Classic 70s/80s rock/metal imagines

Rodger Taylor - spills in the night

Context - Rodger likes you. You've been friends, best friends for years and years, and he doesn't plan on admitting it to you anytime soon.

---- Girls Name - Sweetie Day

I WAS SNEAKING OUT to go see Roger, funny, right? I do this almost every damn night, and rodger still doesn't plan to at least try to be damn settled about it.

A couple of months prior I had a boyfriend who made me sneak out with him, he was a cool guy and all but all he really gave a fuck about was; sex, drugs, drinking and girls.

I wasn't into the whole 'sex every night' thing. Drugs, smoking, and drinking are what I'll stick with.

Obsessing over boys to, obviously.

But today wasn't any day; today was the day I'd tell rodger how I felt. It had been building like brick inside me for damn near ages.

I tried to push it away, but it never worked. It came back like a light and harder than ever these last few single months.

I've ALMOST told him once before, but I backed out last minute and smoked the sorrows away, hoping with exactly what will NOT go on today.

I was now currently stepping on a branch outside my window with rodger pestering me to hurry up.

"Ya wanna be any fuckin' louder, taylor?" I grind my teeth at him, jumping down from the decently tall branch.

"I could be yellin your name, sweetheart," he smiles, absolutely cocky about damn near everything.

He's also used that damn nickname on me since middle school and my god- I couldn't get enough.

"You ever try and I'll bloody fuckin' murder you," I peck at his chest while walking past him to the car.

He had some van, it looked cool but definitely smelt like weed- partly my fault for smoking quite close to everyday in there.

Remind him of me I guess.

"Listen, gotta stop bein a tease sometimes," rodger states as he gets into the driver's side of the van, starting it up.

"I'm not a tease, I'm a flease."

He looks at me confused, hell I was confused to by my words.

"Whats a flease?" I ask again, rethinking my choices of words to rhyme with 'tease'.

"As if I'd know," he scoffs, starting to drive off and away.

"Can I smoke?" I ask, showing the pre-made blunts in a little box I had.

He glaces at it, quickly looking back at the road, "only if I can have some," he grins, eyes steady on the road ahead.

"Ofcourse you can babe," grinning back to him I grab the lighter in the drink holder, holding it to the blunt and lighting yer up.

Forgot to mention, I call him babe here and there for a couple of years now.

I take a deep breath in, inhaling all the toxic smoke into my lungs, surely and truly; able to die off early.

I blow it in Rodgers direction, smiling while doing so.

What I didn't know at the time was rodger was almost gently craving the touch from me or to even blow smoke so close into my mouth that his lips would almost touch mine.

He did tell me that later on though.

"We going to the field?" I ask, inhaling a deep cloud of smoke into my lungs as doing so.

"I assume."

I look at him confused as I blow the smoke out, "assume.. what?"

He lightly chuckles, "yes, yes dear we are going to the field," he slightly grins.

"Thats all you had to say," I roll my eyes at him, taking a breath of almost fresh air before taking a longer breath of chemical field air.

By the time we got there I was starting to get the SLIGHT effects of the large intake of pure happiness.

Me and rodger were laying in the van, our legs dangling off the edge of the open sliding van door, letting the some out of the car as we passed it from eachother.

The peace of silence with quiet music playing in the background was so nice but to be shortly cut off by me, finally mustering up the courage to tell him.

"Hey, babe?" I say, looking up at the ceiling of the van that had 'rodger & y/n, 1970', written on it, the year he got into the band 'queen'.

"Yeah sweetheart?" He asks, also looking up at the ceiling.

"I think I like you, like, like you, like you," I say, not daring to look at him.

"Oh thank the heavens," he let's out a breath he'd been holding, "I have been absolutely terrified to make the first move," he states, "so I hoped you do it to help lead me along the way."

I light laugh at his words, "really?" I ask, glancing over to him, seeing the perfect side profile of him, how his blonde hair false so perfectly around him.

"Wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it," he shows the cockily smile again, looking towards me.

The eye contact felt like ages till we left apart, his eyes burning into my scull while I panic inside, the happiness taking over me to clam me down.

Smoking while admitting your feelings works great.

His eyes go from my eyes to my lips, darting back and forth between them.

I take it as a signal, grabbing his face and pulling him in, my hands on ethier side of his face.

He kisses back almost instantly, his hands on my lower back, pulling me ontop of him.

The kiss was full of love, the pure physical and emotional happiness out and in the air between us.

I pull apart, needing a breath from the lengthy kiss that was just happening.

"You do not know how long I've wanted to do that," he smiles, almost whispering to me.

I take the blunt from his hand before talking, "oh I should've done it way before."

I inhale the smoke once again but this time when I blow it out I blow it into Rodgers mouth, him getting the chemicals with him now.

"What now, mh?" He asks, his hands staying on my lower back.

"Smoke and flock?" I ask, my words Making zero sense, "smoke and talk, I mean."

He lightly laughs, "That'd be nice," he smiles, kissing my cheek.

Let's just say I came home through my window that night with the ever lastings of the happiness, through the object and emotion, and most importantly; a boyfriend.

What a damn night.

----
I think I write better when I'm high, I always wanna write while high and do a petter job then when I'm not high.
(Saying this while sober)