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freddiesaysalright · 4 years

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Just Like a Woman - Part 4

A Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary: You and Roger were once in love when you were young. Only, he went on to be a rock star, and you went on to be a lawyer. Now, quite against your will, you’re representing him in his divorce.

Word Count: 3.7k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @moon-stars-soul, @im-an-adult-ish, @ixchel-9275, @jennyggggrrr, @zyanmaik, @mypassionfortrash, @a19103, @madeinheavxn, @beepbeephardy, @lizawritesthings, @qweenly, @blisshemmings, @seasidecrowbar, @internationalkpoplova, @ellystone, @takemetoneverland420, @coffeexcigarette, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @thatpunkmaximoff, @angelkissys, @rocknroll-stolemyass, @simonedk, @anotheronebitesrogertaylor, @peterquillzblog, @mrfahrenhcit, @joseph-mozzerella, @theprettyandthereckless, @flick-ofthe-wrist, @johndeaconshands, @rogerandhiscar, @queenmaracasandlove, @sunflower-ben, @cubetriangle, @amy-brooklyn99, @scorpiogemini If you’d like to be added, let me know! Also, I’m sorry the tags aren’t working for everyone? Tumblr is dumb and idk how to fix it :(

A/N: Okay, time for the full story of Y/N and Rog :) Also. I realize I posted the previous chapter yesterday, but I was in a MOOD today so I hope y’all enjoy!

Warning(s): mentions of abuse

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 4 here we go!!!

“So, tell me about Roger Taylor,” said Dr. Tracy.

You scowled at her. “Why, what does he have to do with anything?”

“From what Mark tells me, it has a great deal to do with your relationship,” she said. “I want the whole story.”

It was only your second therapy session, and you were already annoyed. It mostly felt like a way for Mark to spill his feelings about you to someone other than you, and have that person validate him to your face so you couldn’t argue.

You were also annoyed because you felt like the more people brought Roger up, the harder it would be to move on. It had been two weeks since you had confronted him outside the bar, and even though you showed a cool exterior during your meetings with him, your heart was still breaking over what you had learned.

“Y/N?” said Dr. Tracy. “Can you begin please?”

“Fine,” you sighed. “I met Roger when we were six. His father was an abusive and terrifying man, and before my family lived in the house next door, Roger would go to the shed and hide in there. After my family and I moved in, I found him in there on a rainy evening looking for a tool my father needed...”

The skinny blonde boy was sopping wet and quaking behind a large bag of fertilizer. He glared fiercely at you. It was almost frightening, especially with the blood dribbling from his lip. But, his own fear - so evident in those wide eyes - eased your own.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

A large drop of water leaked from the roof and onto his face. He shook his head.

“D’you need some help?” you wondered. “You’re bleeding. My mum’s a nurse so she’s got plenty of bandages.”

“P-please,” he shivered.

“Well, come on, then,” you said, offering your hand.

He took it. It was frigid compared to your warm one, but you felt his need in his grip. Forgoing the errand for your father, you led the boy inside. You came into the kitchen, where your mother was making dinner and your father was reading quietly. They both looked up and saw you with the strange, helpless boy and they looked at each other.

“Who’s this, Y/N?” your father asked.

You faced the boy. “Oh! I forgot to ask your name!”

“It’s Roger,” he said with a sniffle.

Your mother disappeared into the sitting room and returned with a blanket, wrapping it tightly around Roger’s shoulders. He shot her a grateful glance but then looked resolutely at the floor.

“How’d you find Roger, dear?” you mother wondered.

“He was in the shed,” you said simply. “He’s hurt.”

Your mother knelt down in front of him. She took his chin between her thumb and forefinger and lifted his face to inspect it. She saw his split lip. In the light, she also saw the bruise forming along his cheekbone.

“Have you been fighting, Roger?” she asked gently.

“No, ma’am,” he told her. “My dad got angry at me because I didn’t pick up a toy, so he…”

His lower lip trembled as his eyes filled up with tears.

“Oh, you poor darling,” your mother cooed. “Stay right here, love, we’ll fix you up.”

She bustled upstairs to retrieve her things. Roger sniffled. Your father looked at him.

“Come here, Roger,” he said.

For the first time, Roger released your hand. He stepped warily over to your father. Your dad lifted the boy up and placed him in his lap, caring nothing about the wet clothes dampening his work pants.

“There’s a good lad,” your father said gently, rubbing Roger’s cold arms. “Are you bad hurt?”

Roger shook his head. “S’just my lip, sir. I’m alright.”

“That’s not what I mean,” you father said. “Bad hurt isn’t something you feel on your skin. It’s something you feel in here.”

He pointed to Roger’s chest. His heart.

“Are you bad hurt, Roger?”

Tears spilling out of his eyes, Roger nodded.

“You father scares you?” your dad continued.

Roger nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

Your father nodded. “You may call me Felix, if you like.”

Just then, your mother re-entered the room, fresh clothes and first aid kit in hand.

“And that lovely lady is my wife, Vivian,” he went on. “And of course you’ve met my daughter, Y/N.” He paused thoughtfully. “Roger, I don’t know how you found your way to our shed, but you’re welcome to come to the front door.”

“Can’t,” Roger said. “I live next door, he’ll see where I went. If I go through the back fence, he doesn’t follow me.”

“Come to the back door, then,” your father said. “I promise I’ll never lock it.”

“Really?” Roger returned, eyes wide with wonder which had replaced his fear.

“Really,” you father assured him. “So the next time something like this happens, or you’re feeling bad hurt, you can come here. We’ll do what we can to make it better for you.”

Gently, your father reached up and wiped the tears from Roger’s cheeks.

“There we go, there’s a handsome chap,” he said. “Ready to let Viv clean you up?”

You mother smiled warmly at Roger. He nodded. Your father eased him off his lap and then Roger took your mother’s hand and followed her into the bathroom so he could change and she could treat him. You looked at your dad.

“Is there anything we can do, Daddy?” you asked. “To make his daddy be nicer to him?”

“I’m afraid there isn’t much that would be effective, sweetheart,” he replied. “But what we can do is show him that there are good and kind people in this world. And we can remind him that he is deserving of kindness. That will have to be enough for now.”

He stood up, patted your head, and went into the sitting room to the piano. Your dad was a banker, but he was also an incredibly talented musician. He always said he played piano and did a little banking on the side as a joke.

Roger emerged, looking much happier. He drew close to your father and looked at the shiny white keys.

“Do you play?” your father asked.

Roger shook his head.

“Would you like to learn?”

Roger nodded and grinned.

“Well, climb on the bench, I’ll teach you some,” your father said.

Roger hastily obeyed and clamored onto the bench as your father took a seat beside him. Your mother sat on the couch and you went and crawled into her lap. The two of you watched as your father showed Roger the basics. He learned quickly. Music came easily to Roger, and you thought then that he would one day amount to something great.

Your father then let you take his place and you taught Roger a few little diddies you knew. Felix and his wife started back toward the kitchen so they could finish dinner and fix a plate for Roger as well.

“What can we do, Felix?” Vivian asked. “Can’t we call someone?”

“We can try, but I’m afraid that will only come back to hurt Roger,” Felix replied. “Let’s wait for now. If things get drastic, we’ll step in. Until then, all we can do is show him as much love as possible.”

She sighed. “Alright, then. Oh, the poor, poor dear.”

They departed to the kitchen. You and Roger stopped playing the piano and looked at each other. Unbeknownst to your parents, you had both heard what they said.

“Roger,” you said. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” he wondered.

“I’m sorry is what people say to someone when they’re upset,” you said. “So, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “For the sorry.”

“Wanna learn a real song?” you asked. “Then every time you come over, we can practice it.”

He brightened at that and nodded. Thus began your journey together.

“I see,” Dr. Tracy said as you wrapped up. “And at what point did you two progress from childhood friends to sweethearts?”

“We were fifteen,” you said. “Roger was starting to sort of realize his appeal to girls and that boys were also interested in me. It actually started from a fight because he had asked another girl to a party…”

“I’m not mad!” you insisted, storming through your front door. “You are perfectly welcome to ask whomever you like!”

“Well, something’s wrong because you’ve ignored me all day!” he returned.

“What’s going on out here?” your mother wondered, bursting into the living room.

“Y/N’s upset with me,” Roger blurted out.

“I am not!” you cried, stamping your foot. “Mother, tell him I’m not upset!”

“I think I’d be hard pressed to convince him of it if you can’t,” she teased, nodding at your posture and deep frown. “Now, what’s this all about?”

“I asked Pam Davis to Mary Key’s party, and now Y/N isn’t speaking to me,” he explained.

“Y/N, is that true?” she asked.

You huffed. “I was just under the impression he and I would...never mind, I was clearly mistaken.”

Your face was bright pink and you looked resolutely at the carpet, toeing it with your shoe. Your mother looked knowingly between you and Roger, who looked equally embarrassed.

“Well, I don’t think I can settle this one,” she said. “You two will just have to work it out on your own.”

You turned on your heel and swept into the kitchen. Roger looked at your mother.

“Better go and fix it, Rog,” she said.

“On it,” he sighed, and followed you.

You yanked the fridge open and reached for a Coke. You tugged the cap off and took a swig, letting it cool you down.

“Y/N, are you upset because you don’t have a date?” Roger asked. “Because I can get you a date. There’s plenty of blokes who’d be glad to take you.”

“I don’t want just any bloke!” you cried, exasperated. “Can’t you see?!”

“Oh, there’s someone you like?” he wondered, perking up. “Tell me!”

“God, you’re such an idiot!”

“Why am I an idiot?!”

“Because you are!”

“Tell me the reason!”

“I like you, you idiot!” you shouted.

You stared at each other, out of breath and both shocked at the words that had just come out of your mouth. You inhaled deeply, collecting yourself.

“I like you, Roger,” you said calmly. “And I don’t know how you don’t know it.”

“Well, Y/N, we…” he trailed off. “We’ve always been best friends. How was I supposed to know things had changed?”

“I dunno,” you said. “I’m just as new to this as you are. But when you asked Pam to be your date, I was hurt. Bad hurt.”

“Y/N, I had no idea,” he said gently. “I’m sorry. If I had known, I...well, I wouldn’t have asked Pam.”

“Y - you wouldn’t?” you questioned.

He shook his head. “No. The truth is, I was afraid to change things between us because I don’t think I could stand to lose you. But, I like you too.”

“Really?!” you gasped.

“Really,” he said.

He stepped closer to you. You observed suddenly that he was much taller than you remembered. You looked up into his eyes. His hand moved to caress your cheek. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed.

“Yeah,” you sighed back.

He pressed his lips tenderly against yours. It was a little unsteady and light, giving you the opportunity to stop him. You didn’t. You just kept right on kissing him. Your lips moved with his as gracefully as dancers moved through a waltz. Neither of you really knew what you were doing, but you didn’t care. It was the way you showed what you were both feeling.

“Y/N,” said Roger, pulling away for air. “Come with me to Mary’s party. As my girlfriend.”

“O-okay,” you agreed, a smile blooming across your face.

Not only did you just have your first kiss, but you got your first boyfriend. And it was someone you cared for more than anyone else in the world.

“Now, how long was it before the two of you made love?” Dr. Tracy asked.

“Oh, I’m not telling you that!” you returned indignantly. “That’s private!”

“How long?” she insisted.

“Why is that important?” you demanded.

“Your first experience with intimacy can be a contributing factor in issues in new relationships,” she said. “When did you do it and what was it like?”

You briefly imagined yourself opening your mouth and breathing fire onto this woman until she burned to a crisp. You cleared your throat.

“We were seventeen, and it was wonderful,” you said. “Of course it was awkward and unsure since neither of us knew what we were doing, but we eventually got the hang of it and we were happy.”

“So the sex was good?” she asked.

“It was great,” you said.

“How is the sex with Mark?” she went on.

“Oh, come on!” you cried. “He’s right here!”

“Ah, so not good,” she observed.

“That’s not what I said!” you protested.

“Well, if it was good, you would have just said so,” she said. “And your resistance to talking about it in front of him implies that your opinion would insult him. So, I must assume it’s not good sex.”

“Let’s move on,” Mark interjected. “We can have that conversation at another time.”

“Alright,” Dr. Tracy agreed. “Y/N, tell me how things with Roger ended.”

You sighed. “Well, that was tough. I was still in uni. He had already dropped out and was becoming successful with the band…”

Your dingy little London flat reeked with the food you just burned. How your mother managed to make perfect meals, work, and raise a child was beyond you. Your only responsibilities were studying and work, so why was it so difficult to cook? With an aggravated groan, you tossed it in the bin and started debating what you wanted to get for take out. That was when Roger came in.

“Hello, darling!” you greeted warmly. “How’s recording going?”

“Fine,” he said shortly.

You looked him over. He seemed agitated and nervous.

“You alright, Rog?” you asked.

“I’m fine,” he replied. He scrunched up his nose. “What did you burn this time?”

“Chicken,” you chuckled. “I’m gonna go for some Chinese. Wanna come?”

“Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you,” he said.

His tone made your heart skip a beat. You had a feeling that Roger might be about to propose. You had discussed marriage before, but you both agreed now wasn’t the time. But you had also told him you were not opposed to a long engagement.

“What is it?” you wondered.

He sighed heavily and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“Do you ever feel like you’re missing out?” he wondered. “On other people?”

“How do you mean?” you questioned, brow furrowing as the panic set in.

“Well, it’s just that our whole lives, we’ve only ever been with each other,” he said. “Don’t you ever wonder what it’d be like to...I dunno, kiss someone else?”

“No,” you said. “I love you, Roger.”

“I love you too, Y/N, but I feel like there’s more out there,” he said. “Now that I’ve gone on tour and seen other places I feel like there’s so much to be explored. And...I want to explore it. Don’t you?”

“No,” you repeated, darkly. “I love you, Roger.”

He sighed again. “I love you, Y/N.”

“What are you getting at, then?” you demanded.

“As much as I love you, I don’t want to be tied down anymore,” he said. “I know we’ve discussed getting married, so I’m sorry if this comes as a shock to you, but I’ve been thinking it for a while. The band’s getting bigger, and it’s only going to progress. And I’m not ready to settle down with just one person.”

“So...you want to break up?”

The question hung between you. You weren’t sure how you even managed to ask it with a lump in your throat the size of an ostrich egg. Your heart was cracking inside your chest.

“Yes,” he said.

With that one word, you felt your heart shatter completely. Your whole world was collapsing on top of you. The assurance you had always placed in Roger was an illusion.

“Well,” you choked out. “At least you’re telling me now.”

“That’s all you have to say?” he questioned.

You met his eyes and saw they were just as teary as yours.

“What else can I say?” you returned. “You’ve made up your mind, haven’t you?”

“I have,” he said.

“Well, what do you want me to do?” you questioned. “Beg for you to stay?”

“You don’t want to fight for it?”

“Why should I? If I’m not enough for you, Roger, then that’s it. I won’t guilt you or force you to be with me.”

“I feel like you’re giving up,” he said.

“I’m not the one leaving,” you reminded him.

A moment passed where neither of you said anything. It was so heavy your knees almost buckled beneath the weight of it.

Roger sniffled and quickly wiped his eyes.

“I don’t even know how to say goodbye to you,” he struggled to say.

“Maybe it’s best if you don’t say anything,” you told him. You felt a tear slide down your cheek. “That way we make it easier on both of us.”

“Y/N…”

“Go, Roger,” you ordered him.

“Y/N, please.”

“Go.”

He took one last look at you. You were scowling, tears flowing down your cheeks, eyes red and puffy. Even then, he thought you were beautiful and he began to doubt his decision. Suddenly, he realized that he would no longer have his best friend, and it made him hesitate.

“Roger,” you said, drawing in a deep breath. “I really need you to go.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, resigning himself to the damage done. “I...I am sorry, Y/N.”

“Okay,” you said shortly.

He held your gaze again. Your bottom lip began to tremble as the reality struck you. Roger was leaving you. Roger, who you had given everything too, including your heart, was going to walk out of the door and out of your life.

He broke away, crossed the room, and opened the door. You heard it squeak as he hesitated again. Then he sighed and left. The door fell closed with a soft click. That was it. No hug, no dramatic kiss, no screaming, no fight.

When the door closed, you broke down with a wail. This was not the Roger you knew. Ever since the band became successful, you had seen glimpses of his desire for more, but you’d ignored it. You thought surely he loved you more than he craved that lifestyle. And yet, he proved to you he didn’t. It seemed impossible that time moved on when your heart was breaking so badly. If there were any justice, everything would have frozen so you could properly nurse it. But all you could do was crumple into a heap and feel the pain.

“Life went on,” you said. “He became a successful drummer. I became a successful attorney, and I’m mostly happy.”

It was a lie. Just remembering the day Roger left you made you emotional.

“Mostly?” Dr. Tracy questioned.

“Well, I had hoped to be married and have children at this point, but Rog - I mean, I just never met the right person,” you said.

“Let me ask you this -” she began, but Mark cut across her.

“I think I’ve heard enough,” he said, getting angrily to his feet. “I can see now that you really aren’t over Roger Taylor and I don’t think you ever will be.”

“Mark, don’t be ridiculous,” you said. “Obviously, he was a big part of my life, but I -”

“Don’t, Y/N!” he shouted snatching away the hand you had reached for. “I can’t do this anymore!”

You stood up as well. “What? Are you serious? Just because Roger was part of my past! That’s crazy! I’ve found somebody else, and -”

“No!” he cried. “I’m a placeholder, Y/N, and I won’t stand for it!”

“You are not!” you argued.

“Okay, then answer me this,” he challenged. “Do you love me?”

“I - well, I don’t know yet!” you insisted.

“Well, I love you,” he said. “And I know that because we’ve been together long enough for anyone else in the world to know! The problem is, Y/N, that love is wasted on you as long as Roger Taylor walks this Earth!”

It was like all the air was sucked out of the room. You felt yourself harden against the hurt of his words. His face fell, regretting them.

“Love is wasted on me?”

“I didn’t mean -”

“No, I think you did, Mark,” you interrupted. “That was the cruelest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Y/N -”

“No, I think you’re right,” you said, grabbing your things from the back of your chair. “Let’s say our goodbyes. After all, I wouldn’t want you to waste anymore love on the likes of me.”

You said nothing else, but swept out of the office. Hot tears stung your eyes. You never thought Mark capable of saying something so hurtful.

As you walked, heading back to your firm, you looked at the ground, deep in thought about what had transpired. You paid little attention to your surroundings, and therefore, ran smack into a man who was emerging from a building you were passing.

The collision nearly knocked you off your feet, but the man was quick to react and steadied you. You looked up to meet the eyes of the very man that started all this.

“Roger?” you questioned. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here,” he said, pointing to the building he had just walked out of. “This is the studio.”

“Oh,” you said.

You bit your lip to keep your emotions in check. You really needed to cry right now so you were eager to get back to your office.

“Y/N?” Roger asked, noticing your eyes welling up. “Are you okay?”

Too upset to bother with your pride, you shook your head.

“No.”

“Bad hurt?” he wondered.

You nodded. You weren’t sure if it was that you’d talked about him for an hour or the sting from Mark’s statement, but suddenly you couldn’t contain the overwhelming feelings swirling around in your heart. You let out a sob and fell into Roger’s arms.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #Queen #queen imagine #queen x reader #queen x you #BoRhap #borhap imagine #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #just like a woman series

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