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fairytales-of-yesterday · 4 years

Text

The Fantastic Drowse

Pairing: Roger Taylor x reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: nudity, it’s not smut though, illness (the flu), allusions to sex, it’s really really soft and cozy, my first use of the f word in a fic, mentions of stretch marks

A/N: Oh my god I’m soft. That’s it, I’m just insanely soft. This is for all of you that need a hug as much as I do. And who doesn’t love a good old-fashioned lover boy sick fic?

When you’d first started feeling bad, you hadn’t planned on telling anyone. You’d never liked asking for help, not wanting to inconvenience anyone. Although you did desperately want Roger with you, you’d gotten through countless colds when you were single, so you figured you’d get over it quickly and then laugh with friends about it later. Sadly, the universe had other plans, and by the fifth day of aches and shivers and sniffles, you were done. It really had started out fine, but after you got a bit too close to passing out just from trying to wash a few dishes, you knew you had to reach out.

It took you around ten minutes to convince yourself to pick up the phone and call your boyfriend. You had it all planned out, you were gonna tell him you weren’t feeling well and ask for help like an adult. The call had started with questions about recording and how the boys were, but Roger was quick to realize you sounded off.

“Darling, are you doing okay? You sound a bit… croaky.”

Hearing the twinge of concern in his voice, you bit your lip and lowered the phone a bit, covering up the receiver. You could lie. You could just tell him your allergies were acting up, that you’d eaten something spicy, that you’d been tidying up your flat and inhaled a bit of dust. However, as a chill passed through you, your bones aching at the slight movement, you knew you couldn’t. You cursed your body as you held the phone up to your face again.

“I…” you sighed, “I don’t feel great. When you finish recording, could you come over?”

“Oh, my love,” he cooed quietly, “absolutely, I’ll be over as soon as I possibly can. What’s wrong?”

“‘M just a bit under the weather, Rog, it’s okay, I’m alright.”

You knew your reassurances were hopeless as he began asking you when it started, if you’d been getting rest and eating well. You felt awful for phoning, for worrying him, but a warmth settled in your chest at his concern.

On the other end of the line, Roger stood in the corner of the studio, twisting the phone cord into knots similar to the ones in his stomach. The idea of you alone and feeling bad was not a happy one. He should be home. He was quiet for a moment, before sighing softly.

“I wish you’d told me sooner, dove, I’d’ve been over days ago.”

“Roger, I know you’ve gotta work, I wasn’t gonna take you away from the album.”

His frown, audible in his quiet hum of acknowledgement, mirrored the one you wore. What you really wanted to do was ask how much longer he’d be there, but you already felt bad enough for worrying him and asking him to come over, so you kept your mouth shut. The boys couldn’t just call it a week because you were ill.

He asked if you needed him to pick up any medicine for you on his way, and you politely declined, not wanting to bother him more than you already were. He sounded unconvinced, but didn’t press. He knew no matter what you said that he’d be making a few stops before he went over to your place. It was quiet for another moment or two before a shout from somewhere behind him told you it was time for him to get back. You held back a sad sigh.

“God, I’ve gotta get back to those mugs, but I promise I’ll be home as soon as I possibly can.” He forced a quiet laugh, pretending he wasn’t coming up with worst-case-scenarios at a mile a minute. You couldn’t be fooled though, and you immediately brightened your tone, hoping to convince him you were fine.

“No, no it’s okay! You tell them I say hello, and I love them!”

You could hear the gentle grin in his voice.

“Will do. Love you so much, and I’ll see you so soon.”

“I love you too, Rog,” you whispered, not wanting to hang up.

You said goodbye back and forth a few times, trying to delay it as long as you could, but eventually you heard another shout from Brian, and you knew you had to let him go.

As soon as the phone was back in its cradle, you wrapped yourself back up in your little cocoon, trying to stave off the shivers that had been plaguing you for the past few days. You turned the tv on and flipped to something mindless. Smiling softly to yourself at the idea of Roger coming home, your last thought before dozing off was if he’d be back in time for dinner.

“Fuck,” Roger swore loudly as he hit a cymbal offbeat for the fourth time. The others flinched at the sound, watching as he slammed his sticks down, and stood up abruptly. He’d been frustrated for the past few hours, and it was showing. He could hardly focus, his mind elsewhere, and his friends could tell. They were worried but afraid to ask, knowing any little thing could set him off. They knew it had started after you’d gotten off the phone, and didn’t want to pry with him this upset, but it was getting to be too much.

“Alright, Rog?” John was the first to speak up.

Roger’s head snapped towards the bassist, eyes wide, as if he hadn’t even realized he was causing a slight scene.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, sorry,” he sighed, trying to calm himself down. Brian gave him a look that said “bullshit,” and he looked away, frustrated, knowing he’d been caught. He just couldn't help it. His earlier goodbye had left a bad taste in his mouth. You were the only thing on his mind.

“C’mon, love, what’s up?” Freddie moved to Roger’s kit, coming around so he could clearly see the drummer unobscured by cymbals. Roger sat back down, propped his arms up on his knees, and rubbed his hands over his face. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry, not tonight. Sighing, he looked up at his friends.

“Y/N just called and said she’s feeling poorly. ‘M just worried is all.”

The boys’ faces softened a bit, now understanding his outburst. You and Roger had only been together for a few months, but they could see how absolutely taken he was with you. You’d become quite close to the whole band honestly. Roger was happier with you than he’d been with anyone in a long time, and the others adored you as well. They’d quickly started inviting you to hang out with them, sometimes even without Roger knowing. You had found a new best friend in each of them. John moved to stand beside Freddie and asked if you were alright.

“Hm? Oh, yeah she’s- I mean, she says she’s fine, told me to tell you lot she loves you.” The others smiled softly, each planning on calling and checking on you at some point in the coming days. Roger smiled to himself as well, stricken for a moment by just how much he loves you, before frowning again. “But she said she’s been ill for a week.” Roger paused to rub his eyes again. “And I didn’t even know.”

Deaky smiled sympathetically at his friend before glancing at Brian and Freddie, giving them a pointed look. They both nodded knowingly as Roger dropped his face back into his hands in thought.

“Plus,” Roger continued, muffled only slightly by his palms, “she hardly ever asks me for help or anything. ‘M just worried it’s bad.”

“Well, what are you still doing here then?” Freddie asked with a smirk.

“Trying to record an album,” Roger chuckled in exasperation, missing the point entirely, his mind still on you. “Emphasis on ‘trying.’ Feels like I’ve forgotten how to bloody play.”

The boys rolled their eyes, realizing he hadn’t understood what Freddie meant, and Brian came up, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Go home, you berk.”

Roger’s head shot up almost comically.

“Sorry?”

“Mate, you’re worried, we’ve all been there. We’ve made a lot of progress today, and I think we’re all ready for a little break.”

The blond smiled softly, still unsure if it was really okay for them to call it a day.

“Are you positive? If you let me go, I’m not sure you’ll ever get me back in here,” he chuckled, trying to mask his concern.

Freddie, John, and Brian each gave him a look that said “please just go home” and he laughed again, genuinely, shaking his head. As soon as he relented, the boys were basically ushering him out the door, giving him as many tips as they could think of while putting on their own jackets.

“You boys know I studied biology, right? I can take care of my sick girlfriend,” he chuckled as he pulled his coat on. Deaky grinned, trying to wrangle his scarf.

“Rog, just because you know how many bones there are in the body doesn’t mean you have any common sense whatsoever.”

“Oh piss off,” he sighed, trying to hide his grin. “God, you fuck up one hard boiled egg and you’re branded incompetent!”

When you woke later that evening, still cozied up on the couch, you hadn’t expected to see Roger sitting in the chair adjacent to you with his glasses on and a book in hand. But there he was.

His hair was backlit by a dim lamp, creating a golden halo around his soft features. You couldn’t help but smile at your handsome love. He looked about as cozy as you did, with a blanket draped over his shoulders and a cuppa beside him. He had changed since leaving the studio, not that you would have known, and instead of his usual flashy getup, he was wearing an old, seemingly loved jumper that made you want to curl up in his arms and never leave. Forehead creased in concentration, he absentmindedly played with his own hair as his eyes scanned the pages, still not used to how short it was after years of having it down past his shoulders. Every now and again you heard him make little noises of surprise or agreement at whatever story he was caught up in, and you smiled, endeared beyond belief. A few tears sprang to your eyes as the sheer relief of seeing him home settled in. You knew you had missed him, but having him here now… gosh. He was a sight for sore eyes.

Roger’s head shot up the second he heard you sniffle, his eyes meeting yours. He sheepishly ripped his glasses off his now red face, reflexively embarrassed to be seen with them, and moved from his seat to sit next to you.

“When,” you paused to clear your throat, “when did you get here?”

He smiled softly, brushing some hair out of your face as he responded.

“About an hour ago, I figured I’d let you sleep.”

You frowned as you rubbed your tired eyes. You hadn’t meant to sleep for so long. Before you could apologize though, he was tilting your chin up with his long fingers.

Your breath caught in your throat as he looked over you. You always felt breathless watching him focus on something, but it always took the cake when he was focused on you. His eyes swept over your face as you tried to keep your breathing steady, and he asked you a few questions, about your symptoms and when they started. You answered him as honestly as you could, a bit confused as to what he was doing and lost in his blue eyes.

After asking you what your last temperature was (and you shyly admitting you hadn’t taken it in a few days), he gave you a chaste kiss on the forehead and stood up. Muttering he’d be back in a moment, he went back in the direction of your bathroom. You remained on the couch, still a bit confused. He said he studied dentistry for a time, right? He wasn’t going to be a doctor? You could have sworn it was dentistry.

You didn’t have much time to keep wondering though, as he quickly made his way back to you, thermometer in hand.

“Alright, darling, open wide.”

You didn’t know if it was the soft way he said it, the words themselves, or both combined, but you couldn’t deny the way your knees went weak at his gentle command. You saw his eyes darken slightly at the way you immediately obeyed, opening your mouth and letting him put the thermometer in, but sadly, the moment passed the second you almost sneezed it across the room.

“Okay, let’s try that one more time, yeah?” He chuckled softly as you nodded, embarrassed.

This time when he put the thermometer in, he made sure to hold it there, his other hand gently cupping your face. You couldn’t help the blush that darkened your features at the intimacy of the action. He was so close. His eyes met yours, still dark, and you swallowed hard.

“Right I uh… I think it’s been three minutes,” Roger laughed hoarsely, as caught up in the moment as you were. Taking the thermometer from you, he looked at it once before huffing slightly and pulling his glasses back out. Your heart grew ten sizes as he slipped them onto his nose. Now able to see the small numbers, he frowned to himself.

“38.2. Do you feel warm, love?” He felt your forehead as you shook your head and pulled your blanket tighter around you.

His frown deepened slightly, but when he caught you looking at him worriedly, he was quick to reassure you.

“I think you’ve got a mild flu, love, nothing to worry about, I’ve got ya.”

You smiled gratefully and asked teasingly,

“What would I do without you, Dr. Taylor?”

The air shifted for a second, almost like you’d knocked the wind out of him. Now wasn’t the time to ask about it, but the way his eyes darkened at your words did not escape your notice.

Dr. Taylor, huh? You’d remember to ask him about that later.

Quickly though, he regained his composure, and smiled sweetly.

“Crash and burn, my love. Same thing I’d do without you.”

You grinned, but before you could respond, he was standing up. You scrambled to sit up all the way, not wanting him to leave you. He moved to take his glasses off, but you croaked out a soft protest.

“Wait!” He looked at you questioningly, freezing with his hand halfway to his face. “Keep them on?” You paused to sneeze. “Please? You look really lovely.” You couldn’t help the blush that overtook your cheeks, now embarrassed about your outburst, but it was nothing compared to the shade Roger’s face had become. He smiled bashfully, and held his hands up in mock surrender, and left his spectacles where they were. Your grin at his assent could’ve outshone the sun, and he mumbled a quiet thanks, love before he flashed you a kind smile, turned around, and disappeared into your tiny kitchen.

Adjusting the blanket around you once more, you listened to the sounds coming from the next room. There was a clattering of dishes as Roger did… whatever he was doing, and you smiled to yourself. You just hoped he didn’t break anything.

You didn’t have to wait long before he was coming back with two plates and two mugs precariously balanced in his arms.

“Rog, oh my god,” you croaked, moving to stand. His face reddened at your hoarse words, but he still shot you a look, maneuvering to sit next to you.

“If you get up and try to help me, I will genuinely shove you back down.”

You huffed a laugh, but stayed put. You did help him once he sat down, taking the mugs and your plate to let him get comfortable. He smiled gratefully, taking his mug back from you, and passed you some silverware he pulled from his pocket.

“Dinner is served, madame,” he gestured to your plate, speaking in what you hesitated to call a French accent. You giggled softly, bowing slightly in appreciation.

“Roger.. didn’t you take French?”

“I have an A level in it actually!” He nearly dropped his fork as he laughed. “Doesn’t mean I actually know anything about it.”

You stifled another giggle as you admitted he did have a point and turned your attention to your plate, starving after not eating all day. You paused though as you realized what he’d handed you.

“Wait… did you get takeout?”

He blushed a bit, putting his hand up for a minute as he finished a bite, and then nodded.

“I stopped by on the way home! Knew it was your favorite.”

Tears stung your eyes again, emotions running rampant due to your fever, and you took his free hand with one of yours. The second he noticed you were crying, his fork clattered to his plate.

“Woah, love,” he was quick to take your other hand as well, “are you okay? What’s wrong, dove?”

You tried to hide your face as you squeezed his hands reassuringly.

“Don’t look at me!” You laughed through sniffles, “I’m okay. I just… I missed you a lot.”

He laughed outright at that, a warm smile on his face, and leaned over to give you a quick kiss on your temple before digging back into his dinner.

“I missed you too, darling. More than you could imagine.”

Once the two of you were full, and once he’d coaxed you into eating just a few more bites, love, c’mon to make up for your lack of an appetite the past few days, you found yourself in his embrace. You lay down in his lap, and he soothingly ran his hands up and down your arms, telling you stories from the studio and watching as you struggled to keep your eyes open. The only indicators that you were still at least somewhat listening were your hums of acknowledgement and your occasional quiet laughter. You were in heaven, really. Your nap had actually been restful, you’d eaten your favorite food, and you had Roger. You couldn’t even dream of ever leaving his arms. Until he went to play with your hair.

You groaned weakly, trying to grab his wrists as he moved to massage your scalp. He looked down at you quizzically, immediately worried he’d done something wrong, but you quickly laced your fingers with his to let him know he was alright. “I haven’t showered in like three days,” you managed to chuckle sheepishly. His eyes softened, worry leaving his face, as you continued. “My hair feels gross right now.”

“Well guess what?” You cocked an eyebrow at him before he smiled playfully. “I don’t care.” Before you could protest again, he took his hands from yours, and he was running his fingers through your hair. You groaned again, this time in pleasure. Chuckling, he scratched your scalp gently and watched as you melted in his lap. You still clung to his wrists, but instead of stopping him, you pulled him closer.

“Y’know, darling,” he mused, trying to work out a knot, “I could wash your hair for you.”

Your eyes fluttered open at his proposition. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, laughing when you gave him a slight shove, and pressed on.

“I’m serious! I could wash your hair, give you a whole bath if you like! You’d feel so much better, little love.”

Your face reddened at one of your favorite terms of endearment, but his proposition definitely piqued your interest.

But god, he’s already done so much.

You snuggled deeper into his lap, pressing your face against his soft tummy, and mumbled something, but it was completely muffled by his warm jumper.

“What was that?” He couldn’t help but giggle as he felt you huff against him, your breath warming him through his shirt. You rolled over a bit so that you were looking up at him once more. You couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I don’t wanna be a bother.”

His expression softened, a sadness creeping over him. He untangled one of his hands from your hair to gently cup your chin and make you look at him.

“Love, you could never ever come close to being a bother.”

You blushed a bit, still nervous. You really didn’t want to be too much of a hassle. You had already taken him away from work and his friends, and he’d gone through the trouble of bringing you food. He’d already done more than you could have dreamed of.

He watched with a small smile as your eyes clouded over. All he wanted to do was help you, and he could tell that you loved being looked after. But, you were so hesitant to be any sort of burden, even though you couldn’t be if you tried. He just cared about you so much. He wanted to show you.

A soft tap on your cheek brought you back to reality. Roger’s voice was as gentle as could be.

“Do you trust me?”

You nodded, a few tears pricking your eyes.

“Then let me take care of you, sweetheart.”

Your vision blurred, and a lump formed in your throat as you nodded once more and whispered a quiet,

“Okay.”

Roger laughed softly as he scooped you up in his arms.

“You’re a soppy little thing when you’re ill, aren’t you?”

You hit his chest lightly in mock offense and smiled playfully.

“I’m this sentimental when I’m well, and you know it.”

He set you down when you got to the bathroom and started the water running before gently grabbing the hem of your shirt. He looked at you, the question in his eyes. Your gaze fell to his hands.

The two of you had only been dating for a few months. You’d kissed, you’d said your ‘I love yous,’ you’d gotten a bit hot and heavy, but you hadn’t gone all the way. You really thought the first time he saw you would be a bit nicer than this. Maybe with some lingerie or some slow music. You hadn’t planned on it being with you not having showered in days and unable to breathe through your nose. Even well you were insecure. It hit you now like a ton of bricks.

But then you looked up at him, into his kind eyes. He smiled at you softly, gently reminding you that you really didn’t have to go through with this if you weren’t comfortable. He could always turn around until you were in the tub, or he could carry you back to the couch and watch a nice movie with you. But you were positive. Taking a deep breath, you gave him the go-ahead. His eyes softened.

“You sure? Really, it’s okay if you’re not up for this.”

You nodded once more. You trusted him.

“Alright, arms up then, sweetheart,” he murmured softly, a warm smile on his face. His fingertips tickled your sides as he lifted your t-shirt up and over your head. You giggled quietly, trying to squirm away from him, and he laughed brightly. “There’s my girl,” he grinned, tossing your shirt into the hamper and giving you a kiss on the forehead. You smiled, turning a bit red as you crossed your arms over your chest and watched as he kneeled to help with your pajama pants.

He untied the little ribbon at your waist, looking up at you once more to make sure this was okay. Swallowing thickly, you nodded again, and he began to shimmy your pants down.

“Just hold onto my shoulders, sweet thing, I’ve got you.”

Had you been any stronger, you might have refused, still nervous to reveal yourself to him. But you knew your sense of balance wasn't to be trusted. Timidly, you uncrossed your arms and grabbed his shoulders. Your legs wobbled a bit as you stepped out of your pants, but Roger held you steady. After a few deep breaths, he did the same with your underwear. He couldn’t help but stare as you blushed down to your tummy, looking at the ceiling to avoid his eyes.

With your gaze averted, you missed his reaction, but Roger was stunned. As he looked up at you from where he kneeled on the floor, he couldn’t help but moan softly simply at the sight of you. Your warmth, your gorgeous curves, all your little freckles and stretch marks. He wanted to kiss you all over, every little mark a target for his lips. His eyes roamed over your soft figure, tinged pink with your bashfulness, and he felt his heart flutter. You trusted him with all of you, you were willing to expose yourself to him, even now when you felt infinitely more vulnerable and insecure than normal. You were letting him take care of you. Your grip on his shoulders tightened slightly, briefly, as if to check if he was alright. As if to ask if he thought you were alright. Christ. He was in love.

Humming quietly and beaming, he moved forward slightly to press a gentle kiss right below your belly button. You gasped slightly at the touch, finally making eye contact with him as he leaned his chin against your soft tummy, hands still resting on your hips.

“You’re gorgeous, y’know that? Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your blush deepened, and you smiled softly, not knowing what to say. Normally, you would redirect the comment or simply deny it, but when you saw his starry eyes, when you saw how genuinely in awe he was, you couldn’t. You settled on a bashful thank you, and he squeezed your sides in response as he stood back up. You couldn’t help but squeal quietly in surprise, and his tiny smirk made your knees weaken, but you saw the gentleness in his eyes and knew it was a gesture of comfort.

“Alright, love, now you just give me your hands, and I’ll help you in, okay?”

You smiled, nodded, and did as you were told. Roger’s hands enveloped yours as he held them a bit over your head and helped you step carefully into the tub. You sighed immediately, the warm water feeling like heaven on earth. You couldn’t help the small moan that escaped you as you sunk down and settled in. Roger smiled softly, watching the bubbles surround you. Your smile was the best thing he’d seen all week, and as he sat down on the edge of the tub beside you, he realized that he never felt more at home than by your side.

Once more, Roger moved to take his glasses off, and once more, you whined in protest. However, this time, he was not to be swayed.

“I don’t wanna get them all soapy, love,” he chuckled quietly as he placed them carefully on the little shelf on the opposite wall. You pouted playfully, and he laughed loudly. “I promise they’ll make an appearance some other time. You can hold me to that.”

You sighed in faux defeat and hung your head low, trying to evoke some sort of pity from your boyfriend. All you drew out of him was a bright grin, but you couldn’t complain, and you were quickly smiling back.

Roger’s already dopey smile widened as your hand popped out from amongst the suds and took his. Another laugh escaped him before he planted a soapy kiss on your palm, knowing he’d get to hear your lovely, albeit slightly congested, giggle again. And sure enough, your raspy laugh immediately rang through the bathroom. His heart fluttered at the sound, and he gave you a wet kiss on the forehead as he went back to the sitting room to grab a pillow.

Upon his return, he threw the cushion on the floor beside the tub and proceeded to kneel on it. Your brows knit in concern.

“Won’t,” you paused to cough slightly, sending bubbles in every direction, “won’t your knees get sore?”

He smiled softly, shaking his head in reassurance. “I’ll be fine, lovely, you just direct me to your favorite shampoo.”

With another giggle, you pointed to a bottle, and with a salute, he took it. Before going any further though, he pulled his jumper and undershirt off and tossed them out the bathroom door into your hallway. He saw the way your eyes darkened at his bare chest and tried to cover up his pink cheeks with an eye roll.

“Alright, easy tiger, I just don’t want my clothes all wet, yeah? Plus, now we’re a bit more even!”

You smiled sheepishly and raised your hands in mock offense, flinging some bubbles out of the tub once more, but you just couldn’t look away. You nearly had to bite back a groan. His soft middle was definitely the eighth wonder of the world. You’d seen him shirtless a few times now, privately at least, but he always took your breath away. When you met him, so long ago, you’d expected him to be a twig of a man—the typical toned rockstar. But the first time you saw him drum with his shirt off at a concert, with his soft hips and pudgy chest on display, you were left completely speechless. Obviously he had muscles, he had a strength that was evident in every beat of his drum, but there was a softness about him that made you melt, and looking at him now reaffirmed every one of those feelings. your eyes trailed down his frame, and you felt a heat rising to your cheeks. The way his little tummy poked over his jeans - it made you downright feral.

Roger chuckled bashfully once more as he watched your eyes slowly move down his body, and he tried to appear composed as he squeezed a sizable amount of shampoo onto his palm. He gently directed you to sit up a bit, and you complied, giving him access to your hair.

The second his hands were on you, you let out a low, rumbly groan. He massaged the shampoo in gently, smiling as he felt you lean into his touch.

“That’s right,” he murmured, “just relax those muscles for me.”

Moans and quiet whines spilled from your mouth as you fought tears from spilling from your eyes. You were absolutely lost in how good it felt to be touched. You pushed against his hands, urging him to never ever stop please, and you had to suppress a sob when he eventually pulled away.

He chuckled quietly and helped you sit up a bit before grabbing the cup you kept on the edge of the tub. He softly instructed you to tilt your head back slightly, and with one hand at your hairline to keep the water from running into your eyes, he rinsed your shampoo out.

You smiled, blissed out, as the warm water ran down your back. Roger watched amusedly as you swayed slightly, doing your best to stay upright. His warm hands kept you steady though, and eventually your hair was soap free. Leaning back again, you looked up at your boyfriend with a sleepy smile as he found your body wash. He held it up for you to see.

“‘S this alright?”

You nodded, a bit more awake now at the prospect of his hands all over you. Once he’d lathered it up nicely, he beckoned you forward, and after a brief moment of apprehension, you complied. Your hesitation did not go unnoticed however, and he was quick to sit back a bit.

“Hey,” his voice was quiet and gentle, “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, love. You can get out and dry off now, and we can just watch something on the telly.”

You were quick to shake your head.

“No!! No no ‘s okay! I’m just… nervous is all. I’m okay.”

“Nervous?”

You hoped he’d attribute your red color to the heat of the water.

“You’ve… we’ve never…” you paused to collect yourself, “You’ve felt me up through my clothes before, but not… without them, y’know? And it’s not that I don’t trust you!! It’s just new. I trust you, but it’s new.” Roger opened his mouth to respond, but you continued. “And I know you’ve already seen me, so it feels even sillier to worry, but what if... what if you don’t like the way I feel? Like it’s not what you expected or... or I don’t even know. The point is, it’s okay, I just worry a lot.”

His face softened as your words registered properly. You seemed to have taken quite an interest in the bubbles floating around your belly. He ducked down a bit, getting level with you so you’d meet his eyes.

“I know this isn’t quite how we planned things,” he said as you huffed a quiet laugh, “I’d honestly hoped to do something a bit more romantic, but I really will take any chance I get to look after you, love. You’ve got nothing to worry about either! You’re bloody gorgeous, like, I mean, fuck, and I really am very excited to touch you. I have no doubt,” he paused as you raised your eyebrows at him, blushing, “no doubt you will feel fantastic.”

You moved to shush him, still trying to stifle a giggle, but he wouldn’t let you.

“Even ill and scruffy and covered in vanilla soap. You’re perfect, Y/N, I’m serious.” He paused a moment, thinking, before adding, “Well, the vanilla is very nice, but you still get my meaning.”

You couldn’t help but really laugh at that, and you leaned your head on the side of the tub to look up at your boyfriend. He smiled down at you, a faint blush on his cheeks, and leaned over to kiss your forehead.

“I really promise, love. I firmly believe you hung the moon, and there’s not much you could do to change my mind.”

Your smile mirrored his as he grabbed the body wash and gently brought you towards him. Any and all of your worries washed away with the last few days the second his hands were on you.

He washed your arms first, running his warm hands over your smooth skin and whispering sweet things. His touch was firm but gentle, only barely keeping you grounded in reality. You couldn’t help the small whines that fell from your lips. It just felt so good.

You didn’t think anything could feel better than Roger massaging your tender arm muscles, but that was nothing compared to the feeling of him gently lathering your breasts and tummy with soap. His touch had been overwhelmingly heavenly all evening, but this was the icing on the cake. His big hands kneaded your breasts gently, and he laughed softly in delight as your lewd moans filled the bathroom. His touch was cool on your feverish chest, and you found yourself relaxing like never before. He moved so that his hands were on your soft hips, and after giving them a squeeze, he began massaging up and down your sides. You giggled softly at the ticklish sensation, and he grinned.

“There’s my girl, that feels good, yeah?”

All you could do was whimper in response, a dopey grin on your face. Roger continued his gentle massage and watched your euphoric expression fondly.

“Mm…” he smirked softly, “I could say the same.”

He couldn’t lie, it was great to touch you, fantastic even. You were just as soft and grabbable as you looked, and he really... god he could spend the rest of his life doing this. But really nothing compared to the knowledge that he was making you feel better. He still felt awful for not having been with you until today, but he was over the moon that he was a comfort.

Truth be told, when the boys had started giving him tips, he had worried that he wasn’t prepared to take care of you. The others had been genuinely trying to help, but they had mostly just succeeded in making him worry. Most of their suggestions were things he hadn’t even thought of. But the second he walked in your door and saw you asleep on the couch, he knew he would be just fine.

After helping you wash away the layer of bubbles coating your torso, Roger pulled the drain and helped you stand. He pressed a quick, fond kiss to your forehead before turning around and grabbing a towel for you. Draping it over his shoulder, he took your hands once more and helped you from the tub. You stood still for him as he dried you off as much as he could, and then you were gingerly wrapped up and led to your bedroom.

You sat on your bed, watching as your boyfriend, still shirtless, rummaged through your drawers to find some suitable pjs. He tossed some underwear at you first, and you pulled them on as you asked if he wanted some help.

“No!! No, no don’t tell me, I’ll find them.”

You sat down on your bed, covering yourself with your arms, and rolled your eyes fondly at his boyish delight. He went through your dresser like a hurricane, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his triumphant aha ha!! when he found the right drawer. He combed through your clothes for a minute or so before something caught his eye.

“Hang on...” Roger cocked his head to the side as he pulled out a large, soft shirt from one of Queen’s earliest tours. “Is this mine?” He peered back at you over his shoulder and laughed as you nodded, embarrassed. It wasn’t your fault, he’d let you wear it one night at his place after the two of you had gotten swept up in a rainstorm, and you’d just worn it home the next morning.

“You can have it back, I keep forgetting to tell you I have it.”

“And miss seeing you wear it again? Yeah, as if.”

You scoffed, but he could see you were blushing and considered that a victory.

“It’s comfy,” you mumbled, not meeting his eyes. “And it smells like you.”

His expression softened, going from teasing to flustered in two seconds flat.

“Well then,” he beamed, pulling out some soft pajama bottoms and moving back to you, “you can definitely keep it.” Your heart fluttered at his sweet grin and his pink cheeks. You loved making him blush, knowing that it was usually the other way around. His smile widened at your soft expression, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Alright, come on, silly thing, you know the drill. Arms up!”

You blushed, uncovering yourself and lifting your arms. Roger’s adoring smirk at seeing your breasts once more did not escape your notice, but you just shut your eyes, too flustered to say anything. You felt him pull your shirt down over your arms, and once your head was out, you pulled the rest of it down yourself.

“Y’know I could do this on my own,” you smiled as he crouched to help with your pants. He looked up at you in mock offense, putting a hand over his chest.

“As if I’d let you,” he scoffed, pressing a kiss to your knee before pulling your bottoms over it. He helped you stand, so he could pull them up the rest of the way, and then sat you back down, grabbing your towel. You expected him to take it back to the bathroom, but he surprised you, settling down with you on the bed. You were about to ask what he was doing when he pulled you into his lap and began gently towel drying your hair.

You melted in an instant, sighing happily as Roger methodically went from the roots to the tips, getting all the water out. You moaned a little, leaning into his hands as he massaged your scalp, and you felt tears prick your eyes at the sheer intimacy of the action and the affection in his touch. He was humming softly as he went, a tune you recognized but couldn’t place. You found yourself having trouble staying upright, his soft voice lulling you to sleep almost instantly. It was after he steadied you for the third time that he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Doing alright, darling?”

You hummed softly, a sleepy smile gracing your features, and Roger chuckled, putting the towel aside and pulling you close.

“Getting a bit tired?”

You nuzzled your face into his neck, nodding ever so slightly, and he wrapped his arms around you. He still hadn’t put his shirt back on, and his shoulder was cool and comfortable against your still-feverish skin. He rubbed your back sweetly, letting you drape yourself over him, and heard you mumble something into his shoulder.

“What was that?”

You giggled sleepily and turned your head so you weren’t muffled.

“Been tired all week.”

He chuckled softly, murmuring a quiet I know, dove, and kissed your temple. His grin widened even more as you snuggled further into him, as if you wanted to somehow get even closer, and he gave you a gentle squeeze. Your sigh of relief was music to his ears.

“Ready for bed, little love?”

Your answer came as a little hum from where you were snuggled against him. The vibration tickled his sweet spot slightly, and he giggled, reflexively tilting his head as if to cut off access to his neck, but all he succeeded in doing was leaning his head on yours. He felt you smile, and another laugh rose up in his chest.

“I’m guessing that was a ‘yes.’”

You lifted your head up, a dorky smile gracing your features as you spoke to an imaginary audience.

“Wow, show the man what he’s won.”

He laughed again, squeezing you tight.

“Cheeky.”

Smiling still, he helped you off his lap and lifted your covers, so you could crawl under them. After pulling your comforter up to your chin and making a big show of tucking you in, he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and started to walk away. You caught his wrist.

“Stay. Please,” you whimpered. You’d missed him so much.

“No, hey, it’s okay, love,” he chuckled softly, moving closer once more, “I’m just grabbing my shirt! I’m not leaving you.”

Your cheeks reddened at his reassurance, embarrassed that you automatically assumed he would leave you. Mumbling an apology, you buried yourself in the covers once more, barely peeking up at him as he looked on, absolutely endeared.

“‘S perfectly alright,” he grinned, kissing your forehead, “just wanted to make sure you knew. I’m not planning on leaving until you’re well, darling.”

You smiled bashfully but opened your mouth to protest, to tell him that you weren’t gonna hold him hostage, but he was already out the door.

When Roger returned, though only a few minutes had passed, you were nearly asleep. You fought to keep your eyes open, sleepily grinning at him as he moved about your room quietly, turning your lights off and drawing the curtains. He hadn’t gotten his shirt as he said he would, and your brows furrowed slightly.

“Where’s… where’s your shirt?”

He huffed a quiet laugh as you realized he wasn’t wearing his jeans anymore either, and you grew even more confused. He began climbing in bed beside you.

“Put it in the wash, along with my trousers,” he pulled the covers up around him, “which I’m sure you noticed.”

A small blush rose to your face, but he wasn’t wrong, and he laughed as he pulled you in, so you were once again snuggled into his bare chest. He heard you sigh contentedly and rested his chin on the top of your head, grinning. His hand moved lazily up and down your back as you relaxed in his arms, clinging to him like your life depended on it. The quiet ticking of the clock on your wall was almost hypnotic, lulling Roger to sleep almost immediately. His heart had a similar effect on you, the sound of it beating enveloping you. Your ear pressed against his chest, your body moving along with his breathing.

Roger was almost completely out when he heard, or rather felt, you murmur something against his bare skin.

“Hm?” He cleared his throat. “What’d you say?”

He moved to where your face wasn’t pressed into him, laughing softly at how this seemed to be a common theme tonight, and propped himself up on his elbow. He looked down at you fondly, his sleepy love. You smiled, eyes opening slowly.

“Thank you,” you sounded far away, already halfway dreaming, “for… for looking after me.”

Roger’s heart fluttered, and he felt a breathless laugh bubble up in his stomach.

“God… you precious thing,” he brushed some hair out of your face, softening even further somehow, “‘was my pleasure. Love lookin’ after you, you know that.”

Your sleepy giggle made Roger’s heart do somersaults, cartwheels, a whole gymnastics routine.

“Yeah, I know.”

It was silent for a few moments as you gazed at each other, taking in your favorite sights. The slope of his sweet nose, the way you seemed to glow in the moonlight that barely shone through your sheer bedroom curtains, his incredible eyelashes, the freckles that dotted your nose and around your eyes, the way his smile could brighten even your dark bedroom. You heard him sigh quietly, still smiling, before he leaned down and kissed your forehead then the tip of your nose.

“Come on, love. Let’s get some rest now, yeah?”

You nodded, eyes half closed, and Roger hummed, continuing down your face, kissing you on each cheek, and then your chin. A sleepy giggle escaped you as you felt his lips trail down your neck, tickling you slightly. You murmured his name, your eyes falling shut, and you felt him smile against your skin. Your head involuntarily tilted back, pressing against the pillow to allow him more room to work. Chaste kisses fluttered over your collarbones as he worked his way down your body, and you squirmed slightly at the heavenly feeling, hoarsely and sleepily moaning his name once more.

“Hey, hey,” he hushed you quietly, moving back up and cupping your cheek with one hand as he kept himself propped up with the other. “You’re okay, love, I’ve got you. Sleep, angel, sleep for me.”

All you could do was whine as he continued, pulling your shirt up slightly so he could pepper your tummy with light kisses. His hands held onto your soft hips, his thumbs rubbing small circles into your sides.

“C’mon, honey, relax,” he murmured, his warm breath fanning out over your exposed skin. You took a deep, albeit shaky breath and finally let yourself melt into his touch. He smiled against your hip bone, giving your sides another gentle squeeze. “That’s it,” he whispered, “there’s my sweet girl.”

As Roger kissed his way back up one of your arms, you felt yourself begin to drop off, his soft pecks and sweet touches sending you to sleep in record time. Your last thought before falling completely came in the form of a slurred mumble.

“L...love you.”

Roger smiled softly as he pressed his lips to the soft skin on the inside of your elbow. He looked up at you, to meet your eyes, but you were out.

With a quiet chuckle, he moved back up next to you and pulled you into his arms. Almost instinctively, you cuddled into his chest, getting as close as you could, even in your sleep. Learning down and pressing a kiss into your hair, he sighed softly.

“I love you too, baby.”

He felt you relax even further into him as a small, happy sigh escaped you, and his eyes began to fall shut. He tried to stay awake for just a few moments longer, just so he could stay in this moment for a few seconds more, so he could stay with you.

He watched in sleepy awe as you snored softly, already out cold. Your chest rose and fell with each breath, pressing against him with every inhale and drawing back with each exhale. In his exhaustion, he found himself smiling every time your breath forced you up against him and missing your touch whenever your exhalation pulled you away ever so slightly. Your arms remained tight around him, making sure he stayed put, as if he had any other plans. Gently running his fingers through your still-damp hair, he felt his heart flutter.

“Can’t believe you’re mine.”

With a final featherlight kiss to your forehead, he let his eyes shut. He slowly ran his thumb up and down your arm, smiling slightly just at how soft you are. How perfect you are to him. He let your warm embrace, along with your soft, congested snores, pull him gently to sleep, just as his kisses had done to you, and as he slowly fell, his last thoughts were of how wonderful it was going to be to wake up with you in the morning.

#oh my god I did it #ohhhh my god I did it #anyway this is my magnum opus and I'm really soft #I just like roger a lot #I hope you like it :D #I hope I wrote roger well #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #queen #queen fic #literally what all am I supposed to tag this #roger taylor #lmk what y'all think about this!! I love hearing from you :D #rowan if u see this i love you #ur asleep rn but when you wake up!!!! I love you #enjoy my magnificent octopus

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jon-daddy-dominus · 3 years

Text

Kitten's Collar

Chapter, 32

"Where'd you get that?" Ginger asked, as Alexis stepped over to beverage station to put on a pot of coffee.

"Huh?" Alexis replied, not hearing her question in her early morning haze.

Looking at her, like she didn't believe Alexis couldn't hear her. "Your necklace?"

"Oh." She grinned happily. "Da... Clint gave it to me."

"Mhmm... Clint, huh? Kinda sounded like you were about to say Daniel, or Dave, or something. You sure his name's Clint?"

"Yeah I'm sure!" She giggled.

"Sure didn't sound like it." Ginger quipped, reaching out, and lifting Alexis's charm up to read it. "Kitten? That's supposed to be you?"

Alexis just gave her a giddy smile, and nodded emphatically.

"Why, Kitten?" Ginger asked, looking at her strangely.

"It's what he calls me." She continued smiling.

"So, what'dya call him? Puppy?" She laughed sarcastically.

Alexis just laughed out loud, and turned back to finish what she was doing.

"Alexis..." Ginger grinned curiously. "I'mma be nosey, now. What do you call him?"

Still facing the wall, and pouring water in the coffee maker, Alexis smiled a huge smile to herself. "Daddy!"

"Shut your mouth! No you don't." Ginger grinned excitedly. "Oooh... girl you bad!"

"Only when I want a spanking!" She giggled.

"Na ah... You let that man spank you?"

Spinning around on her heels, she grinned. "Let him? Girl... that shit is so hot, I basically BEG him to do it!"

Gingers mouth dropped all the way open. "ALEXIS!"

"What?" She smiled a naughty smile.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, lately?" Ginger gasped, shaking her head.

"All that good D, and that magical tongue of his!" She laughed hysterically.

"ALEXIS! Girl, you know, you need to stop!" Ginger laughed, as she began roiling the silverware in napkins.

"Good morning. What are we laughing about so much? I could hear you two, all the way at the back door." Matt asked, walking over to the computer, to sign in.

"You don't even wanna know." Ginger replied.

"Probably not." Matt said, shaking his head, and finishing up in the computer. "I'll leave you two, to your soap opera. I'll be in my office if you need anything."

"Okay." Alexis answered, cheerfully.

"What's got you so happy? You've been alot less bitchy lately." Matt joked.

"You don't want her to answer that!" Ginger laughed, as Alexis turned toward Matt grinning.

Before she could say anything, Matt snapped. "On second thought, I don't wanna know. So just, keep it to yourself. I'll be in my office."

A few hours passed and it was getting closer to lunch, when her phone pinged.

*** Hey gorgeous! I just wanted to let you know, that I got the crews straight, and I'm otw to the hospital to visit Dale, and give him an update on how everything is going. So since I'm gonna be in the area, I was thinking I might stop by, and have lunch with you, but I probably won't make it there until around 1-1:30.***

*** That's perfect! I was about to take lunch now, but the lunch rush should be over by then, so I can just switch with Ginger and let her take her lunch now if she doesn't mind.***

***Ok Kitten. Just lmk***

"Ginger, you mind switching with me, and taking your lunch before twelve?"

"No, that's fine. I'm hungry anyway, so I'll go ahead and take mine now." Ginger replied.

"Okay, thanks." Alexis smiled.

Grinning, and making air quotes with her fingers, ginger asked. "Oh... is "Daddy" meeting "Kitten" for lunch?"

Making her eyes big, Alexis laughed, using just her middle fingers to make air quotes, while jokingly flipping her off. "Yes!"

"Do I wanna know why Alexis is shooting you the bird?" Matt asked, walking passed them to the register.

"Nope." Alexis laughed.

"Didn't think so... Carry on, I guess." He said shaking his head, and walking back to his office.

*** Ginger said yeah so we're good! 😊 see you when you get here sexy😍***

***Okay, Kitten. 😊***

The restaurant was crowded, but starting to die down a little. Ginger, and Alexis were back, and forth between the tables, and register when Clint walked in.

Alexis was cashing out an order, when Ginger stopped next to her. "Damn... You see that tall glass of sexy that just came in?"

"Mhmm..." She smiled. "I spotted him, when he was walkin up."

"Ugh... look at all that salt, and pepper in his beard. God that's sexy!" Ginger whispered.

"Mhmm, I'd let him do all kinds of nasty things to me!" Alexis giggled.

"Girl, that ain't no little boy, that's a MAN. He's too old for your little ass."

Alexis just giggled to herself as Clint walked over, and sat at a table in the corner.

Ginger hurried to his table, and smiled a big smile. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Sweet tea, please."

"Alright, I'll have that right over."

"Thank you, Ma'm."

Stepping up to the beverage station, Ginger whispered. "Oh my goodness, girl, that man is lust in a bucket! He smells so good... and that gravely voice? Uhh... don't even get me started! Let me get him tea!"

"Here you go!" Ginger smiled.

"Thank you, Ma'm."

"Do you know what you want to eat, or do you need a minute?" She smiled, flirtatiously.

Stepping up beside her, Alexis mumbled, with a seductive grin. "I know what he wants to eat, but he can't do that here, without getting arrested!"

Gingers mouth dropped open, and her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, in shock.

"Behave yourself, young lady." Clint growled sternly.

"I'm sorry. I'll be good." She continued grinning.

"This is Clint?" Ginger snapped, still a little surprised.

"Yes, Ma'm. I'm Clint, it's nice to meet you." He said, sticking out his hand.

Shaking Clints hand, Ginger replied, "Nice to meet you too." before turning to Alexis, and mumbling as she walked away. "Lucky you... good Lord have mercy."

Alexis sat down next to him, and leaned in for a kiss.

Giving her a soft, sweet kiss hello, Clint asked. "What was all that about?"

"Just marking my territory." She grinned.

"Is that so?" He laughed.

"What you want to eat, honey? I'll put our order in."

"You." He smiled, deviously.

"I kinda figured that, but like I said, you can't do that here without getting arrested. So you're going to have to order something that's actually ON the menu!" She smiled.

"What's that?" He said, looking down at the bench. "Lean up a second."

When Alexis leaned forward, he looked around for a second, then dropped the menu behind her, as she sat back down. "Look, you're on the menu... can I eat you now?"

Pulling the menu free, she grinned, shaking her head. "You so stupid!"

"Because you make me that way." He grinned.

"What'dya want to eat, ya dirty old man?" She smiled. "And, no, you can't eat me! At least, not right now." She laughed.

"Well, that's disappointing." He smiled. "I guess I'll have a turkey club, with home fries, then."

"Okay, I'll be right back."

As Alexis put their order into the computer, Ginger paused next to her for a moment. "That's the guy you've been seeing?"

"Yep." She grinned.

"Well... I still think he's a little old for you, but damn... You go girl!" She laughed, as she walked away. "We'll talk later!"

Alexis smiled, shaking her head, and went back to the table.

"So, how's your day been so far?" Clint asked.

"Not, too bad. We've been steady, but not overly busy. Tips could be better, though." She chuckled.

"No, big spenders today?"

"Ha! Not really, but at least I didn't get screwed as bad as Ginger. She had a table of eleven, this morning, and they gave her ten dollars, on a hundred and forty dollar bill. She was pissed!"

"Of coarse she was! That's ridiculous." He grumbled. "Ain't this her table?"

"Yeah, but I'll get ours."

"No, let her get it, so I can leave her a tip."

"Or... You could just give it to me!" She laughed.

"Or, you could do as you're told, and I'll tip you later."

Alexis put on her pouty face. "Yes Sir." Then burst into a big grin. "But instead of just the tip, can I have the whole thing?"

"You're being bad, Kitten."

She cut her eyes at him, and then rolled them away looking the other direction, grinning. "Maybe I need spanking to straighten out my attitude?"

"Buttons Alexis." He stated sternly.

Leaning in, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, grinning and whispering in a sing-song voice. "I like to push them!"

Smiling, he closed his eyes, and rested his head on hers. "I'm so happy you're mine."

"Awe... Honey. I'm so happy I'm yours, too!" She said softly, nuzzling her head into his neck.

"Okay, love birds! Who had the club?" Ginger asked.

"That's his." Alexis replied, taking the plate, and sliding it over to Clint.

"Thank you, Ms. Ginger." He smiled.

"You are very welcome. I hope you enjoy it."

The two said their blessing, and made small talk, as they ate their meal.

As they were finishing up, three guys, in suits, about Alexis's age came in, and sat down a few tables behind Alexis.

Ginger came over, and asked. "Hun, I don't mean to rush you, but is there anyway you can grab the table that just sat down? I'm catching hell with the old ladies on the other side, right now."

"Yeah, sure I'll get them." Alexis replied, giving Clint a quick kiss, and getting up from the booth.

She stepped behind the counter, and washed her hands, before heading over to get the guys drink order.

Clint watched silently, as one of the guys nudged the one next to him, to bring his attention to Alexis coming to their table.

"Hey, good lookin. How are you today?" The guy who got nudged said.

"I'm Alexis. I'm good, what can I get y'all to drink?" She replied, with a fake smile.

"Uh... just water." Said the guy with his back to Clint.

"I'm Steve." Said the guy who got nudged.

"Nice to meet you Steve. What can I get you to drink today?" She said, still smiling.

"Let me get a coke." Steve answered.

"Is Pepsi, okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, that's fine."

"And what can I get you?" She asked, looking at the guy who noticed her first.

"I'll have Pepsi too, please."

"Alrighty." She smiled. "Here's some menus, and I'll get those drink orders in for y'all."

"Alexis." Steve called.

"I'm sorry, did you need something else?" She asked, politely.

"Yeah, what's the special today?"

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