#wwahu

[softboyuris]

We Will Always Have Us pt. 1

The Realization || Weeks 0-6

Words: 4.8k+

Summary: Roger and you have been friends for a little over a year and have spent most of the time harmlessly flirting. On the night of your 17th birthday, Roger finally makes a move. One reckless night of passion leads to some unwanted consequences that’ll test the strength of their friendship. 

Warnings: teen pregnancy, implication of unprotected sex (wear protection folks!), slight language 

{masterlist} {series masterpost}

[part 1] [...] [part 6]

⁂  4 October 1966  ⁂

The car was cramped and humid but all you could focus on was the shirtless boy above you, leaving a trail of kisses up your body before settling on your mouth.

You hadn’t planned on this happening tonight, on your 17th birthday, or anytime soon for that matter. Hell, Roger wasn’t even your boyfriend, at least no officially. You two hung out quite a lot and were obscenely flirty with one another but you had never been out on a date before. Never kissed. 

In fact you were pretty sure he had a girlfriend. But he was always changing up who he was “hanging out” with, as he put it. Every party there was always some new girl hanging onto every word he said and he was likely to end up with her at the end of the night. It would not be shocking if he hadn’t been with six girls since you last heard an update. 

When Roger said he had left his present for you in his car, you wouldn’t’ve thought in a million years this was the present. But you had willingly followed him away from the party that your friends had so kindly thrown for you, to accompany him to his car. 

You were just talking, really, about school and life in general. In all honesty you kind of spaced out, nodding every once in a while. But all you could focus on was how close he was to you. How his shirt was showing just a little too much of his shoulder, like someone had been tugging on it trying to get the fabric out of the way. And when he talked, all you saw were his lips. His lips where his tongue would dart out every once in a while before the corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile or a smirk. Where his tongue would pull his lip in to settle between his teeth and it took nearly every ounce of your being not to moan at the sight.

You had never viewed him in such a light before. Literally. With the moon shining in through the window of his backseat, creating a slash of light across his face. He looked angelic. His long, or at least as long as the school permitted, slightly waved blonde hair perfectly framing his face. And how his whole face would smile when his lips turned up, and he let out a small laugh. In turn making you laugh. 

You were mesmerized. You barely noticed when his hand landed on your thigh, staying in place at first and then slowly inching up, under your skirt. And then he was whispering tempting things in your ear, dirty things in your ear that sent shivers down your spine. His breath hitting your neck made you dizzy and you had to close your eyes. Your mind wondering what it would feel like to have his mouth somewhere else, somewhere lower.

And that’s when he kissed you. And you melted into it, kissing him back with more urgency. You never knew you were so needy until his hands were pushing on your hips, rearranging your position so he was hovering above you. 

Your breath hitched at how absolutely perfect he looked in that moment, how divine. You weren’t sure what you did to be put in god’s good graces but lord did you thank heavens this was happening.

The kisses turned more needy and desperate before he started sucking on your neck and you could have sworn you would have fainted if he wasn’t grounding you there. Running your nails down his clothed back, you wished nothing more than for him to not have any clothes on at all.

So you pulled away. He was a little dazed and confused at first, thinking you were rejecting him until you propped yourself up and removed your shirt. The smile on his face grew, he couldn’t help but admire how perfect you looked, how perfect your boobs looked. Soon you were both naked. And there you were, lying beneath the hottest, most wanted boy in school, letting him take your virginity. And all you could do was smile.

In the following weeks, you hooked up occasionally. He would come over to your house to ‘study’ and then screw you so hard you were worn out for the rest of the day. You didn’t tell any of your friends. You knew they would just judge you for falling for his charm. And although it was true, you didn’t think you were like every other girl he hooked up with. You weren’t someone he was gonna fuck and forget. Cause even when he inevitably moved on, you would still remain friends. This wasn’t gonna get in the way of that.

When some random girl at school started throwing herself at him two weeks later, he very politely informed you he would be sleeping with her now. It was more the delivery of this information than the information itself that stung the most, which you made sure to make him aware of. You weren’t necessarily hurt, you knew this was bound to happen at some point, but your stomach still swooped when you saw him in the hallway with another girl.

Regardless, Roger was your friend, through and through, and him ditching you to be with another girl wasn’t going to change that. But something else definitely could.

⁂  15 November 1966  ⁂ 

You were late. Really late. It was 8:05 and school started at seven. It wasn’t your fault you had woken up late. You had a really bad stomach ache last night that left you curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor in fear that you would hurl all over your very nice bed.

Your mom had done what she thought was right and let you continue to sleep. You loved her but you could not miss anymore school. You had gotten in enough trouble already for skipping with Roger over the past few months. 

The hallways were eerily quiet. A part of you enjoyed it and the other half absolutely hated it. School, in your experience, was always loud. Anyone who’s friends with Roger can certainly vouch for that. You hated that you could hear every step you took reverberate off the walls and how the students in class right now could probably hear your frantic footsteps as you hurriedly walked down the hallway.

Even though you were a whole hour late for class, you were hoping your first block teacher wouldn’t get too pissed at you. But he had a tendency to hate tardy students so you were walking as fast as you could but every step made you more and more dizzy until you had to lean against a locker to stabilize yourself.

You’d been having these fainting fits for roughly a week and you were starting to get tired of them. That and the constant hunger, yet not wanting to eat anything nearby, you constantly felt. It was super annoying. How could you be hungry and not want to eat anything at the same time?

Last night you were sure it would all come to fruition in the form of a stomach bug when it literally felt like your intestines were wringing themselves out inside you, but sadly no. You had to deal with period-like cramps for four hours before you managed to knock yourself out with some antihistamines. 

You were pretty certain at this point it was nothing serious, playing it off as some weird hormonal imbalance before your period came. Some premenstrual cramping if you will. 

When you could see straight again, you pushed yourself off the locker and pulled open the door to Mr. Irish’s class, your first class of the day that would be over shortly. He looks none too happy when he hands you a slip of paper, which excuses you to the attendance office to sign in late, before ushering you to your seat. 

You turn to the class, expecting to find your seat at the front of the classroom empty, except it’s not. Someone took your spot and if you could see who it was through the spinning room, you would probably give them a glare. Instead, you find the one empty seat behind Roger who gives you a cheeky smile, which you of course return. His smile starts to fade as you get closer to him, melting into a look of worry.

“Are you feeling okay? You look a bit pale?” He asks in a whispered tone, his hand reaching out to grab your forearm as you come to a halt in front of him.

You furrow your eyebrows, swallow and give a curt nod before you feel the cold tiled floor beneath your back and the world goes black.

⁂  a few moments later  ⁂ 

The lights are too bright for your eyes before you even get them open and the ringing in your ears makes you want to pass out again, at least then it would stop. Through closed eyes, you can see the outline of someone kneeled down beside you and you already know it’s Roger before you hear his concerned voice calling your name.

“I’m fine,” you grumble, giving your temples a squeeze. “No need to freak out, Rog.” You run your hands over your face before squinting your eyes open, letting them adjust to the harsh fluorescents of the classroom lighting. 

Roger is squatted down in front of you, a hand lying comfortingly on your upper arm. He gives you a reassuring smile before helping you sit up. “You sure about that?” He chuckles but there is definite worry laced in his words.

You open your mouth to answer but the movement of sitting up has your head, and stomach, spinning and before you can get to your feet, or better yet a trash can you’re spewing your breakfast on Roger’s lap.

⁂                                                         ⁂                                                             ⁂ 

“I really am sorry.” You say, probably for the hundredth time. Your teacher gave Roger and you permission to leave class. He strongly urged you to go to the nurse, as did Rog, but you insisted you were fine, you just wanted to help Roger out. “Really is a shitty way to start your day, huh?”

Roger is essentially nude, spare his boxers, and standing in front of the sinks in the girls bathroom, which you claimed as yours by locking the door. He’s desperately trying to get his clothes clean but you know it’s no use. “Not the most ideal way but it got me out of Mr. Irish’s boring lecture.” 

“Just call me your saving grace,” You joke, fiddling with your hands.

“My sick little angel, that’s what you are.” He chuckles. You hate when he uses pet names with you. You love pet names, but when it comes from his mouth it makes your stomach swoon and you know he means it in an endearing way but all it does is remind you of the nights you had together when ‘baby’ and ‘love’ were words that slipped from hips lips as he filled you up. And he wasn’t even saying it in a pet name type way, but still. Your heart might’ve thumped a little harder in your chest.

“There’s no point you know, I think I ruined your perfectly planned outfit.” You tease. He had been wearing jeans, which to anyone else would have just been ordinary jeans but you had told him they made his ass look nice and now he wore them as often as was acceptable, and a simple band tee that you had actually given him on his birthday over the summer.

From where you’re standing, you can see Roger’s lips turn up in a smile. “You’re right. But I can’t bloody well go nude for the rest of the day.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” You smirk, eyeing him through the mirror.

Again, that smile, stretched even wider if possible. He turns off the running water, giving up and throwing his sopping mess of clothes into the trash can. “Wherever will I find clothes now.” He fake complains.

You but your lip, thinking through his options and landing on one that has a smirk adorning your features. Without a word, you spin on the ball of your foot and open the door, looking back only to make sure he was following you.

“No.” Roger states blatantly at the pair of sweats in your hands. You’re in the nurse’s office now, where there are always spare clothes kids leave behind at school. “No way am I wearing that.” He crosses his arms over his chest, eyeing you.

“It’s sweats or nude. Pick your poison.” You extend your arm more in his direction.

“I’d rather go nude, thank you.”

“Not if you don’t want to be sitting in detention this Saturday Mr. Taylor.” The principal, Mrs. Devon says as she passes by the door,

You momentarily look behind you, seeing the blur of your principal pass by and you can’t help but let out a chuckle. Roger quickly swipes the clothes from your hands and, with a bashful look and rosy cheeks, excuses himself to the bathroom to change.

“You owe me big time.” He comments as he steps out of the bathroom. The sweats don’t exactly fit him. The hoodie is way too big for his slim physique and the pants are just the slightest bit too small, leaving little to the imagination. “Stop staring at my junk.”

“I’m not gonna be the only one you say that to today.” You remark, looking back up into his eyes, your own glistening in pleasure. You sure are enjoying this.

Roger pinches your arm, something he does when he’s embarrassed and doesn’t want to be teased anymore. “Hey! Not my fault it doesn’t leave much to the imagination.” 

“Half the girls at our school don’t need an imagination to know what you got, I assure you.” You continue to poke fun at him, much to his dismay. 

“You’re words don’t hurt me, in fact you’ve boosted my ego.” He puffs out his chest in order to further prove his point.

You sigh in faux dismay. “Oh whatever will I do? You can barely fit through the door with that ego of yours.” He shakes his head at you, pinching your arm again. You flinch back in response, prompting him to continue his shenanigans until he’s got you wrapped in his arms, your back pressed against him. You’re a laughing mess. 

“I really am sorry though,” you say between gasps of air, trying to return your breathing to normal. Not something easily achieved with his arms wrapped so tightly around you. “I’ll buy you new jeans. The same ones.”

“They were my favorite.” He gives you one last squeeze before letting you go just to take your hand and walk you back to class. It’s a normal gesture. You guys may have only been friends for the past year but he somehow knew you like no else did. Understood you like no one else could. 

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By the time lunch rolls around, it seems the whole school has heard about your fainting spell this morning and you could not hate the attention more. Some people come up to you concerned and ask repeatedly if you’re okay, if you’re feeling better. Your answer is always ‘I’m fine’. A majority, however, thinks it was all an act to get out of class and spend time with Roger. Which you find completely laughable because who would make themselves throw up, let alone on someone, just to spend time with said person. The rest just ignored you and you praised them for that.

On the other hand, your friends could have cared less. Although it sounds like a rude thing, it really isn’t. Your friends do care about you and your wellbeing but they know you’ve been getting a bit faint recently, convinced it’s because of the upcoming midterms that you always stress out about way too much. You’ll do fine, they all assure you. You know you’re smart. You know you get good marks but you’re still prone to stress about exams. 

They pass it off as just another day and you’re beyond grateful. They do, however, tease you about Roger, a normal pass time for them. You’re the only one in your friend group that is good friends with him. Hell, you may be the only girl in school who is truly friends with him, not just a fun time. They always make fun of the two of you for flirting nonstop, half the time you don’t even realize you’re doing it. Like one time when he bought a cupcake from a bake sale but he didn’t want the icing so you licked it off without a second thought and he continued to eat like nothing had happened. That was a fun gossip day at school. All the girls went batshit over it and a part of you actually enjoyed having them get jealous over you.

Your friends still didn’t know that Roger had slept with you over a month ago, and on numerous occasions thereafter. It was something you kept between the two of you. Although you were quite certain a part of them knew. Their jokes started getting a little too real and you would get bashful and they would just tease you more. But maybe it was just because you got flustered over it and not because of the reason you were getting flustered, their jokes were so close to the truth sometimes it brought memories of Roger’s hands on you, places the public shouldn’t see and you would have to look away to conceal the bliss on your face. 

“Come on, (y/n), could you not find anything else for him to wear?” You’re sitting outside under a tree with your four closest friends, save Roger who’s playing football with some of his mates in the field in front of you. Charlotte looks over at you, waiting on an answer. It’s the first time she’s looked away from Roger’s, well you know, since you got situated in the shade. 

“Nope. There was simply nothing else that would do, unless you wanted him to flounce around in a skirt all day.” You joke, leaning back on your elbows as you watch Roger kick the ball to Ryan who kicks it past their makeshift goal.

“That would have been a sight to behold.”Comments Zach from behind you. He’s laying on his back, a book held over his eyes. You know he’s reading but a part of his attention is set on his friends conversation. He always does this. He is always reading but also observing and listening in on others conversations, giving one-liners every once in a while. It’s what drew you to him when he moved here three years ago.

You laugh silently, a smile spreading across your face. The mere image of Roger in a skirt… well you’d rather not think about that with your friends around. That was definitely an image you’d be saving for later though, in the comfort of your bedroom. “It would indeed,” you decided to respond. 

A gust of chilled air blows over you and your friends. Winter is approaching and you could not be more excited. The holidays were your favorite time of year. You always spoiled your friends with too many presents, most of which they didn’t need. They loved you for it, your bank account didn’t but you could care less, you always put aside your paychecks in December for your gift-fund.

Charlotte shivers and your other friend Sam takes her jacket off and places it over Char’s shoulders. You can see Charlotte’s eyes glisten as a smile pulls at her lips. She pulls the jacket tighter around her, muttering a small ‘thanks’ under her breath so only Sam could hear, who is also smiling. God, were they flirty. 

⁂                                                         ⁂                                                             ⁂

Sitting in your last class of the day, you could not be less bothered with the lecture your teacher was attempting to give. Half the class was dozing off and the other half was just not paying attention, throwing balls of paper and pencils across the room in an attempt to hit their friend, or the teacher.

You were sitting at the back of the room, next to Roger who was tapping his pencil against his desk rhythmically. You had been telling him he should stop trying to learn guitar and pick up a damn drumstick already but he always shushed you. His pass was guitar, or so he claimed. You had your hand resting on your cheek, fighting the exhaustion that was threatening to take over your body. Your bed sounded so sweet right now.

As if on cue, the bell finally rang, a sound akin to that of nails on a chalkboard to you, but a sound that also meant freedom. You were up and out of your seat within no time, slinging your bag over your shoulder and speed walking to the door. You liked being the first one out of the door so you could start your journey home, walking of course. You only lived a few short minutes from school but if you waited more than a millisecond, the masses came flooding out with you and that meant socializing which you were particularly not in the mood for.

Regardless, once you make it to the sidewalk well in front of any students who may be tempted to strike up a conversation with you, Roger falls into stride beside you. “Don’t you drive?” You ask the blonde, keeping your eyes on the bright sky in front of you, partly obscured by buildings that line the streets.

“Cars’ in the shop.” He answers simply, like you should know his cars’ in the shop. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, only one returning so he can put a cigarette in his mouth, lighting it with the same hand. 

You let out a sigh, “How many times do I have to tell you smoking is bad for you?” You look over to him, watching as he takes a drag. A few seconds pass before he breathes out the smoke and answers you.

“However many times it takes to convince you of the same.” You shake your head, squinting your eyes at him. You know he’s right. On the rare, and I mean rare occasion he walked home with you, he always smoked. And you always ended up joining him. You didn’t understand the hype around it, it didn’t make you feel cool or different but you still did it. Maybe it was because it was something only Roger and you shared. He never shared his cigarette with anyone else, only you. That made you feel special.

“Oi, shut up.” You playfully push him to the side. He laughs, stumbling over his feat a bit before regaining his balance. He offers you the cigarette and you take it. But as you’re bringing it up to your lips, something in the back of your mind tells you no to. And you listen to it.

Roger gives you a concerned look, almost hurt look, as you hand it back without taking a drag. “Something wrong? We always share a smoke when we walk together.”

You put your hands in the pockets of your jacket, giving a closed mouthed smile. “Not today. Just something’s telling me not to.” You add when he gives you a questioning look.

He puts his hands up in defense and the subject is dropped. The silence that flows between you is uncomfortable and awkward. At least to you. As far as you know, it’s having no effect on Roger as he continues to smoke and look around at the architecture surrounding the two of you. He looks angelic, a word you never thought you’d be using to describe infamous playboy Roger Taylor, but he does. The sun is starting to set on the horizon, sending out rays of sunlight that dance across his face. The wind slightly blows his hair around and he has his cigarette lying limply on the edge of his mouth, hands in his pockets. 

He catches you looking at him and smiles. You break eye contact, looking away with warm cheeks. And all of a sudden you feel nauseous again. It hits you like a ton of bricks and you have to take a moment in your step to try and stop your head from swimming. Roger stops a few feet in front of you when he notices you aren’t beside him anymore and once agains he’s right by your side, uttering questions along the line of ‘are you okay’.

You shake your head, clearing away the black spots you see and straighten yourself up right. You mumble an ‘mmhmm’ before looking up at him, “I just forgot I needed to pick up something at the pharmacy. For my mom.” You added when his eyebrows furrowed in question. 

“I can come with you.” He suggests, a hand on your upper arm. He looks so damn concerned and it hurts your heart to see the worry in his eyes. Since when has he cared so much about you?

You shake your head, “No. I’ll be fine. It’s just a little ways back and you’re so close to being home. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” You turn around and start walking back towards the pharmacy before he can protest. It takes a lot not to turn around and makes sure he’s walking the other direction but you manage.

When you get home not ten minutes later, you make a beeline for the bathroom upstairs. Your mom welcomes you home and you send back a short, sweet response as you climb the stairs. You set down the brown paper bag on the counter and stare at it. It’s beyond wrinkled from you clenching and unclenching your hands on the walk back home, a motion that you continue to do as you pace back and forth in your bathroom.

When the nausea had swept over you, you came to a sudden realization of something you did not want to come to the realization of. It only caused your stomach to swim even more and with Roger so close to you, you could barely breathe so you made up an excuse about the pharmacy just to get a fresh breath of air. And then you realized you actually needed to go to the pharmacy. 

You dreaded it.

Come on (y/n), just take the stupid test. You’re probably worrying for nothing and the test will tell you exactly that. You didn’t realize it but you were mumbling under your breath to no one but yourself. Stopping in front of the sink, you take the test out of the bag, practically ripping it out of its packaging.

When the time comes to wait three minutes, you’re panicking again. Your hands are getting clammy so you rub them on your jeans. Pressing your back against the cool plaster of the bathroom wall, you force yourself to breathe. Eyes closed, your mind drifts to thought of Roger and pretty soon your breathing is no longer under control. Roger. Shit.

Your little kitchen timer goes off, sending a loud buzzing sound knocking around the confined space. You jump. Now you’re down right scared. You don’t want to know the results. You should’ve let him come to the pharmacy with you and confided in what was now your biggest fear. Or told Charlotte she needed to come over. She would. She’s been your best friend since you were old enough to know what a best friend was. She would understand and she would know exactly what to say. 

But no. You were alone. You were alone and afraid and you couldn’t help but think that you would be in the same position nine months from now, except there would be doctors rushing all around you and you would be in pain and hating everything and, oh my god, you were giving yourself a panic attack.

You closed your eyes again, got your breathing back down to a normal rate- at least as normal as it could be in this moment- and with shaking hands picked up the stick.

It’s only in your hands for a second before it clinks to the ground. You’re breathing erratically and tears are falling without care or notice down your cheeks. You’re a shaking and sobbing mess curled up in a ball on the floor when your mom walks in, concerned by all the noise. She sees it before you can hide it from her.

You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant and there’s only one person who could be the father. And boy were you not looking forward to that conversation at all.  

[softboyuris]

Masterlist

I write for (& read ie. you’ll find this content on my page):

Supernatural

Queen

The Walking Dead

Criminal Minds

One Piece

That 70s Show

Key:

✘=smut/nsfw

Queen

Roger Taylor

Love of My Life 

| Roger constantly being away on tour takes a toll on his partner 

Rough Night at the Rainbow Theatre  ✘

| A hot, angry Roger. Need I say more

We Will Always Have Us 

| Roger gets reader pregnant {series}

Be My Mistake

| Roger finding solace in the arms of other girls to forget about reader

Not You

| Roger cheating, I am sorry (and this flopped oof)

Actors

Ben Hardy 

Just Barely ✘

| Reader and Ben keep just barely missing each other on his birthday

The Globes ✘

| Celebrating Bohemian’s Rhapsody Golden Globes win the best way I can

The Walking Dead

Carl Grimes

Nerves

| Admittance of feelings leads to an awkward confrontation 

The Loss of a Sleeping Buddy

| Tensions dissipate when reader comforts Carl

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

Needlepoint

| Preview to a could be series/drabble

Doctor’s Orders ✘

| Spencer loses his virginity, finally

[softboyuris]

We Will Always Have Us Masterlist - ongoing

{masterlist}

Roger Taylor x Reader series

Posting: Whenever I get around to it but yes I am still updating (August 2019)

Summary: Roger and reader have been best friends for a little under a year. Things start to escalate in the backseat of his car on her 17th birthday, leaving both of them with much more responsibility than anticipated.

| The Realization : Part 1

| The Principal : Part 2

| The Confession : Part 3

| The Truth : Part 4

| The Discussion : Part 5

| The Formal : Part 6

| The Graduation : Part 7

| The Water : Part 8

| The Labor : Part 9

| The Baby : Part 10

| The University : Part 11

| The Band : Part 12

| The Degree : Part 13

| The Mistake : Part 14

| The Surprise : Part 15

| The Discovery : Part 16

| The Album : Part 17

| The Lesson : Part 18

| The Tour : Part 19

| The Reunion : Part 20

| The Farm : Part 21

| The Flight : Part 22

| The Conversation : Part 23

| The unnamed chapter : Part 24

| The Confession (pt. 2) : Part 25

| The Show : Part 26

| The Family : Part 27

| The Knee : Part 28

| The Birthday : Part 29

| The Lunch : Part 30

| The Game : Part 31

| The Bells : Part 32

| The Trip : Part 33

| The Break : Part 34

| The End : Part 35

| The Epilogue

[softboyuris]

We Will Always Have Us pt. 2

The Principal || Week 12

Words: 3.3k+ 

Summary: Ironing out the finer details of your situation with your mom, ie a boring chapter tbh

Warnings: Teen pregnancy. 

{masterlist} {series masterpost}

[part 1] [...] [part 6]

⁂  19 December 1966 ⁂

The sun glided in through the gaps in your curtains. Your eyes lazily opening and shutting, you did not want to get up. You knew you had to. You had missed three days of school this week and gone home early on Monday. It was Friday, you could get through a Friday.

You let a groan pass your lips as you covered your face with your hands, rubbing your eyes a little bit too aggressively. You stretched your arms out above you, normally this would help to wake you up but recently it hadn’t been working as well. Being pregnant meant no caffeine for you which meant no coffee. Which was not good.

It’s been almost a month and a half since your mom found you broken on the bathroom floor. She was pissed. There is no doubt about it, you’re not about to pretend like she wasn’t. At first she thought it was a joke, some prank someone was pulling on you or her. But then you looked her in the eyes and she saw the fear deeply rooted there and, well, exploded.

A long, calm yet loud rant ensued about how you needed to be more cautious and make better decisions. And you sat there on the the floor and took it because it was all true. Why you didn’t make sure Roger had a condom, you can’t recall. Probably because his hands were everywhere they had never been before, places no one had touched you before and you became careless. You didn’t try to stop the tears from falling but you desperately wanted them to, it was giving you a massive headache.

After your mom had spent her energy lecturing you, the two of you sat in silence for a good five minutes. You knew what she wanted to say, you can’t get rid of it, or more you couldn’t afford it. You and your mom lived a perfectly fine life, you were by no means poor but you were far off from rich. The doctor visit alone would bleed the both of you dry. 

But instead of voicing this, she said it with her eyes. A deep concern rooted there that made you want to hide away and cry some more. “I let you down,” were the first words that you spoke to her since your greeting when you got home. And the tears were back.

Your mom was by your side now, wrapping her arms around your shaking frame and whispering reassurances in your ear. “You have not let me down. We’ll get through this. There are worse things that could happen.” The last one you didn’t believe. What could be worse than you being pregnant and having a gut feeling the dad wasn’t going to help in any way, shape or form.

You were already stressing over that conversation. Your mom went down to the kitchen where she was cooking your favorite meal, although the smell of it made you queasy and you instantly cursed yourself for being so stupid that night a month ago.

The two of you talked for hours. About your plan, about what would happen with school, who you would tell, when you would tell them, how you’d tell Roger, or more if you’d be telling him. You knew it was the right thing to do, tell him. He has a right to know but you wish you could skip over the confrontation and just have him know already. Your mom almost instantly offered to tell him for you which you instantly shot down. If he was going to find out it had to be from you. 

The last topic you covered was what would happen. With the baby. Would you keep it? Give it up for adoption? Abortion was out of the question. Forget not having the money, the procedure could very well harm you and aside from that finding a place to do it at would be near impossible.

At this point, the sun had set and you were getting tired. You were worn out from the long day you’d just had and more than anything wanted to forget everything that had happened in the past four hours. You told your mom this and she let you go to your room so you could go to bed, but in all honesty you just didn’t want to talk about what would happen nine months from now. It brought up too many unwanted questions. Questions you did not want to know the answers to.

You were quiet the rest of the week at school. Barely speaking a word in class or at lunch with your friends. They knew something was off but they didn’t pry, they knew if it was important you would eventually tell them. You weren’t sure if you ever would.

The worst part was seeing Roger. You swear you didn’t have this many classes with him last week but now he was showing up everywhere you went. It was like he knew. Which, who could blame him? You did throw up on him, abruptly leave as you were walking home together, and then proceeded to ignore him for a week. Which only made matters ten times worse because you knew he cared and he was worried and you couldn’t even muster the balls to say “hi” to him in the hallway.

You avoided him at all costs, one time dodging into the bathroom when you saw him heading your direction in the hallway. Except you didn’t look at the sign on the door and had walked into the boys bathroom, not the girls. The looks on their faces were absolutely priceless but you were embarrassed nonetheless.

As the weeks started passing, your current state of affairs got pushed further and further and further into the recesses of your mind until you rarely thought about it. You started talking to your friends again and you noticed how they were more relaxed at lunch, it only made you nervous. How could you tell them now when they think whatever was wrong has blown over. It’s far from being over. 

You’re not avoiding Roger anymore but your conversations are still short, much like how it was when he first approached you after math in the early parts of the previous school year. 

He had noticed you doing extremely well in class and was practically begging you to tutor him, which of course you agreed to. How could you turn down such a cutie? He would come over every Thursday and you would help him with his homework, which he would always whine about having to do, pressing his forehead into your shoulder and groaning in protest when you made him work the problem out himself instead of doing it for him.

It always made you laugh and weekly study sessions turned into bi-weekly meetings which quickly morphed into the two of you hanging out at any given chance. He loved being around you, your positivity and sarcasm was a great mix to get him out of a bad mood, which he had a tendency of slipping into. And you loved him. His attitude, his anger, his attempt at acting like a jock when he was so obviously very soft. They way he would fall asleep on your chest when you would watch movies together or stay up late to listen to your favorite bands new song on the radio.

You missed him. You missed him more than the sky miss the sun during the night and the moon during the day. All you wanted was to fall into his arms and hope he would be there to catch you. But you were scared. Scared of what he’d do, what he’d think. Sure, you weren’t going to be able to hide it forever but you sure as hell were gonna try for as long as you could. You didn’t want to lose him as a friend and you weren’t prepared to risk it by flipping his world upside down. 

So far, you hadn’t started showing. You more just looked like you had packed on a little extra weight for winter, and being someone who didn’t care much about how they looked, it didn’t faze any of your friends. You did still wear oversized clothes though. You may not look pregnant but you sure did feel pregnant.

Roughly a week after the test had confirmed it, your mom took you to the doctor to get a final confirmation. A lot of tears were shed that day, happy or sad you weren’t sure. Literally every hormone in your body was off kilter so you never really knew if it was truly you reacting or just the baby. You accepted it as half-and-half. That was week seven though, when all you had to deal with were mood swings and nausea.

This week was particularly rough. You had left school early because you could barely sit still for five minutes. Not only did you have to pee, a lot, your whole body ached. You genuinely thought something was wrong but your doctor assured you it was just a part of being pregnant. And it sucked. So you convinced your mom to let you stay home the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. She wasn’t forcing you to go to school today but you knew it would be wise. You still hadn’t informed your principal of your situation and Friday was as a good a day as any.

Even though your bump was barely defined, you threw a sweatshirt on that would easily hide any roundness and then threw on some very loose fitting jeans, which barely buttoned. “I need clothes.” You mumbled to your mom as you swiped an apple from a bowl in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and taking a bite out of it. You had an insane craving for apples. You could seriously pack away at least five a day so your mom made sure there was always a supply on them at the ready for you.

“We just bought you some, didn’t we?” She asked from her place at the round table across from you, a newspaper held in front of her face.

“Yes, but that was before everything.” You sighed, shoulders deflating. “Mom, my jeans barely button.” You hate complaining about stuff like this to your mom but it’s not like you could very well go to school without pants. And there was no way you were wearing sweatpants. You had one pair and they were saved for private nights alone.

Your mom pulls the newspaper down so she’s looking at you, “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

A smile instantly spreads across your face as you skip over to her, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you, mom.”

And then you left, yelling an ‘I love you’ and you shut the door behind you and started your walk to school.

You were enjoying the silent walk alone. For some reason, it felt like today was gonna be a good day. Until you remembered that you were going to tell your principal you were pregnant. Then you felt sick. Your mom and you had decided that when you reached twenty weeks, she would be pulling you out of school. If you decided to give the baby up for adoption, something which you avidly avoided discussing, then your mom didn’t want this to stain your reputation. By twenty weeks you would most definitely be showing.

You just hoped your principal would be okay with this. Mrs. Devon was really chill about most things but you weren’t sure what her views on teen pregnancy were. Plus, you were essentially telling her you’d be missing twenty weeks of school, and graduation potentially, but still wanted to graduate on time. How you were going to go about doing this, you had no idea. You knew that you would have to tell one of your friends so they could help you learn the material and such, it wasn’t like you were gonna drop out of school for a few weeks. You still wanted to do the schoolwork just from the comfort of your bed.

So lost in your thoughts, you barely noticed when someone knocked your shoulder. Momentarily fear coursed through your body and your heart rate quickened until you looked up to see a mess of curly blonde hair and a cheeky smile. “Rog. Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You push him lightly.

He mumbles a sorry through his laughter before asking how you were doing. “I haven’t seen you in forever.” He complains.

“It’s been three days.” You state, a smile curling your lips. He’s such a dork sometimes.

“Yeah well it feels like an eternity, okay?” You shake your head in response and give some blanket statement about how you’re doing fine, just feeling a bit under the weather. “Well you seem fine.” You glare at his insinuation that you had skipped school. “But I do sincerely hope you feel better.” His voice is dripping in sarcasm and it makes you laugh, your cheeks heating up a contrast to the cold air blowing around you.

It’s now mid-December so naturally it had started to cool down a lot. Mid-terms were coming up, literally next week, and you could be less bothered by them. Something which all your friends were stunned to see. You had other, more important, things taking up your thoughts at the moment.

You don’t respond to his comment and he doesn’t say anything more. But he does grab your hand, intertwining your fingers and you feel your heartbeat pick up again. Everytime Roger touches you, you get goosebumps and feel all giddy inside. But this time a wave of guilt rushes over you and you want to pull away from his touch. You don’t. That would cause suspicions and questions you didn’t want to answer so you let him hold your hand and walk you all the way to your first class.

Watching him walk away with a smile on his face after hugging you goodbye made you want to cry. He was so damn happy and you couldn’t help but think that you would be ruining that when you inevitably had to tell him. You didn’t want to do that. You didn’t want to crush his spirit, have him hate you. Or worse, hurt him.

When lunch rolls around, you don’t meet up with your friends outside like you normally would. Even though it’s close to freezing, they still always insisted that sitting under the sun was better than being inside. You agreed which is why you didn’t protest but you took time out of your lunch break to see the principal.

Mrs. Devon was writing away when you knocked lightly on her door. “Ah, (y/n). What a pleasant surprise.” She greets, looking up from her desk

“Mrs. Devon.” You smile. “I don’t mean to intrude, but there’s something I needed to talk to you about.” You’re nervous, pulling at your nails as you bit on your lip.

Her smile is bright and is calms you the slightest bit. “Have a seat, let me just finish writing this letter.”

You took a deep breath in, walking the three small steps so you were inside her office. Your hands were shaking when you went to the pull the chair out enough so you could sit down. You certainly had not thought this through. What were you gonna say to her? How were you gonna say it to her? You should have convened with your mom about this before doing. You felt stupid. You want to get up and leave but that would be rude. And even more stupid.

The sound of her setting her pen down made you jump slightly. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything. “Are you feeling better? Your mom said you had come down with a cold.”

The small talk was killing you. Mrs. Devon and you had a pretty good relationship. You were essentially a straight A student, always on time and never skipped, excluding the days when you were under the bad influence of Roger. “I’m pregnant.” You didn’t mean to just say it but you if you hated anything it was small talk and you had been biting your tongue since you walked in the door.

She sat there, looking a little stunned and dazed before getting up. For a split second you thought she was leaving, maybe going to tell the nurse or something. It wasn’t logical and you knew it but then her hand closed around the door knob, shutting the door with a soft click. She didn’t say anything as she walked back to her desk.

“(Y/n), I mean this in the nicest way possible, are you planning some sort of prank on me?” She clasped her friends in front of her, lying them on the desk. Her eyes never left yours and you swallowed hard but your throat was dry and god were you thirsty all of a sudden. You answered with a small shake of your head. She sat there a moment longer. You didn’t know what to say and you weren’t sure of how she would react next.

And then she smiled. “It’s okay.” Her words were comforting and nice and she sounded like your mother. You raised an eyebrow in confusion. Of course it was fine. You’d known about for weeks, why was she saying that. “You’re crying.” She said as if to answer your question. That’s when you felt the tear fall from your chin onto your sweatshirt.

You quickly wiped them away. “Sorry, I didn’t realize. Hormones, right?” You chuckled trying to lighten the atmosphere of awkward tension that was threatening to suffocate you. And she laughed to. She must have felt the tension to or felt that you felt tension and was laughing in an attempt to ease it. “See, the thing is, I don’t know what I’m going to do with it just yet and if I do decided to give it up for adoption, I would really rather not be known as the girl who was stupid enough to get pregnant.

“So my mom and I figured that when I hit twenty weeks, in about eight, I’ll be pulled out of school and start homeschooling, if you will. By then I’ll most definitely be showing and I would really rather not have to deal with the stares, and comments, and questions. Only if it’s alright with you, of course. I still want to graduate on time and everything in the spring.” Everything falls from your lips without a filter and you’re moderately proud of yourself for being relatively composed.

She just stares at you for a long while and you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You know she’s thinking it over but you’re still nervous. And you have to pee.

“Of course. I’ll talk more about it with the vice principal and we’ll sort something out for you. Although, I don’t know if you’ll be able to walk the stage with your class. It’s already December, add nine months-”

“Six. Add six months.” You correct. That was weird to think about. You had been pregnant for three months. You had known for almost two.

“Add six months and that’s end of June.” She leans back in her chair. “Not saying that you aren’t allowed to, seeing as you get the grades and make the right marks, but if you’re worried about your image, you might want to consider that you’ll still be pregnant, very pregnant, when graduation rolls around.”

The conversation leaves you more confused than you were before it happened. Graduation was always a big deal to you. If you couldn’t go to prom or any other school dance it would be okay as long as you got to walk the stage with your class. With Charlotte, Sam, Zach. Roger. Oh shit, Roger. He was causing more problems than fixing them nowadays.

One thing you knew for certain was you were going to have to tell one of your friends. You were going to have to tell them today.

Taglist: @a3lizalee, @spookyfrances, @isabella-bby, @shae-is-not-ok, @hystericalqueeen, @fredthelegend, @xilann, @onceuponadetectivedemigod,

[softboyuris]

We Will Always Have Us pt. 5

The Discussion || Week 23

Roger Taylor x Reader

Words: 2.3k+

A/N: This is essentially a flashback chapter simply because we have to fill Roger in on everything but it’s easier this way, so it’s not boring. I promise (to the best of my ability) I will try to post regularly from now on. This kind of sucks but I’m already writing the next chapter and that one’s good so look forward to that

Warnings: language maybe, probably not historically or medically accurate dont @/ me

{masterlist} {series masterpost}

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6]

When Roger had finally gotten around to dropping you off, it was well into the night. You were sure your mum wouldn’t be too pleased with you staying out so late, keeping Roger out so late on a school night. But time seemed to get away from the two of you.

He wouldn’t stop asking questions once the kissing bit was over, a fact that left you feeling a bit lost. You missed the feeling of his lips on yours, had dreamt about the feeling ever since your fateful night in the backseat of his car. But it was always a subtle memory, a ghost of a feeling. Now that the feeling was renewed, you couldn’t get enough.

But you need to talk about that first before going in blind. Needed to set boundaries or at least a basis as to what this was. So you brushed his questions aside, told him you were getting tired and should be heading home. 

You planned on thinking through your answers, maybe even writing them down. Giving it to him plain and simple without any interruptions. But you couldn’t stop thinking about his lips, that kiss and the questions that arose from it. 

“Are we, like, in a relationship?” You asked, picking at your nails. 

Roger looked up from his paper, eyes landing on your nervous state. He reached across the table and placed his hand lightly on yours. You looked up.

When he started to say something, you cut him off. “Be honest. I may be emotional and pregnant but I still hate liars.”

A smile tugged on his lips and he turned your hand over to grab it. “I think it would be of our best interest to wait.” A ponderous silence followed. Silence only broken by the shuffling of students around the library.

“You’ve been sitting on that for a while, haven’t you.” You half smiled, eyes bright. Roger gave you a little nod. 

“I figured it was something we should discuss but I didn’t want to hurt or offend you in the process.”

“You could never hurt me. Not truly.” Warmth swelled in your chest as Roger chuckled, muttering something about how he could but would never do so intentionally. “And anyway, I think you’re right. If we get into something now, we’ll never know if it’s out of necessity or truth.”

“See. That right there. That’s why I have to work out my sentences days in advance.” You furrow your eyebrows at him, a playful smile lighting up your face. “You’re so eloquent in the way you speak and I’m, not.”

You laugh. A laugh that closes your eyes so you can’t see the fleeting look of admiration on Roger’s face. “You do tend to maunder.” You say and a wave of confusion washes over his features. 

“Is that a bad thing?” He asks tentatively. The genuine concern evident in both his words and on his face has you laughing. “What does it mean? Y/N. Is it bad?” You just keep laughing.

Roger pulls into your driveway as the hands of the clock both settle at the top. You looked over at him. You had the urge to say something, anything really but nothing came to mind so you just stared at him. Absentmindedly picking at your cuticles.

He leaned across the middle console and wrapped you in the best hug he could from the awkward position. “Call me, okay? If you need anything.” He said as he pulled away and settled back in his seat.

You nodded, biting your lip. You slowly got out of the car, making your way up your front porch steps. Roger didn’t start pulling out of your driveway until he knew you were safely inside your house, something that warmed the beating in your chest.

You pressed your back against the front door, closing you eyes and inhaling deeply. It was hard to fight the smile trying to consume your face, and in the end you lost. 

The padding of footsteps progressively getting louder is what pulled you out of your reverie. “Y/N! I was worried sick. What kept you out so late? Are you feeling okay?”

You blinked open your eyes, gazing at your mum who was standing so close to you your toes touched. “I told him.” A beat of silence. “He knows.” Another beat. “Mum, Roger knows.” Your mum looked between your eyes as if waiting for you to say more so you added, “And he’s ‘in it for the long run’.”

It was like she had been holding her breath as you saw the relief wash over her. “That’s amazing.” She was trying hard to hide it but you could tell she was wondrously happy at the prospect of getting to discuss baby related things with Roger. 

A knock sounded at the door. Your mum was sat at the kitchen table, reading a book. She wasn’t expecting any visitors. She set down her book and took off her glasses, getting up and making her way to the foyer.

“Roger. Wasn’t expecting you.” She says when she opens the door. “Y/N not home right now. I can-”

“I actually came to see you.” He interrupted “I wanted to talk with you about something.” Your mum parted her lips before pressing them together and nodding, motioning Roger to come in.

They sat down across from each other the table. “What was it you wanted to talk about?” Your mum asks, eyeing Roger.

Roger clears his throat, wringing his hands together. He wasn’t usually this nervous around your mum was he was afraid to cross any boundaries. “Well, Ms. Y/L/N,”

“Call me Ellen.” Your mum interrupted.

“Um, Ellen. Do you guys have any plans if Y/N decides to keep the baby?” His voice is soft, words tentative as he speaks.

Ellen purses her lips. “Not really, no. She doesn’t really like talking about that with me.”

“With you?”

“I figured the two of you would have discussed it at some point.” Roger has thought the same thing. Figured it would be one of the first topics the two of you would cover but you hadn’t brought it up and he figured it’d be best to not pry.

Roger shakes his head, “She never brings up anything past the present really. She’ll allude to it but never actually say anything about it.” There’s a beat of silence where Ellen looks at Roger expectantly. He doesn’t know what she wants.

“So you came over here to tell me she didn’t have a plan? I already know that.” She didn’t mean to be curt but it was coming across that way.

“I didn’t mean to intrude, I just thought if she won’t talk about it we could.” He shrugged. “I don’t know get together some sort of plan so we’re not at our wits end trying to figure it out. We do go off to university once summer’s over.”

Ellen nods. “I know you’ve been picking up extra hours at work to compensate for doctors visits. I got a part-time job. Been saving that money. It’s not much but,”

“It’s appreciated.”

They work out a plan that lays out how they would cover costs, along with university. How they’d schedule their classes to make watching the baby easier and cheaper. If they had a class scheduled at the same time, Ellen would watch the kid.

Roger left feeling a little less stressed than when he arrived. At least he knew there was something in place and that you wouldn’t be going in blind to motherhood.

Although you had been doing research, crunching the numbers as your mum would say, and knowing it all was really stressing you out. Which is why you didn’t like to talk about it. Because if you started talking about it, you had to think about it and that gave you a stress headache and made the reality of the situation set it.

As you fell asleep Valentine’s day night, all the questions and worry that had been running through your head every night for the past four months were no longer there. Instead, you thought of Roger. 

Roger had his head on your shoulder and one hand on your stomach, a position reflective of the times when you’d watch movies together before you got pregnant. He’s always liked being close to you, just as much emotionally as physically. Of course you didn’t mind.

It had been almost month of this. Roger spending any free time he had with you. Which wasn’t a lot. He had gotten a job, unbeknownst to you, and you were always pressuring him to get his homework done so he would graduate on time. 

But when he wasn’t caught up in school or work or homework, he was at your house. Lying around, watching movies, and snuggling into your side.

Roger had become more involved in your life and you were happy he did. Happy he hand’t run off. Happy he decided to stay and help. Happy he didn’t abandon you in that park. In fact, he had been at every doctor’s appointment since he found out.

“You don’t have to come. I can handle myself, I promise.” You protested as Roger shuts his car door and starts the car.

“I’m perfectly aware of that, you’ve been doing this without me for four months. But I want to come, okay?” You weren’t about to argue with him, you just wanted him to know it was not necessary for him to go to the appointments with you.

They were just check-ups after all. All the fun stuff had either already happened or wouldn’t be happening for a few more months. But you did have to consider that he hadn’t heard the baby’s heartbeat, hadn’t been in the room for the ultrasound. You had deprived him of that.

So you let him accompany you. If he hadn’t been so eager, you would have been going alone today anyway. Your mum got caught up at work, where she was putting in extra hours to make sure there was enough funds to support your baby, if you decided to keep it.

The front desk people knew you, greeting you warmly as you walked in with Roger by your side. Not bothering to sign in because you know they already did it for you, you take a seat in the beaten down waiting room chair. Roger plays with your fingers as you wait.

When you hear you name being called you get up, walk the hallways like this was your home, and change into the hospital gown as if by habit. Roger watches you do all this, nerves radiating from his body as he bounces his leg up and down.

The doctor comes in and it’s hard to suppress the chuckle when Roger all but leaps from his seat. Without a greeting, Dr. Cash turns to Roger and smiles. “Looks like you finally told him,” he says to you. “You must be the father. I’m Dr. Cash.” Roger takes his outstretched hand and shakes it.

“Roger.” He says, his voice coming out a lot softer than you think he intended. “Nice to meet you.”

You smile as Dr. Cash turns his attention back to you. “And how are we feeling today Y/N?” He situates himself at your feet, preparing the ultrasound equipment.

“Great. Just hungry but what’s new there.” You laugh.

Roger is now standing by your side and you look over to him. His eyes are trained somewhere above the doctor’s head and his hands are fidgeting with the slightest shake. You reach out and lightly place your hand on his arm. He immediately looks down at you, shoulders relaxing at the soft smile on your lips. He takes your hand and moves an inch closer to you.

It was in that moment that your perspective changed. You weren’t just here for a check-up. This wasn’t your tenth, twelfth, fifteenth doctor’s visit in the past five months. You were back here for the first time, anxiously waiting beside your mum for the test results, hoping for an answer you weren’t quite sure of but being all together relieved it was positive.

You were right there with Roger, hearing the heartbeat for the first time again, seeing what your baby was growing into. They were getting so big, much bigger than last time. Your soft smile grew and Roger was holding your hand a bit tighter as the doctor adjusted to find the heartbeat.

The soft, pattering beat filled your ears and you felt a tingling sensation in your hands. “Is that-that’s their heartbeat?” Roger whispered, stumbling over his words. You looked up to see his eyes glossing over. You nod.

You can feel Roger’s lips tug into a smile when the baby kicks against his hand. He follows the feeling by tracing his finger across your belly in waves. You’re not even fully paying attention to him, more inraptured by the movie. This is normal for him.

Staying in, watching a movie with a giant bucket of popcorn that had chocolates in it was normal. Lying next to Roger was normal. Falling asleep next to Roger prompting him to soon pass out and unintentionally spend the night, something your mum was pretty pissed about the first time it happened marking the first time she had gotten angry at you since the pregnancy started, was normal.

You found bliss in the simple moments with Roger. It was perfectly domestic and you loved it. Loved him.

If this is how your life would pan out if you kept the kid… it was looking like a pretty good future to you. A future that you hadn’t started to plan for because the idea frightened you. But a future spent with Roger in any way, shape, or form sounded pretty damn amazing to you.

Your eyes started drifting close as the hours waned to night. Darkness fell unto your room and before you were aware, you had passed out. With Roger snuggled into your side, his head on your chest and hand on your stomach.

It was normal.

Taglist: @onceuponadetectivedemigod @anita-e-taylor @spookyfrances @isabella-bby @shae-is-not-ok @hystericalqueeen @fredthelegend @xilann @anamcg317 @magicwithaknife @wandering-unknown @softboytaylor @nothinreallymeddowstome @mrswinterhater @tenementcrazylittlefruitcake @queensinxs @12909168 @rxgertaylorscar

[softboyuris]

I doubt this’ll get much attention but would you guys like part three of We Will Always Have Us, a fluff piece, a more smutty piece, or the start of my “mini-series” about how Rog and reader met (based on Rough Night at the Rainbow Theatre)? I would be posting sometime tomorrow or the day next but would love feedback

[softboyuris]

I have not freaking posted wwahu since june 30 and I’m honestly sorry. Maybe I’ll try to be semi-productive and punch a chapter out but like no promises cause senioritis has consumed every inch of my life

[softboyuris]

hiya love, are you still updating ‘we will always have us’? it was such a great series and i loved reading it :)

I am I’m just taking a long ass time to update. Trying to find inspiration since we’re getting to the juicy stuff and I want it to be good. Butttt hopefully I’ll pop a few chapters out before school starts back up again!