roger taylor imagines

who's this blonde bitch? part two

"so this is your studio for however long you guys are staying for" i say, walking backwards, facing the boys with my arms out to the side showing them the place.

"this is a nice little area." roger says, "it's cosy."
"cosy for what roger?" john smirks.
"oh i don't know.." he looks at me, smirking, "anything."
"john don't encourage him!" brian says, giving john a glare.

"children please!" freddie says, "it's lovely y/n, thank you." he says as he turns to face me.
"that's quite alright, freddie." i smile.

i see that john and brian have a guitar case each, most likely having their own instruments in.
"would you like to set your guitars in here boys?" i ask them. they nod and do so.

we all soon head back to the house when the boys have set what they need in the studio.
"we're back" i announce to my mum, who looks like she was waiting for us to finish so she can show the boys around the house and their rooms.
"oh good!" she says, "come with me boys, i need to show you how some things work around here and then your rooms." i watch them all leave and decide to make myself a cup of tea.

rogers pov
i've hardly known this girl for half an hour, but i feel something. it's not your casual one night stand. she's different. good different though, she's so pretty she stands out to me in the room. her eyes sparkle in the sun and her long hair is so beautiful.

i get showed to my room and i go in and set my stuff down, looking around the room. i think to myself, should i ask
y/n if she wants to go out for a drink or is it too soon? i mean, it's only a drink, right? i think i might ask her. i'll make it look casual.

y/n pov
i really wanted to ask roger if he wants to go out for a drink or something tonight, but i don't want him to think that i'm desperate. should i? i don't know. fuck it, i'll ask him.

i see the boys coming back downstairs, roger with drumsticks in his hand. "we're going to make a start on this album if you want to come along and watch y/n" freddie tells me.
"oh i don't want to be a distraction." i say.
"nonsense!" he says, "we would love an audience"
"okay then." i say and i set my mug down which once had tea in it and followed the boys to the studio.

later

freddie, john and brian were sitting doing their own thing and roger was sitting at him drum kit, writing something down which i presumed was lyrics. i walk into the booth where all of the instruments were and walk over to roger.

"what you writing?" i ask.
"a song, but i don't think the boys will like it." he says.
"can i hear?"
"uh, sure okay" he starts playing the intro and soon starts singing.

"the machine of a dream, such a clean machine. with the pistons a pumpin' and the hubcaps all gleam. when i'm holding your wheel, all i hear is your gear, with my hand on your grease gun, mmm it's like a disease son. i'm in love with my car, gotta feel for my automobile. get a grip on my boy racer roll bar, such a thrill when your radials squeal."

he sings the rest of the song, totally concentrated on what he is doing. he looked so cute when he was concentrating. when he finishes i give him a little applause.
"roger that's really good!" i tell him. "i think they'll love it!"
"thanks, y/n" he smiles.

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"no! absolutely not!" freddie exclaims. roger showed freddie, john and brian his song and it didn't go down too well.

"why the fuck not!?" roger argued back. i didn't like it when people were arguing. it seemed to stress me out even though i wasn't in the situation.

"roger! you've wrote a love song about your bloody car! and 'with my hand on your grease gun' what the fuck!?" roger glares at freddie for a while and then storms away. he locks himself in the nearest cupboard there is.

"oh for fuck sake roger, you're being childish" brian says.
"put i'm in love with my car on the b side of bohemian rhapsody and then i'll come out" his muffled voice says.
"no!" freddie says.
"then i'm staying in here. i'll stay in here until i fucking well die if you won't put it on."

i sigh and walk over to the cupboard. "rog? please come out. maybe they just need time to think about it."
"we've had time to think about it and we've said no!" freddie says. i walk over to the boys, "i've actually heard him play this song and it's really good, i love it." i tell them all. "please put it on the b side, freddie"

"it's getting hard to breathe in here" rogers muffled voice says again.
"the fucking come out!" john says.
"no, not until you put my song-"
"on the b side, yes yes, we've all heard it." brian says.
"pleaseeee" i plead. freddie sighs in defeat and says, "ugh, fine, but if it ruins the album it's gonna be all his fault."

"did you hear that? you can come out now, freddie said yes!" i tell roger. he slowly opens the door and climbs out.
"rog, eh? is that like your new nickname for me or something?" he smirks. this makes me blush and i turn away to hide it.
"i mean, if you want it to be." i say.
"i love it" he smiles now.
"i uh, actually wanted to ask you something." i start. here we go.

"woah woah woah!" freddie rushes over to us, standing in the middle. "don't you think it's a bit early to be asking him to be your boyfriend? i mean, you've known him for like an hour."
"what!?"
"what!?" roger and i both say simultaneously.
"not what you were going to ask?" freddie asks me.
"no!" i exclaim.
"alright alright calm down my dear." he says, patting my shoulder and walking away.

"anyway, what i was going to ask was if you wanted to go out tonight for some drinks at the pub? i know the perfect one and my friend works there. it's like half an hour away but we can keep ourselves occupied can't we?" i soon notice that i was babbling on and rogers face also told me this.
"sorry, heh" i says awkwardly.
"believe it or not, i was actually going to ask you the same thing." roger says.
"really?" i say. "i'm a mind reader." i laugh, making roger laugh a little too.

"so is that a yes then?" i ask.
"definitely. i would tell you that i would drive, but one, i don't have a car and two, i don't know where it is." he says. i laugh a little, "i'll drive, don't worry."
"so does eight sound good?" he asks.
"eight it is."
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words: 1201

this hasn't been checked over and it's 3am right now, so sorry for any grammar mistakes.