roger taylor imagines

please come home

all sorts of things were flying across the living room, vases, pillows, picture frames of you and roger, random ornaments that were once placed around and they were all being thrown at roger.

you weren't feeling in the best of moods and it's been like that for a couple of days now.

why are things getting catapulted at roger may you ask? what's he done that's so terrible? well he came home from the studio half an hour ago, three hours later than usual but it had been like that all week and you were fed up of waiting for your love to find that he'd be late for whatever reason.

you never asked him why he was late that week. you just greeted him with a smile and went off in a mood.

"woah woah woah, y/n!" roger shouted over your shouting, holding his hands out to protect himself from what you were throwing. "what's been wrong with you this week?"

"are you really asking that question, roger?" you scoffed, shouting.

"is it because i've been late home from the studio all week?" he asks. you push your tongue behind your bottom lip and shake your head.

"and he finally realises!" you fling your arms in the air and turn your back on him.

"why do you think i've been late?" he asks quietly. looking up, you take a deep breath in.

"have you been cheating?" you ask, not turning around.

"no! no of course i haven't!" roger exclaims, running to you and holding your arms.

you couldn't help it. you grabbed another pillow and started hitting him with it.

"and how am i supposed to know that hm!?" you asked with every hit. "because before you met me, i knew that you slept with lots of girls! don't fucking lie to me!"

"but i already told you, i'm not like that anymore!" roger exclaims to you, holding his arm up to again protect himself from your hits.

"i don't know that!" you shouted.

"well now you do! because i've told you so many fucking times love-"

"no, no!" you pointed your finger at him. "don't call me that!" you saw the hurt on rogers face when you said that. he always called you 'love' no matter what and you loved it. not this time though.

"get out" you whisper without eye contact.

"what?" roger whispers also, his eyes widening.

"you heard me roger" you gritted your teeth.

he was also hurt that you weren't calling him by his nickname, rog. you never called him by his full name, only when the boys were arguing and you wanted rogers attention to shut him up. it was either a pet name or rog.

he sadly walked to the front door and after turning back, he said,

"just know that i still love you and i haven't done anything you think. i would never" and with that he turned the doorknob and left without saying another word.

you listened to the growl of rogers car as he started it and you listened as it quite quickly became a faint sound.

you broke down into tears and fell to the ground, putting your hands to your face as you cried.

you sat there for at least a good ten minutes until your stomach hurt which made you stop crying. you forced yourself up and decided to clean your mess up.

you did it slowly, but you managed to clean everything. the glass, the broken photo frames, the broken ornaments..

you gathered all of the pictures of you two that you had thrown at the love of your life and sat crying again, looking at them all.