’s what happened,” you stood your ground even as he invaded your personal space and a voice screamed in the back of your head to just stop and be honest. Roger shook his head, “You think you’re being so fucking clever, don’t you? Well you’re not. You’re just being a bitch.” “You don’t know me, Roger. You think cos we fucked a few times you know a single goddamn thing about me but you don’t.” “I had it right the first time.” “What?” “The first time I fucked you. Left as soon as I’d finished with you, that was the right idea. All that hanging around after shit was a waste of time.” “Yeah well, if you ask me none of it was worth it. Should have realised after the first time you weren’t a good enough fuck anyway. “That's bullshit and we both know it. Do you have any idea how fucking pathetic you looked, how desperate, waiting for me to notice you? One fucking word was all it took to have you spread your legs for me, and in a room full of strangers no less. Literally begged to suck me off last time, like a proper slut. You’re the easiest pussy I ever got, Y/N. And It was stupid of me to think you were worth more than the time it took me to cum.” “That’s how you feel is it?” “Yeah, it is,” “Really?” “Yes.” His voice was dripping with contempt as he glared at you.

There was a beat as Roger seemed to realise what he’d said, eyes widening in horror and then your hands were at his fly, nails catching against the denim as you almost tore the button off in your haste. “Y/N wh-” “Shut up and fuck me,” He still looked a little shocked as you made to pull his shirt off. “Jesus, do I have to do everything,” That reignited his frustration and he managed to do what you couldn’t, tearing a few of the buttons from your shirt, sending them scattering across the floor, as he pulled it open to reveal your breasts. You got a hand into his pants, tugging at him as he pushed you towards your bed, door left standing open behind him. There was no time to think, no time to talk. One minute you’d been cursing at each other and the next you were lying on your back with Roger roughly pulling you towards the edge of the mattress. He let go of you long enough to get his pants down, moving your underwear to the side as he lined himself up. Your back arched when he entered you and you gasped as he paused. “Fucking move, arsehole,” “Still a pathetic slut,” he growled back bringing a hand to your throat as he leaned over and rammed into you. He’d been rough with you before but not like this. Careless. Inconsiderate. Brutal. Roger found a harsh rhythm and stuck to it, tightening his grip on your throat whenever you opened your mouth to hurl another insult his way. You grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin which only seemed to inspire a rougher treatment. He didn’t bother to rub your clit, made no attempt to hold off his own orgasm and let you catch up. Left it up to you to get there or not. The familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach was only beginning to build when he grunted in your ear, hips stuttering. He left you feeling empty and unsatisfied, tucking himself away as you sat up and stared. There was a moment of quiet, both of you breathing heavily, watching the other. “That’s exactly why I cancelled,” you said softly. You could feel your chest tightening, eyes prickling, but you were determined not to break down in front of Roger. His shoulders slumped as he looked at you, absentmindedly raking his fingers through his hair, “Y/N, I’m, fuck, that wasn’t-“ “Get out,” Your voice was steady. “That’s not how I wanted it to go. I didn’t mea-" “Just get the fuck out of here Roger.” He gave you a final apologetic look before flinging himself out of the door and disappearing around the corner. You held yourself together just long enough for him to leave and then you sunk to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, tears falling onto them and rolling down your legs as your body shook with sobs. You hoped he could hear, door still standing open. You hoped the whole fucking street could hear.

Over the next few days the fight was all you could think about. He, thankfully, hadn’t left any bruises or marks on your throat, but there was a dull pain where he’d thrust into you so roughly, like he’d bruised your insides. A constant reminder of what happened, not that you needed one. You heard Roger’s taunts almost in a loop, each word drilling into your skull. A cunt. Easy. Pathetic. Every time you closed your eyes you saw him, glaring at you, spitting out how little he thought of you. But the hurt settled into a bitter vindication. So much for Freddie’s faith in Roger, you’d been right after all. Maybe you didn’t go about it the cleanest way but you’d done the right thing. You saw hide nor hair of Roger, not even so much as a glimpse of him on campus, though Freddie and Brian both tried to trap you. From what you could gather, they knew you and Roger had fought but knew nothing of the specifics. Every time you passed them they tried to stop you, but you ignored them, walked away as they yelled after you that Roger was sorry. “He’s really fucking torn up about whatever he said to you,” Brian said softly, catching your arm as you walked home, “I keep catching him mumbling to himself about it. He swears he didn’t mean it, whatever he said.” “Sounded like he meant it,” you wrenched your arm free and doubled your pace until you reached the safety of your living room. Eventually they stopped, giving up on trying to convince you, and you thought it was done.

Until the day you got home from an evening class to find Roger sitting cross legged in front of your door. You stopped in your tracks, “What are you doing here?” Roger jumped to his feet, dusting his hands off on the back of his jeans, “I Just want to talk,” he held up his hands like someone in a movie, trying to prove they didn’t have any weapons. “I don’t want to talk.” The people in the movies usually had a knife or something hidden up their sleeve. “Please, Y/N? I’m really sorry about what happened last time. I understand if you never want to see me again and if that’s the case then I’ll leave you alone after today. But I’d like to have a better goodbye than that.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you considered him. Part of you wanted to tell him where to stick his apology. But he did look genuinely upset and sorry and you felt guilty, knowing the part you’d played, “Fine. Can you move so I can open my bloody door?” “Actually,” he glanced next door, “I was hoping we could go for a drive. The other three are home and I don’t want them to overhear.” “Worried they’ll take my side?” “No. It’s just none of their business. So, do you mind?” On one hand, a bit of privacy would probably be good and being elsewhere might stop another scene from erupting. On the other, though, it was harder to tell Roger to fuck off if he was your ride home. “We wouldn’t go far, just away from here.” He looked over at his place again. “Yeah, okay,” You said quietly. Roger gave you a small smile, and held his hand out in an after you gesture, letting you lead the way to his van.

The drive was almost silent. Music had started playing as the engine came to life but Roger turned it off before you could hear more than a few notes of the melancholy tune. “Not your usual sound,” you said, awkwardly trying to make small talk. “Spose not.” You didn’t know what to say. Neither, it seemed, did Roger. Luckily, he didn’t go much further than a few blocks, pulling into the carpark of the local park. Usually the place would be crawling with children, screaming at each other and their parents. But now that the sun had set it was virtually deserted. A few people taking their dogs for late walks passed by as he backed the van into a spot. “Let’s sit in the back, more space,” Roger said climbing through and opening the back doors. “No instruments tonight?” “Nah, not tonight.” Another small smile as he helped you through. You settled in the doorway, legs pulled in close to your body, taking up as little space as you could manage. Roger sat opposite, chewing on his lip as he turned his head to stare out over the dark park. “I am very sorry about what I said the other day,” he looked at you and then back towards the pond, “I had an idea of what I wanted to happen except it didn’t go that way. I got pissed off and just wanted to hurt you.” “Mission accomplished.” “I know. Haven’t stopped thinking about it since. The second I left and h-heard you crying, I wanted to turn the clock back and undo it all. It was so cruel. Everything I said, did, was just needlessly cruel and I cannot apologise enough. I didn’t mean any of it. “I know you didn’t mean it. Don’t get me wrong, it sucked but I pushed you on purpose,” You let your eyes wander over Roger’s face, watching his reaction, “I wanted to hear you say something like that. And then I instigated the sex because doing it confirmed what you’d said. It was just a way to prove I was right to not go out with you. Make myself feel better about being so horrid to you.” He sighed, bring a hand up to rub the back of his neck “Like I said, not how I wanted it to go.” You both stopped, waiting for the other to say something, though when it became clear Roger wasn’t going to continue, you stepped up. “Guess I was looking for a fight. Freddie caught me off guard earlier, standing up for you, so I was already pissed off. I would have had a crack at just about anyone who came past but seeing you just made it worse,” you let yourself relax a bit, one leg slipping down to dangle out of the van, “We can talk now though. Promise I won’t bite your head off.” “I just want to understand why you changed your mind. That’s all. Not to try and convince you to change it back or anything, I just want to know if something I did upset you or…” “It wasn’t anything you did, Rog.” He nodded, looking a little relieved, “Can I ask what it was then?” “Yeah, umm” you sighed, trying to find the right words, “When you asked me out and I said yes, I was still on this high from the whole night. Hanging out with you and your mates was fun and fucking you in the pub was fun. And then you kissed me, which I wasn’t expecting. You’d never kissed me before. So going out with you seemed like a good idea. But then as soon as I was alone again, I freaked out about it. Freddie was right. He called me out for being scared and he was right.” “Scared of what?” “Everything? I don’t know. Scared you’d only asked me cos you’d been drinking or so I’d keep sleeping with you. Scared of getting hurt when you realised you didn’t really like me. Scared that one date would lead to two would lead to a serious fucking relationship. I panicked and decided it was easier to cut everything off thank risk anything. I handled this whole thing appallingly didn’t I?” “Yeah, little bit.” “Sorry.” You both fell into silence again. Roger’s brow was furrowed as he looked at his own fingers. You stared out at the pond, the stars reflected in the water blurring the longer you went without blinking.

It started to rain softly, the drops tapping against the roof of the van. You barely noticed the drops splashing onto your ankle or the chill wind that accompanied the shower, too caught up in your own head, trying to work out how to fix the situation you’d tangled yourself and Roger in. “Shit, you’re shivering,” Roger said, breaking through the mess of thoughts swirling round your head, “I think I have a blanket back here somewhere.” You watched, rubbing your arms to try and fend off the cold you’d only just noticed. “Here,” Roger said at last, throwing a fuzzy blanket over your shoulders, “Wrap yourself up in that,” “Aren’t you cold too?” you glanced at the t-shirt he wore. “Nah, I’ll be right,” “We could share,” “I don’t want to overstep,” “You wouldn’t be. Plus the extra body heat might help me warm up faster,” “Are you sure you’re okay with it?” “Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” Roger scooted closer, pausing before he came closer again, testing the waters. When he reached you he pulled the blanket around his own shoulders, one arm falling behind you so he was pressed in close. “Definitely warmer,” you said, leaning your head against his chest, ready to spring back up if he said anything. It felt nice to be so close to him again, without the anger of the last time. “I did mean it, when I asked you out. It was a genuine request not some ploy to keep sleeping with you or whatever. Just so we’re clear.” You nodded, leaning into him. Without thinking you began tracing your fingers over his wrist, following some marks you couldn’t see properly. There was a pang of guilt as you realised your nails had left them there. “It doesn’t hurt,” he said softly, reading your mind, “probably deserved it. Did I hurt you?” “A bit yeah." He shifted your hair, trying to see any signs of how he’d squeezed your throat. “Not there.” “Oh, Y/N,” he held you tighter, wrapping his second arm around you, pulling you against him, “I’m so sorry,” “It’s okay Rog. Only hurt for a couple of days. And if anyone should apologise more it’s me. I was a cunt and you didn’t deserve how I treated you.” “It’s okay. I get why. But why don’t we make an agreement to stop going in circles apologising to each other and put it behind us, if we can.” “Go back to before?” You asked slowly, sitting up to look at Roger, trying to get a feel for what he was hoping for, “Hooking up casually?” “If that’s what you want, I can do casual. We don’t have to though; I’d be happy to just be friends, or whatever. As long as we’re not fighting anymore.” “Friends would be good. But maybe you should try asking me out again? If you’re still interested?” “Really? I don’t want you to feel obligated to say yes out of guilt or because you want to make it up to me.” “Ask me,” This time when he spoke there was no hesitation, “Do you want to go out with me sometime?” “I’d really like that.” Roger tilted your head towards him. He paused, looking into your eyes. And then, when he was satisfied with whatever he saw there, he kissed you. Softly, one arm around your waist, the other resting on your cheek.

#my writing #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #I really love writing this series #but im highkey worried this chapter is too out of place #or that it'll feel like it doesn't make sense or came out of nowhere #I hope it doesn't #anyway theres one more chapter to come #and i know exactly what's going to happen #and how it's going to end #and im very much looking forward to writing it #and now to press post #.....#here we go! posting!#just gotta move the mouse over to post and click on it #stop stalling and post it #if it flops i'll delete and rewrite it

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