Salt, Tequila, Lime
Summary: Roger Taylor x fem!reader. Roger rescues you from a night of tequila and trying to forget.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: cussing, fluff, angst
A/N: This is my entry for @royally-rogers 550 follower celebration! This is my first full Roger fic and it was a lot of fun to write. Apparently, I see Rog as very protective lol. Any feedback including likes, replies, reblogs and asks are greatly appreciated! Especially replies, messages, and asks are super helpful for my writing ‘cause I get to hear what you think!
Masterlist
7. “So pick me, choose me, love me.” (had to pick this bc I love Greys lol)
18. “Does it even make a difference? When I’m sober, I feel pain.”
🌲🌲🌲
The sting of the alcohol burned through your throat and nose as you gulped down another shot. You coughed but quickly chased it down with a wedge of lime that helped mitigate the worst of it, the taste of salt still clinging to your lips. Tequila wasn’t your go-to drink on a regular night, but for getting fucked up, it worked like a charm.
“Woo, go girl, you took that like a pro!” Kara, one of the other drunk girls you had met since the start of your binge, cheered you on.
“Yeah, I bet you don’t even remember whoever it was that fucked you over,” Leslie, another drunk girl you met in the bathroom said, hugging you from behind and shouting in your ear. If you weren’t so drunk you would’ve been worried about your hearing.
You giggled along with her and replied, “Almost, almost. Another round should… fix that though.”
“Bartender, three more shots of lime and slices of tequila!” Kara exclaimed, not catching her mistake that sent you and Leslie into hysterics, but the bartender seemed to get the gist and started pouring the shots.
_____
Roger was just walking into the bar when he heard some girl shout something unintelligible and then a burst of loud laughter. He shared an amused look with Freddie, Deaky, and Brian behind him before walking further into the bar. Turning back around, he was just in time to see you messily lick the salt, slam the shot, and jam the lime wedge in your mouth.
In confusion and shock, Roger yelled out, “Y/N?!”
Hearing your name from a voice you recognized caught your attention fast, and you whipped your head around to the door and the lime wedge fell from your mouth onto the floor.
“Graceful,” Freddie said, causing Brian and Deaky to laugh. The three of them walked over to find a booth, leaving Roger to deal with you.
“Roger!” you called out to him. Hopping off the stool, you ran over to him, only tripping over your feet and bumping into other people a couple of times. You threw yourself onto him into a big hug and his hands came to your sides to keep you steady. Pulling back, you tugged on a piece of his blonde hair and booped his nose, laughing, “Hi, Rogie.”
Roger batted your hand away gently but smiled just a little before looking at you with worry. “Love, what are you doing here? Why are you so… drunk?”
“Ohhhh, I’m not that drunk…” you slurred, trying to minimize your inebriation.
“Yeah, and if I let go of your elbows, would you be able to stand up on your own?” he asked sarcastically.
“Remains to be seen, but maybe let’s not test that theory,” you conceded, and you let him walk you back over to your stool. Leslie and Kara watched him help you onto your stool, and whispered to each other excitedly.
“This isn’t the guy you were trying to forget, right?” Leslie asked, giving Roger a not-at-all subtle once-over.
“‘Cause he seems way too pretty for that to ever be possible,” Kara added on, biting her lip and looking at him seductively.
“No, no, Roger here is much too good of a person to ever do what that rat did,” you explained, patting his arm. The two girls smiled in relief and angled themselves more towards him. However, Roger had the opposite idea and spun your stool so you faced him head-on.
“Wait, what did who do? Did that boyfriend of yours fuck up? Is that why you’re like this right now, why you’re alone?” he questioned, searching your face for answers.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you mumbled as you tried to shrug off the question.
“I wanna know exactly what he did, why you feel like you have to get this drunk. Tell me, please,” Roger urged you.
“Does it even make a difference? When I’m sober, I feel pain,” you said quietly, slumping down in your seat.
“Oh, love, I’m so sorry, whatever happened,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug, and you let him. As soon as you were wrapped up in his embrace, you started to lose your grip on your emotions, and tears started forming in your eyes. Before you knew it, you were openly sobbing into Roger’s chest, and if you weren’t so drunk and sad, you would’ve felt bad for ruining his shirt.
“Come on, come on, let’s get you home, love,” Roger said softly to you, helping you stand and grab your things. He turned to Leslie and Kara and told them, “I’ve got her, but you two shouldn’t drive, yeah? I’ve got a couple friends over in that booth if you need a ride.”
Their eyes followed over to where the others were sitting and lit up in excitement. Roger waved to Fred to let him know he was leaving as Brian and Deaky warily watched the two very wasted girls running over to them.
As Roger led you out to his car, you asked, “Should you really have sent Leslie and Kara to Bri and Deaky? … think they’re too far gone to be anything but a burden on the boys.”
“Eh, they’ll be okay. Bri and Deaky will get them home safely and end up falling in love with them on the way,” Roger reassured you before shutting the door and walking around to his side and getting in. He tried to ignore how similar the situation could be between the two of you.
The drive to your apartment was quiet. You were slowly recovering from your bout of tears, only small sniffles escaping every now and then. When he got there, Roger parked the car and helped you out, practically carrying you with how heavily you were leaning on him all the way up the stairs.
You fumbled with your keys at the door and he gently grabbed them from your hands, leading the way into your little apartment and flicking on the lights. Roger walked with you to your kitchen, making you drink a big glass of water and then refilling it to take to your bedroom. Once the two of you were in there, he set down the water and then looked around for somewhere for you to sit while he helped take off your shoes.
He saw a chair against the wall that was piled with clothes and lifted them carefully to the ground, saying, “These will just have to go here for the moment.”
Then he sat you down and knelt in front of you, unlacing the boots you were wearing and slipping them off. You slumped in the chair as he did, acting only as a distraction since you kept running your hands through his hair and laughing when it got caught in your rings. Roger would’ve found it funny too if it weren’t so endearing and didn’t make him love you even more, which was the last thing he needed.
“Okay, got the shoes off. Time for some pajamas,” he remarked, going over to your dresser and opening the drawers until he found a pair of matching flannel pajamas. He helped you up from your chair and handed them to you, “Here you go, love.”
Setting the pajamas down on the chair, you moved to take your shirt off right away. Roger turned around quickly to avoid watching you undress, and you giggled at the panicked look that had come into his eyes when your fingers had reached for the hem of your shirt.
You undressed and dressed quickly, smoothing out the fabric with your hands as you told him, “All set.”
Roger turned back around with a sheepish look on his face and a blush covering his cheeks, a look that you thought to yourself was very cute.
“You know, you didn’t have to turn around, Rog. It’s not like we’re a couple of teenagers who have never seen anyone undress before,” you teased him, poking his chest lightly.
“Not my place to see you naked, love,” Roger replied softly. Then he ushered you towards your door and into the bathroom. “Time to brush your teeth.”
After globbing the toothpaste onto the brush, you brushed your teeth quickly, then told him around the toothbrush, “woo’re a rate a-y-itter, og, eher onider oing it ro-eshuna-y?”
“Um… what?” Roger asked in confusion.
You spit out the toothpaste and rinsed out your mouth before trying again, “You’re a great babysitter, Rog, ever consider doing it professionally?”
He rolled his eyes in reply and then said, “For your information, I made quite the living as a babysitter in Cornwall.”
Sticking your tongue out at him, you made your way back into your bedroom, only bumping into one doorway without his help.
You climbed into bed and Roger came up next to you to pull the covers up to your chin. Then he smoothed your messy hair away from your face and let his hand pause for a second at your cheek before dropping it.
“Okay, time for you to go to sleep. I’ll stay on the couch and check on you every couple of hours. To make sure you haven’t choked on your own vomit in your sleep,” he said with a smirk. He turned to walk towards the door, but you stopped him. “Can you come and hold me till I fall asleep?”
Roger turned back around to look at you with sad eyes and replied, “I probably shouldn’t, since you’ve got the boyfriend and all.”
“No. No boyfriend anymore,” you said, sitting up in your bed to look at him better. “Told him we were done as soon as I walked in on him with another woman.”
Roger’s eyes grew in astonishment and he rushed over to sit facing you on your bed. “He cheated on you? When?”
“This afternoon. Dumbass forgot he gave me a key to his place and fucked someone right on his sofa. Couldn’t miss it,” you said with a wry laugh, but tears were starting to spill out of your eyes.
Roger reached up and wiped them away before pulling you into a hug. “Oh, love, I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe anyone would ever do that to you.”
You were really crying again, and said against his shoulder, “I just don’t know how all of my relationships keep ending up so terrible. I just want to pick someone and love them and have them love me. That’s all.”
And Roger couldn’t help it when he said, “pick me” into your hair.
Pulling back, you looked at him in confusion, “Wh-what?”
“Pick me, choose me, love me, Y/N,” he said, with growing confidence. “I’ve loved you for a long time, but you’ve always been in relationships when I’m out of them and I didn’t want to ruin a chance of yours to be happy. But pick me, love, and I’ll never stop loving you.”
Your eyes searched his face for any chance of insincerity or dishonesty, but all you saw was love and openness. When Roger was just about to turn away and walk out of the room, you leaned up and kissed him. It was soft, gentle, and kind of wet with tears, but it felt right. You had always had lingering feelings for him, but had chalked it up to him being your best friend and his remarkable good looks. You had pushed down any real feelings of love, or at least tried to, whenever either of you were in relationships, which was always. Pulling away to look at him again, you saw the same love and openness in his eyes, but this time with hope.
You wiped your face on your sleeve in a way that Freddie would’ve definitely described as “graceful,” and kissed him again, moving your hands to his face to hold him close as you felt his rest softly on your neck and shoulders.
After a solid bit of getting acquainted with each other’s kissing, you pulled away once more and smiled up at him, feeling as happy as he looked with a big grin of his own.
“You really should go to bed though, to help that giant hangover you’re going to have in the morning,” he told you, and you rolled your eyes with a smile in return.
“Well now that there are no pesky ex’s in the way, will you join me?” you said with a cheeky smile.
“I will, but only for sleeping,” he said with a mock stern look and you held your hands up in defense. “I never said anything else. Though you will have to take your jeans off. No way am I sleeping in the same bed as someone with jeans. Not comfortable,” you told him with a teasing smile.
He acquiesced and started by taking off his corduroy jacket, leaving on his plain white T, and then shimmying off his blue jeans. Underneath were a black pair of boxer-briefs that made you laugh.
As you scooted over to make room for him and he climbed into bed with you, you snapped the waistband of his underwear, causing him to yelp, and you said, “You know, I always pictured you as a boxers type.”
“Hey, don’t go snapping my underwear, that’s not very nice,” he told you, squinting his eyes in mock derision.
“I’m not in control of my actions right now, I’m drunk,” you defended with a sly smile.
“Oh shut up,” Roger replied with a laugh, turning off your bedside lamp and sliding to lay down with you.
You snuggled into his side and he slung an arm around your shoulders. He closed his eyes but you leaned up once more and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. “Rog?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you,” you said softly.
“I love you too.”
🌲🌲🌲
Permanent Taglist: @riseetothesun, @caborhapch, @drowseoftaylor
