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illfoandillfie · 5 months

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Late 80s Roger x Reader making love (a bit kinky if you want, anything really, just something sexy and cute) and having to keep it quiet bc of their kids.

Blurb Advent 2023: Day 7

Ahhh thanks anon this is a great prompt! Hope you like it for day 7 of the advent calendar!

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), implied p in v sex, implied unprotected sex

Neither your or Roger had ever been anniversary people. You had friends who were. They made big deals celebrating it at expensive restaurants or big parties and got each other gifts corresponding to how many years they’d been together. But neither of you had ever been like that. It wasn’t that you didn’t care or didn’t want to acknowledge the date, you just didn’t need to make a fuss. You kept things low key. Half the time Roger was away on tour anyway so there was no point making a big deal of it. It’d just lead to both of you feeling bad you couldn’t celebrate it together. When he was in town you might have dinner out or buy a bottle of champagne to accompany whatever you ate at home. Or sometimes you just counted it as celebrated if you got to have sex. Especially since the kids had come along. You used to try to make the sex different to normal in some way – a position you’d read about and wanted to try, and act normally reserved for special occasions – but you hadn’t even bothered with that recently.

Admittedly, it was easier to have some alone time now they were all a little older, but still, three kids under the age of seven did not an especially active sex life make. Mostly it happened very late at night, right before you went to sleep. You were almost counting the days until your youngest would be at pre-school so you could manage a day at home with Roger, even if you had to take sick leave to do it. The kids were all generally sleeping through the night, but you did still have to contend with them sometimes stumbling into your room after a bad dream or a wet bed. More than once they’d managed to interrupt you at inopportune moments. So, when you realised your anniversary was coming up, you decided your present to both Roger and yourself should be a decent shag. One where you could actually finish without stopping first. Where you wouldn’t have to throw a robe on and show your daughter there was no monster in her closet and then stay with her till she fell asleep while Roger’s hardon deflated back in your room. Of course, Roger was in very strong agreement when you mentioned your idea, and during the lead up made sure you knew how much he wanted it with little squeezes and comments that made you blush muttered quietly to you while the kids were distracted. Which just made you more determined to have a good night. You considered palming the kids off their grandparents for the night but your parents weren’t free and Roger’s lived just a little far away for it to be worth the trouble. But hiring a babysitter would mean also getting a hotel room and eventually you agreed to make it work at home, you’d just make sure not to get too loud.

The key, Roger confidently assured you, was making sure all three kids were completely worn out before you tucked them in. Bad dreams were the biggest risk but there wasn’t a whole lot you could do to prevent that. You just made sure the night light in the girls’ room was working and hoped it would be enough. But Roger took charge of exhausting the three of them – instigating tickle wars, playing whatever silly games they came up with, and then, when he wanted to sit down, coming up with objects for them to search the house for like some sort of scavenger hunt. When they were all looking sleepy you herded them off to do their teeth and get them settled. Roger read to the younger two in their shared room while you got the eldest settled with a warm milk that sent him to sleep quick. You hurried back to your room and stripped down to your knickers to save some time, settling on the bed, impatiently waiting for Rog. Almost absentmindedly you began touching yourself through your panties, but you figured things would go a lot smoother if you were even just a little bit ready by the time Roger was finished with the girls.

He entered about 10 minutes later, pulling his fly down as he walked, pausing only to drag a chair under the doorknob just in case. If one of the kids did try to come in you’d get up but you didn't have to worry about being barged in on. “You ready?” he asked, throwing his shirt across the room, “Because this is it, this is our shot.” You giggled, trying to stifle the sound with your hand, “shhh Rog, we have to be quiet. If we wake them we’re screwed in the not fun way.” “Well the girls were practically snoring before I got through the third page of Clive Eats Alligators so I think we’re good but sure,” He held his finger to his lips, somehow making the action feel sarcastic. “Oh shut up,” you laughed settling back against the pillows and opening your legs more. Roger took one look at your parted thighs and hastily kicked off his underwear, crawling toward you on the mattress. You giggled again as he hovered over you for a kiss but too soon he moved away again, settling himself between your legs. “Oh, okay really?” you asked, surprised as he kissed the front of your knickers, “Thought we were just going straight for the main event. Been touching myself to get ready.” “I could tell and the wet spot made me want to taste you. So just stay quiet and let me.” You squeaked a little as he licked over the wet patch, earning a little nip on your thigh before he pulled your underwear off and pressed his lips to your cunt.

It had been a little while since you’d last managed any sort of oral but the way Roger so enthusiastically went about it made it seem like he’d been denied your pussy for years. Which made it all the more difficult to keep your pleasure to yourself. Small moans and whines escaped your throat every so often and, despite how hard you tried to keep them quiet, Roger seemed to enjoy telling you off for the smallest whimper. He’d hum in warning which would inevitably make you more inclined to moan again. He’d catch even the softest sounds, giving you little bites as punishment. You tried to deter his teasing by smothering your whines with your arm, something that clearly amused Roger and only seemed to encourage him. His attention on your clit became even more focused, until he drew another string of sounds from you. “Do I need to stop?” He asked playfully, though it was hard for you to recognise the joke when you were so worked up. “Please don’t. So close,” you managed to get out as Roger returned his tongue to your slit. “Good,” he said against you, “Want to get you off like this.” He made it hard for you to keep quiet, all his focus on your cunt until you gasped, a hand tightening in his hair as you came. That’s when it was Roger’s turn to moan, though he muffled himself easier than you managed.

The shifting of the bed brought you back to the moment. Before you knew it, Roger was easing himself into you, biting his own lip at the feeling. After a few inches, he distracted himself by leaning forward and kissing you, stealing what little breath you had, groaning against your lips as you tightened around him at the slight change of angle. Slowly he sank deeper, filling you inch by inch. You grabbed his arse, encouraging him to go faster, and he grunted into your neck at your eagerness. “I’m trying to be gentle, love.” “Just fuck me, Rog.” He chuckled at that and kissed you again and he let the last few inches of his shaft be swallowed by your cunt. “Better,” you moaned. “Alright, gonna start moving,” he grunted in warning. The bed creaked as Roger moved but he didn’t find it as funny when you told him to keep it down. “Do you want to be fucked or not?” he grumbled, giving another tentative thrust, making the bed creak again. Your laugh was cut short by a gasp at the way it felt as he moved within you.

For a little while you both lost yourself in the sensations, ignoring the creaking as you chased your highs. And then you heard a cough from somewhere down the hallway. Roger stilled instantly, and you bit back a whine at the abrupt end to the stimulation. You both listened for more noise – small footsteps, a cry for one of you, the jiggling of your doorknob. There was a squeak from a different bed and you willed it to be nothing more than it’s tiny occupant rolling over. “Swear they have some sort of sixth sense for when we’re trying to fuck,” Roger breathed out, “You think that’s it?” You shushed him and strained to hear more but everything was quiet again, “Yeah, false alarm.” Roger sighed against your throat, “If I didn’t love your pussy so much I’d regret spending so long going down on you.” You batted his shoulder, “Just hurry up before one of them wakes for real. Want to feel you cum in me.” Roger was laughing softly as he kissed you, only to eager to do as you asked.

#my writing #my blurbs #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #blurb advent 2023

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rogertaylorshbb · 1 year

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"after concert" roger Taylor x reader imagine

hi, this is just a short imagine I have been working on. I've been trying to work and get better on my smut writing skills. the smut I've written in the past has been Absolutely horrible, don't know how anyone actually even read it. if you wanna tell me your thoughts about if its good smut or not, please comment!! but anyway enjoyy!!♥♥

Roger came up from behind you, his loud footsteps and heavy breathing making his presence known. You could see his sweat dripping down his chest as he whipped his sweat with a towel. Roger groaned, staring at you, he walked over to you gently placing his hands on your shoulders. “You look nice,” “Mhm, you like this outfit?”. “Yea, makes you look so fuckable” he groaned desperately. Roger smiled, his tongue grazing the top of his teeth. “Hey, why don't you be a good girl for me?” he whispered. You nodded, guessing what he had in mind.

Roger slowly started to undo the buttons on your shirt, his hands sloppy with frustration but once he got the buttons undone he was fast to cup your breast desperately as he softly let his fingers wander passionately. You moaned over the sensation of Roger's overworked hands gripping at you. He Lightly took your nipple between his teeth as he trailed down your body.

You slid your skirt off and Roger smiled.

“Good girl,”

He reached for the sides of the chair you were on, kneeling to the floor.

Roger sensually glided his fingertips along the inside of your thigh, a shaky gasp escaping your lips.

“fuck-”

“Already so wet,” Roger groaned.

roger let his hands grip your things sucking on the soft skin, you could feel there was gonna be marks the next day

You whined because of his teasing.

“Don't worry, by the end you'll be a soaking incoherent mess”

Roger then slid two fingers into your cunt slowly, then Sucking harshly over your sensitive clit.

You moaned uncontrollably.

His perfect stamina and speed makes your drip onto his hands.

He smirked seeing you frantically gasp and tremble.

You could feel his fingers pushing into you as his swollen lips and wet tongue roughly sucked at your clit.

You could feel yourself reaching climax but to your disappointment he moved his mouth away from your clit, and pulled his two fingers out from you as a wet sound followed.

“Roger please” you desperately begged.

“Don't worry I'm not gonna stop, just figuring out what way I should let you finish”

You tilted your head back. “God” you breathed.

Roger placed his hands on your hip-bones pushing himself up. You melted yourself into the chair as he looked deeply into your eyes.

“Please, roger, just fuck me”.

“sit on the make-up desk”

You quickly stood up propping yourself up onto the desk.

He carelessly took his clothes off.

As he walked close to you, you ran your fingers over his hard penis. “Uh uh” he tutted “you can suck me off after if you want to, but now, I just wanna be inside you”.

Roger looked into your eyes.

He grabbed you hips needlingly and slid himself into you, your loud gasp making him chuckle.

Roger's head fell forward to your chest, his hair falling in front of his face as he closed his eyes in pleasure.

He started to pound into you recklessly but still so loving at the same time. Letting his hair fall onto his face and he groaned louder.

“I- fuck- it feels so- jesus christ” you stuttered.

Roger roughly grunted as his fingertips dug into your hips.

You reached your orgasm, your fingernails digging into his back as his warm breath breathed into your shoulder.

Roger then jolted as he came into you, his soft groans and whimpers.

“Fuck, your so amazing” he whispered his eyes scanning your body.

He slowly slid out of you, his fingertips touching your wetness. Roger examined your cum covering his hands. “I'll get you a towel”.

Roger picked up a clean towel and carefully whipped all the mess off you including his cum. After he picked up his pants and underwear sliding them back on.

You walked over to him.

“Are you tired?”

“A bit” Roger chuckled, “why?”

“Well remember what you said earlier? About me being able to suck you off…..only if your still-”

“y/n, i'm never too tired for that”

He slid his pants back off falling into the chair.

I've tried my best with this, but I still think it feels a bit awkward 😭. I hope it is good to the person reading this. I'm also gonna write part 2! anyway, again, hope you enjoyed!!

@sarcastic-sourwolf

#roger taylor smut #queen smut #smut #smutty #fluff #concert #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fan fic #x reader #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger meddows taylor #roger taylor queen #fanfic queen #queen fanfiction

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thelastdj · 1 year

Text

Green

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Queen!reader

Genre: flooff

Summary: after the infamous hair dye mishap, (y/n) changes their hair color in solidarity

Warnings: none

I woke up this morning to a loud shrieking coming from somewhere in the house.

“Roger?”

The bed next to me was empty and I got scared. What if something happened to him?

Another yell echoed through the house and I finally got up. There was an old tennis racket in the closet, which I grabbed as I carefully walked into the hall. It wasn’t gonna do much damage but at least it was something.

“Roger?” I called out again, “Are you there?”

“(y/n)?” his voice called from down the hall. Why on earth was he screaming in the bathroom at 7am on a Saturday?

I banged on the bathroom door, “Roger? Rog, are you okay? Open up.”

“I’m okay, don’t worry love”

“Then open up”

“I… I can't,” he said from the other side.

“Is the lock stuck? Hold on, I’ll go get a screwdriver-“

“No!” he sounded panicked.

“My god Roger you’re acting as if you’ve got a girl hidden in there,” I rolled my eyes before rethinking what I’d said, “You don’t, right?”

He scoffed, “Of course I don’t (y/n).”

“C’mon, then what’s so bad that you locked yourself in a bathroom?”

He paused for a few moments. “Please don’t laugh.”

The bathroom lock clicked and Roger finally opened it. At first he looked fine, still dressed in pajamas. And then I saw the atrocity he was hiding. His hair, his beautiful blond locks, that hair that everyone admired, was now a violent shade of green. His face was pulled into an almost comical frown. Despite his plea, I couldn’t help myself, the scene before me was just too funny.

“(y/n),” he whined, “You promised you wouldn’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you.”

“Yeah right,” he grumbled.

“Aw, come on Rog, it’s really not that bad,” I said, running my hands through his newly dyed hair.

“We have a show tonight (y/n)” he said, “I have to go out there with green hair for hundreds of people to see.”

•••

We arrived at the theater at 5pm for sound check. It was a nice place, room for over a thousand people, and we all had our own dressing rooms. I loved the rest of the band, but there were only so many flying hairbrushes I could dodge.

Naturally, the first thing we heard as we made our way backstage was Brian’s, “Nice hair mate.”

“Shut up,” Roger grumbled.

“Hi (y/n),” Brian greeted me cheerily before turning back to Roger, “What on earth were you trying to do?”

Roger desperately looked over at me for help. I just shrugged. As much as I felt bad for him, it was his own mess. And what a funny mess it was too.

“I was trying to dye it blonde,” he said in a small voice.

“Blonde?” John asked incredulously, “You were trying to dye your already blonde hair blonde?”

“I wanted a different kind of blonde.”

“Roger darling, I hate to break it to you but blonde is blonde,” Freddie joked.

“(y/n) they’re bullying me.”

“Aww come here you poor thing,” I dramatically threw my arms around him, “You boys leave Roger alone. Run off and tune your instruments now.”

“You’re no fun,” Freddie replied in mock-annoyance.

But they did leave, one by one, all going to their own dressing room to get ready. The start of the show was drawing nearer by the minute and there were costumes to be donned and guitars to be tuned and eyeliner to be perfected. I too had a lot of preparing to do. There was something I had planned that might make Roger feel at least a little better about his hair.

“Is my hair really that bad?” Roger asked once everyone else had left.

Though he had laughed off the other’s comments, he sounded genuinely worried about going on tonight. I hadn’t seen him like this before a show since the band had started.

“I promise, it’s not as bad as they’re saying. You know them, they have to poke a little fun. They don’t mean it,” I reassured him.

Roger nodded and kissed me gently on the forehead.

“Am I still pretty though?” he asked, batting his eyes. He was right back to his old self.

“You’re still the prettiest boy here.”

“Reeeally?”

“Yes, now go get ready!” I laughed.

He kissed me one last time and headed off to his own dressing room.

We still had an hour left before the show, if I hurried up I would be ready just in time to go on.

•••

“FIVE MINUTES,” a voice boomed through the hall.

I looked in the mirror one last time, messing up my hair just enough to look good, and not like my hairdryer had exploded. The rest of the band was already strapping on guitars and doing last minute warm ups when I got there. Roger’s eyes grew wide as he saw me.

“(y/n)?” he asked in disbelief, “What did you do to your hair?”

Even in the dim backstage lighting, the dyed orange hue of my hair was clearly visible.

“I dyed it,” I explained, “Now you’re not the only one who’s going on looking like they’re from the circus.”

Roger shook his head, “That’s the nicest, and probably dumbest, thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he smiled, “Thank you (y/n/n).”

“Anything for you darling,” I said, giving him a quick kiss.

“TWO MINUTES,” the voice called again.

“Can I ask one thing?”

“Yeah?”

“Why orange?“ he asked jokingly before adding, “At least my green looks cool.”

“Bowie had orange hair and he looks cool as fuck,” I countered.

“I guess you’re right,” he conceded.

“ONE MINUTE.”

Roger quickly leaned over and kissed me. “Good luck,” he smiled and quickly headed over to his drum kit.

I strapped on my guitar and looked over to him one more time. His green hair clashed fantastically with his white shirt. Roger raised his eyebrows as he caught my stare.

I shot him a quick wink as the final call came, “AND… SHOWTIME!”

The last thing I saw before turning to face the crowd was Roger wink back at me. The crowd’s screams and claps were deafening, but soon enough Freddie’s voice overpowered even that.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #queen x reader #queen imagine #roger taylor #queen #mattie writes

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rogertaylorsprettyvoice · 3 months

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(roger taylor x y/n)

No lock in the studio

tw: NSFW and explicit language!

word count: 2,790

tags: fem! reader, big age gap, unprotected sex, sex in the work place, dirty talk, sassy roger, quickie, oral sex (giving), penetrative sex, nipple pay, aftersex care

You're 24, you work as a sound engineer for a famous label but you didn't realise today would be the day you'd be left alone in a studio with Roger Taylor.

Peter. I need to find Peter, you think to yourself. You're frustrated and it shows. I'm not a fricking secretary. You're walking through the hallways of the studio looking for the sign S-16 on the door. It's the best studio in the building, which makes sense because Peter is very respected here. It's also the furthest and the longer you're walking, the more annoyed you are. You're really hoping he's alone in there right now. The whole reason why you're walking in the first place is because he cut his phone line off. He really hates to be disturbed.

After hopping for a good 5 minutes through the endless hallways, you finally find the said S-16 door. If he was recording right now, the big red sign above the door would be on. You still discreetly check though the small round window and only see him sitting on his chair, his back turned to you, so you knock.

"Come on in.

- Peter, I'm sorry to disturb you, but Carl is out there fuming about god knows what and obviously he sends ME because I've got nothing better to do than run around like his secretary."

He looks amused, which is reassuring for Peter, but you quickly understand when you hear someone coughing behind you. This day isn't getting any better. You sigh and turn around only to find a familiar face smoking a cigarette on the couch behind the door. It takes you a minute to realise who's standing up to greet you and you feel embarrassed for showing your bad temper in front of a client, especially this one.

You know you should get used to meeting artists and act professional but you weren't expecting to meet Roger freakin Taylor.

He smiles at you and you proceed to shake hands.

"Y/N, please meet Roger, Roger, this is Y/N, our very promising sound engineer.

- Very promising, you say? Nice to meet you, Roger greets you.

- Well, I wouldn't go that far, but it's a pleasure to meet you Sir, you smile back trying to keep it cool.

- Sir? God, don't ever call me Sir, I'm not that old, am I?"

Roger and Peter laugh while you stare in disbelief. You stutter and try to take it back but they seem to forget about it when Roger sits next to your colleague. It took you only two minutes to embarrass myself and insult the greatest drummer of all times, great.

"Y/N, what does Carl want that is so urgent?

- A client is freaking out up there and he thinks it's your fault, but this is all I could understand before he sent me off to fetch you like his little pet."

Now, Peter looks pissed. He gets up from his seat with little to no conviction and says:

"I think I know what this is about.. Rog, let me go check on him really quickly. I'm sorry but Carl can be a real pain in the ass sometimes and he won't let it go unless I come find him."

Roger nods and looks understanding. Peter proceeds to go out, so you start following him outside, eager to watch him put Carl back in his place, but a voice stops you.

"Y/N, can I ask for your opinion?"

The drummer looks at you from his seat, waiting for an answer, but all you can think about is how Roger Taylor wants your opinion.

"I'm sorry, he adds sarcastically, I should have called you Miss, I knew I was moving too fast."

Your laugh lights up the room and the tension your previously felt vanishes.

"Much better, thank you, Sir."

Gosh, he looks handsome when he smiles. And when he doesn't smile. Or when he laughs. Of course, you know who Roger Taylor is, you've seen him before on pictures and on the telly, but now that you're face to face with him, you only have one word on your mind and it's gorgeous.

He doesn't look like he needs much to look good. He's wearing a plain white shirt and somehow looks like the most beautiful man on earth. Although, you have to admit that the way he's wearing it, rolled up sleeves, not fitted, with a button that shows a little more than it should, is very suggestive.

"I would like you to hear this demo I recorded with Peter. I think it's missing something but I don't know what."

The music resonates in the studio and you carefully listen to the arrangement. It's got a rock vibe, with a bit of grunge. For a full two minutes, you're focused on the song, so much that you forget about Roger's presence. The music stops but you hit play again.

"Listen here. Great beginning. But how about you take out some of the guitar harmonies to have a much clearer sound in the first verse to build it up towards the end."

Roger frowns and nods, he is focused on what you're saying. You go on about rhythms, musicality, what adjustments he should make to your opinion. He looks surprised, like he didn’t expect you to be invested like this. When you're finally finished, he gives you an impressed look.

"Now I get what Peter meant when he said promising."

You're flattered but can’t hide your smile.

"How long have you been a sound engineer?

- Well, I'd say for about two years.

- Two years and you talk just like Peter.

- That's because he's kinda my mentor and he's the reason why I came here.

- Wait, hold on, how old are you?

- I'm 24, you were not expecting him to get personal with you this quickly which makes you smile.

- Shit, I'm way out of your league then."

You both look at each other with a hint of challenge in your eyes.

"And you're like what? 40? you tease him.

- Try 36, he takes out a cigarette and stares at you while he breathes in.

- I don't mind, you say, looking straight in his eyes with a smirk.

- You don't mind?

- I don't mind, no, you say with a softer voice, never breaking the eye contact."

You don't understand how the mood shifted so quickly, but the room is now filled with an invisible tension. His eyes linger on your body and lurk you up and down. You love how he doesn't even try to hide his attraction to you. He fully looks like he could devour you right now.

You stand up from your seat to come closer to him and sit on the corner of the control table. You're only inches away from each other. His leg is slightly touching yours and this simple friction is almost too much to endure.

You're looking at him from above but his stare makes it so hard to maintain. His gaze is burning your skin. He’s sitting down, full of his cocky attitude, looking up with his doe eyes.

"I think that Peter, you pause, might be coming back, you almost whisper.”

He stands up and slowly pulls you closer with every word he says, his eyes locked into yours at all times.

“Yeah, he says, I think he’ll be back soon.

- We shouldn’t stand so close to each other, then.

- No, you’re right, we shouldn’t.”

But he doesn’t move. If anything, the tension makes it hard for you to not get any closer. His face is only a moment away from touching yours. His eyes, his piercing blue eyes, move between the tip of your nose and your eyes because you’re so close that he can’t even see your lips anymore.

A warm feeling arises from your lower back. It’s his hand, placed on your Venus dimples. It tickles you, very slightly, and the feeling grows on your stomach. The warmth climbs to your chest and shrouds your bosom.

Roger’s raspy voice suddenly brings you back from wherever you were mentally. You almost forgot about where you were.

“What should we do? his hand slowly lingers on your body.

- Maybe, lock the door? you ask with a smile.

- Or maybe not, says Roger.”

He loves the surprised look on your face. There’s something in his eyes - he’s provoking you. It’s impossible to look away, you are entirely focused on him and start to feel dizzy from the heat. His hand, previously placed on your lower-back, embraces your hip while finding a way under your tee-shirt. You shiver. His hands feel so cold on your burning skin.

With his other hand, he lifts your chin up then cups your face to get a good look at you. He tucks his fingers between your ear which makes you feel the need to gently rub your cheek against his palm. The scent of his perfume mixed with cigarettes completely takes over your analytical judgement; you give him one last look before you lose yourself and lean in, gently placing your lips on his.

Your hands find a way to bury in his neck while his right palm brings your hips together. The kiss is slow, very slow, so slow but so wet. It didn’t take you long to find the way to his pink muscle and yours are now dancing in each other’s mouth. Fingers buried in your hair, tongue caressing yours, pelvis pressed against his very tight pants; it’s almost too much to bare, you want more. No, you need more, you need him whole.

The kiss escalates quickly, making you whimper at how well he explores your mouth. His hands linger around your body, teasing you by caressing your sensitive breast, although he doesn’t yield to your moaning; he seems to like to torment you by grabbing you everywhere else. The feeling gets too overwhelming. You find your way to his shirt and start unbuttoning it until his chest is bare. You sense him smile against your lips. He must like your initiative.

He pulls you out. You instantly feel the need to reconnect with his lips.

“I want you so bad, doll.

- Do you want my mouth too? you say with your doe eyes.

- It’s already mine.”

The heat in your lower stomach migrates to your inner thighs and you can’t ignore the wetness anymore. Your hands brush his chest until they find a way to unbuckle his belt and open his pants. When you look down, you wonder how his pants did not explode. It’s so big you can’t wait to feel it inside of your drenched walls. But you’ve got something else in mind for him.

You kneel. He stares at you from above which makes him sexier than ever. He grabs your hair into an improvised ponytail. You take his member with your hand, slowly lick every inch of it, bottom to its wet tip, before shoving it in your mouth. Roger groans and lets go of the tension. You start moving a little bit, your hand follows your movement and you let your tongue play with it. It feels so freaking good. How can it feel so good? It’s unreal.

You look up to find him already looking down on you, mouth open, eyebrows frowned, wild blonde hair that he keeps pushing from his face. You want to hear his voice again, so you really shove it, deeper, until you feel it in your throat. The most beautiful sound comes to your ear while you’re trying to stay still. You would be moaning so loudly if he wasn’t in your mouth.

“Love, may I help you with my hand?”

You know exactly what he’s referring to because the grip on your hair gets tighter. You nod obviously, eager to see a glimpse of dom Roger.

You resume your sucking and moaning. You’re so dirty, he says, and with that, he thrusts his hard cock deep into your throat. You’ve never been taken care of like this. He’s intense, but not too quick, enjoying your wet mouth between each thrust. You can’t ignore it anymore; you’re drenched.

He gives it a little more strength before he finally pulls out. You can finally breathe. You hadn’t realised you couldn’t, you were too focused on the way he filled your mouth. You’re both panting - not for the same reason though.

“Come here, Y/N.”

He helps you back up, but doesn’t spare a second to pick you up and place you on the edge of the control table. He undresses your lower body, throwing your underwear in the room, and you lift your shirt to unravel your perfect tits, as he says.

“Roger, please, I need you in me, you whine. - Fuck, Y/N…”

He brings his hard cock towards your entrance and moans at the wetness of it. Slowly, he goes in while leaning in to kiss you, but you can't stop moaning, even against his lips. For a second, he intensifies the kiss and goes as deep as he can inside of you. You grab him by the shoulders, by his neck, ready to exhale due to the pleasure but he surprises you when he starts going faster, deeper, and groans while he fills you in really good. He grabs you by the back of your neck and goes faster. He doesn’t miss one opportunity to make you scream.

He slows down and locks his eyes into yours. His movements are like torture. So slow. The wet sounds fill the air and mix with your heavy breaths. He resumes kissing your lips then slowly goes down your neck. Oh my God, he's so hard. You're so hard, Roger. His lips go down and finally find their way to your breast. He licks your hard nipples and you let out the loudest moan while he's fucking you good. He licks them again and grabs your tits in his hand before whispering in your ear:

“You're such a little cunt…”

You don't think you've ever been this wet at the sound of someone's voice. Roger just knows how to make you horny for him and the thought of being his little cunt makes you so aroused that you forget how to breathe properly. The thrusts fill you again, and again, and again before you eventually feel it coming; your hands grab tightly onto him and you desperately look for his eyes before you manage to say:

“I'm coming, Rog…”

The world stops turning for a second. But he doesn’t stop. He’s harder than ever and your mind is completely empty. Your stomach tightens as well as your inner walls The air has left your lungs and your heart just might come out of your chest.

And then the tension just explodes in a loud moan. He's still going hard, frowning his eyebrows and you suspect he's not too far either. Every movement he gives you is like an electric choc that makes the pleasure last longer. It's like a wave of relief that takes over your whole body. You take his hand and place it on your tit before locking eyes with him.

“Don't stop looking at me, you tell him.”

He doesn't. In fact, he's as deep in your eyes as in your pussy and he feels like he's losing control over his own body. He’s going fucking crazy. Absolutely feral for you. He gives you a few more powerful thrusts before he pulls out and spits his thick semen on your stomach. You hear again his raspy voice groaning and he finally stops moving.

His forehead is pressed against yours and for some reason you both can't stop smiling. He leans in and kisses you, softly this time. His lips are so soft, gosh.

Roger helps you clean up and picks up your clothes on the floor to help you with that too. How was this man a literal beast moments ago and acts like the sweetest man alive?

You're both fully clothed now, cheeks still pink, and he takes it upon himself to make your hair look presentable. Roger grabs you by the hips and pulls you closer to him.

“I wish I had more time to actually taste you. You were so wet for me.”

But you don't have time to answer because you both hear footsteps approaching, and the door opens with Peter. A little bit disappointed, you let go of each other but not without a shy smile.

“Y/N? You're still here? Don't you have work to do?”

You hurry to the door, worried he might notice the state of your hair and make-up.

“I asked her to stay so I wouldn’t get bored.”

You don’t need to see him to picture the smirk on his face. Although, before you go, you look back and catch him already smiling at you.

#smut #70's #70's smut #rogertaylor #roger taylor #bohemian rhapsody #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor smut #roger taylor Y/N

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twotitsjohndecaon · 2 years

Text

Just A Kiss

Have a few things which I've written. Here ya go.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, a lil bit of angst, very soft though, swearing, and filthy times but nothing too bad but still 18+

Roger Taylor was an insufferable little flirt. A devious, charming man, who countless women seemed to fall victim too. He was also your best friend, and roommate, and you prided yourself on not falling for him, or so you’d thought.

Nothing had happened, not really.

Until one night where Roger, who had spent most of the day hungover, decided to take it easy and get pissed in the flat instead of the pub tonight. So that’s how the two of you ended up being drunk as all hell together, on the couch, playing silly games to entertain yourselves (because TV was too confusing at this point). The night went on, and the two of you got sleepier as the time ticked by and the night got darker. The two of you ended up closer together, in something resembling a cuddle, because you were too drunk to care otherwise and Roger was touchy anyways and it felt nice to be so close to someone. Your conversation died out naturally as it was too much to focus on anymore, and you sighed, leaning your head back into him and opening your eyes and smiling at him. He smiled back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and that led his hand to your cheek, and then all he really had to do was lean in.

He gave a very soft kiss, not too deep, not too little, just perfect. And his eyes were so blue and it felt so good you didn’t mind in the slightest, and kissed him back before you cuddled a little longer in silence and went to your separate rooms for the night.

In the morning, you remembered the kiss clearly, but chalked it up to being drunk and figured Roger was as well. When he was his usual self in the morning, you made him a piece of toast to try to get over his now double-hangover and everything continued on like normal.

The second time it happened you weren’t drunk, but he certainly was.

You heard a roar of “Y/N!” from your roommate as you entered the sleazy pub Queen was playing that night. He gave you a side hug, smelled like a liquor cabinet, and planted a peck directly on your lips, catching you off guard. Definitely not as graceful as the last time, or as nice. You rolled your eyes and have him a kiss on the cheek in response.

“What happened to only three shots before each show?” you teased him.

“Well, an hour ago wasn’t ‘before’ yet and then I had my usual. I got here too early!” he said in a whiny tone, slurring his speech a little.

“As long as you can play, drummer boy,” said Freddie as he tapped his shoulder, signaling he had to go and heading backstage.

“I can play,” he pouted in a way only he could, and left you without a second glance, too drunk to think about more than one thing at a time. He seemed to remember halfway through, though, and shouted a “s’ya, love!” halfway across the pub louder than he needed to. You smiled to yourself, and settled in for a great show, as always. And dammit, he most definitely still could play.

Then there was the third time. You’d locked yourself in your room the second you came home, not even sparing a “hi,” and started to sob on your bed, your face in your hands. That’s how he knew something was wrong, so there he was, at your door, pushing it open softly, his heart breaking a little bit as he saw your tearful glare at him.

“You didn’t knock!” you scolded, misplacing your anger towards him.

But he just gave a little “sorry, love,” and sat down next to you, and you didn’t think twice about leaning into him, and he didn’t think twice either about wrapping his arms around you so you could let it out. He smelled good, like smoke, which you always told him he should stop, but he hadn’t yet, but it still made him smell good, and he also smelled like Roger. When you eventually quieted down, he whispered softly to you, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s so stupid. I shouldn’t be this upset.”

“Tell me, sweetheart.”

“I was just driving back from the shop and I was being stupid and didn’t pay attention and I hit the guy in front of me. And I’m fine and he was fine but the car’s dented and it won’t even be too much but I just feel so terrible and I should have been paying better attention,” you cried.

“That’s it?” he said.

“Roger!” you said, hitting him a little. He leant back onto your pillows and kept you with him in his arms.

“Ow! What I mean, is, that doesn’t mean you’re stupid, Y/N. Everyone gets distracted sometimes, and you didn’t mean to, and you’re not stupid and you’re not a bad driver. Just a little accident, that’s all,” he comforted. You calmed down more, but didn’t seem convinced.

“When I was 17, I got into a bad car smash once. Went through the window, practically, but somehow I was fine. Not one of my mates, though, he was worse off. And I wasn’t driving but I shouldn’t have gotten in the car with the idiot who was, and I knew that at the time but I did it anyways. That’s stupid,” he mumbled. You looked up to him and snuggled in close.

“Roger, I’m so sorry.”

“No, love, it’s alright. I’m alright. 'Nd I didn’t tell you to take away from how you feel, but just to show you that you really aren’t a bad driver or stupid after all.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled softly into his neck, sending a little shiver down him.

“Annoying, yeah, but definitely not stupid. You’re brilliant, Y/N,” he finished, and you looked at him scoldingly a bit and he smiled back mischievously, and you were so adorable to him in that moment that he just had to lean down and give you a kiss, just to make you feel better. You kissed back, and it was wonderful again, and you would’ve been worried it’d turn into something you didn’t want if you weren’t so distracted by the fender bender you’d done and cuddled right back into him until dinner.

The fourth time wasn’t for a little while, but Roger was sick. Like, actually sick. And while normally you would’ve told him to fuck off and go throw up by himself, you could tell he actually felt like absolute shit and you took pity on him, his un-teased hair, and his pink little nose, rubbed raw from tissues all day. You’d taken as much care of him as you could in the morning, but you had a late shift at work, and didn’t get back till late. You found the flat dark and silent, but with some coughing and groaning coming from Roger’s room, so you quickly changed into your pajamas and washed your face before hopping into Roger’s bed. He seemed half asleep when you got under the cover, and pulled them up around him.

“Cold keeping you up?” you asked.

“Y/N,” he said appreciatively. “You don’t have to stay, don’t wanna get you sick,” he sniffled.

“Well if I get sick, then you can take care of me. You do owe me, after all,” you said as you pulled his head to your chest. You felt so soft, so comforting, and he already felt tons better.

“That I do,” he whispered raspily as he finally was able to stop aching for a moment and fall asleep. When he woke up in your arms, seeing your messy hair, he’d felt loads better, though still sick, but better than he had in about three days. He pretended to be asleep as you snuck out of bed and made sure he was well fed before you went off to work again. And the morning after that, when he finally felt good as new, once you came home he’d wrapped you in a hug and gave you another kiss, with a genuine Thanks, love, before telling you about all the mischief he and Fred had gotten up to at the stall that day. And you were freaking out a little now, because Roger had now kissed you sober more than once, and it was always fantastic, and you weren’t gonna be one of the millions of women he bagged, and you were roommates and friends and it’d make it all weird.

And you started to freak out even more when he started kissing you all the time. Never more than one kiss at a time, though. But now he was leaning over and giving you a little peck each time he came home, each time he was appreciative of something you did, each time before he went out, never in front of the boys, and each time he asked something from you. And you never said anything, because he’d always go to normal so quickly, and it shouldn’t matter anyways. But friends, roommates, didn’t kiss all the time like this, and you definitely weren’t friends with benefits, and it always felt so… domestic. And it never seemed like he particularly wanted to go beyond a small kiss either, and that confused you further, because was he secretly repulsed by you, but he couldn’t be because why would he kiss you in the first place then? Needless to say, you were growing more and more frustrated with each innocent little kiss he left you with.

And you had reached your breaking point one night when you were watching some nature documentary on the BBC and Roger came out of his room, grabbed a beer for the both of you, and sat down next to you.

“What’cha watching?” he asked.

“Dunno. Something about the polar bears, I suppose,” you shrugged. Then he leaned over and gave you a little kiss before opening his bottle. And you froze, and you were very clearly upset suddenly, and Roger was confused. He tried to ignore it for a second, turning to the TV, but he couldn’t just let whatever was going on hang in the air. He was about to turn to ask you what was wrong, before you beat him to it.

“Roger,” you started, very quietly. “Why don’t you kiss me more?”

“Hm?” he asked, confused.

“I don’t mean more often. Just that… you kiss me all the time now and I don’t know why and I don’t know why you only want to kiss me and nothing else,” you asked eyes glued to the screen.

“Well… I like to kiss you,” he started, facing back towards the screen.

“That’s all you want to do with me?” you asked. Roger sighed.

“Of course not,” he shook his head. “God, Y/N, I wish I could do everything with you, but I can’t.”

“Why not?” you said, brows furrowed and faced towards him, tucking your knees up.

“Because… you deserve more than me,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t give me that, Roger.”

“No, I mean it. I’m a piece of shit who smokes and drinks all the time. I’m never around and I bring girls right in front of your face and then I don’t call them the next day, and I don’t want to ever do that to you, so I can’t,” he started. “But I needed to do something, I s’pose. So limiting myself to just a… kiss, I guess was my way of having you without making any promises. Then I wouldn’t be able to hurt you.” “That’s not really fair to me, Roger,” you said. He turned to face you.

“I know. Sorry. Really.” You were silent for a second. “Well why do you think you’d do all of that shit to me?” you asked.

“Well I could never for you, love. That’s why we can’t.” “Well if you could never, then why is there a problem?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Why not?” you said, raising your voice a little. You both sighed. “What if… I want you to do more?”

“You would?” You nodded. “But what if I… I could never do that to you. What if… I’m not what you need?”

“What if you’re everything I need?”

“What?”

“Roger, just kiss me! Please,” you slowed down. “Please, Roger, just kiss me for real, and give me more than just a plain kiss. Roger had no hesitation left, he could never around you, and grabbed your face and gave you a real, genuine kiss for once, one that lasted more than a second, and it told you everything you needed. He pulled away, opening his eyes slowly, and you smiled at him.

“Still not convinced?” you asked. He smiled, but looked nervous. “Please Roger. I want to try. I want you,” you said. And that’s all you had to say before he gave you the sweetest smile.

“Want you too, Y/N, so much. All I ever wanted,” he told you, and you kissed again. Sweetly, after a little, he took you to his room, and loved you gently. He dressed you out of your pajamas slowly and you did the same, and he lowered his mouth to your lips, then your neck, then all the way down your body, and made you come twice on his tongue before he even thought about anything for himself. As he made his way back up, he entered you slowly, and never stopped kissing you, and you were both softly moaning into each other’s mouths through your highs before either of you knew it. After cleaning you up, and giving you a final little kiss on the knee, he pulled you close to him under the covers, and stroked your hair.

“I’m not too worried,” he said softly, kissing the top of your head.

“Hm?” You asked, confused.

“I’m not too worried about loving you. I think it’s the most sensible thing I’ve done, really,” he said. You kissed his chest.

“I’m not too worried either.” And he never let go the entire night. And in the morning when you woke up together, he gave you a kiss in the morning sunlight, a real kiss, and you never went back.

#roger taylor #queen #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #my writing

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vixemi · 4 months

Text

Idk if anyone will know what I’m talking about but I’m trying to find a imagine about Roger Taylor played by Ben Hardy who cheats on reader with a fan I believe. Let a girl know if you find it.

#roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor queen #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor x fem!reader #roger taylor imagines #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #ben hardy #bohemian rhapsody

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violetrainbow412-blog · 2 years

Text

The jacket [R. T]

Roger Taylor x fem!reader

Word count: 2k

summary: by chance you find just what you wanted at a stall in Kensington market… but some problems arise

A/N: I got a little (a lot) obsessed with the story of Queen and especially Roger, so I couldn't pass up the opportunity. Tell me if you like it!

It was a cold, cloudy day, like most days in London, and you were walking in the direction of a sign posted on a building; Kensington market. You had earned a little extra money at work, so you planned to spend it all on quirky, colorful clothes like the ones they sold out there.

The place was huge so when you walked in you didn’t even know where to start. Each time you were filling more and more the backpack that you had carried with clothes of all kinds and you were happy to find cheap things that would work for you.

You were walking down an aisle quite distracted with clothes hanging on top of the stalls and almost like a miracle your eyes found it. It was an absolutely gorgeous jacket, just like the one you’ve been wanting for months, so you practically rushed over to the booth to touch it with your hands.

It was soft, brown in color, and with plush fabric that felt soft to the touch.

“Good morning, miss” you heard someone say in front of you. You had been so focused on the piece of clothing that you didn’t notice the man.

You were silent for a second, taken aback by the way he looked: golden hair, bright blue eyes, and white skin that looked neat. His features were delicate and he was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt.

“Huh… hi,” you said, feeling shy all of a sudden.

He was very handsome and that intimidated you, but the sweet smile he offered you afterward eliminated that feeling almost completely.

“Do you like that? It belonged to the countess from a distant country, she used to wear it to go out for a walk on cold mornings and it was her favorite, but one day she had a fight with her lover and he got rid of the garment out of spite.

It is a unique piece of its kind” he told you. Your first instinct was to furrow your brows in confusion, wondering if he was really telling you the truth or just making you look like a fool, but then you thought it was just a story he had built up on the fly to make the deal more interesting. That made you smile a little.

“How surprising. It must have cost a fortune if it belonged to royalty.”

“Oh, of course. But I can give you a special price and it will be yours for the ridiculous amount of 20 pounds” by this point it was obvious that he had made the story up, but you were surprised to hear the price. It was a little more expensive than what you had spent on other clothes, but you couldn’t deny that you were captivated from the beginning and it would be a crime not to take home that jacket “What do you say?” he asked noticing your silence. When your eyes met his, you felt nervous again.

“It’s more than I expected,” you said sincerely “But I admit that this is beautiful. So that’s fine, I’ll pay for it” you exclaimed as your eyes lit up.

“Smart girl,” he complimented you, smiling at you again. You could tell that he was a charismatic guy “I’m Roger, do you have a name?”

“Y/N”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he murmured and for the first time you burst out laughing.

“How original,” you said sarcastically. That was one of the most cliché phrases you had ever heard in your life, but even with that you couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m serious. It’s cute” he insisted. How old was that boy? He looked young, but the only thing that terrified you was that he was so much younger than you. You wondered if he sold clothes for a living or had a real job or if he was studying at some university or if he had a girlfriend. You weren’t attracted to all the men who passed before your eyes, but this one in particular had something that had captivated you a little. A bit embarrassed, you handed him a bill which he exchanged for the jacket. “Do you need a bag for that?”

“No, I’ll use it now” you answered and fulfilled what was said. He let out a low whistle.

“Looks Good. It was a great purchase,” he said. It was probably routine with all the customers so they would be satisfied with what they just bought, but you didn’t care.

“Thank you, have a nice day” you murmured as you took your things to continue with the walk.

“Have a wonderful day too. Whenever you want to come back, I’ll be waiting for you” he politely said goodbye. Again you thought that it was something he said to all the buyers and at this you showed him a grateful smile.

You thought that after walking through a few more stalls and not liking anything, it was best to go home. You could put on the TV for a while, make tea, and enjoy a lazy Sunday.

You were wandering down the long corridor in thought until something interrupted your thoughts and made you let out a shriek.

It was that boy again.

“Hey” he exhaled agitatedly. He looked like he had run and his cheeks were flushed as he looked at you.

“Hello,” you said confused. His hand was on your bicep, but he only held it there for just a moment and then fell back to his side.

“Listen, I’m… I’m really embarrassed, but I need the jacket back,” he mumbled, but all he managed to do was deepen your frown, so he thought he’d better speak again “It wasn’t for sale, my partner left it there and that’s why I thought it was, but… it’s important and I’m probably going to end up dead if I don’t take it” he explained. You could have told him no and you would have every right, of course, since the mistake had been his, but he sounded so desperate and sincere that you felt bad for him. Maybe the universe was trying hard because you didn’t get it.

“I thought he belonged to a countess” you joked without much encouragement. He laughed nervously and was overjoyed when he saw that you had started to take it off.

“It’s more like a queen” he snorted and you instantly understood why his urge to get it back; it belonged to his girlfriend. You were going to give it to him when a doubt invaded you.

“You’re going to give me my money back, right?”

“Yes! Of course I will” he hastened to reply “And I’ll give you whatever you want from the position as compensation, I’m really sorry”

“Oh, it’s not necessary”

“I insist,” he said with determination “If you want you can accompany me for your money and so you choose something, does it sound good?”

he asked with a smile. Either way you had to tag along for the money and you thought the idea of getting something for free sounded too tentative.

After you nodded your head, the two of you began to walk in silence, but it didn’t take you more than a few minutes to reach the place.

You had expected to see a pretty girl, but in her place was a man with long hair and a furious expression.

“You are an idiot, Roger”

“I already told you I didn’t know! It’s your fault for just leaving it there” he defended himself.

Apparently the opposite hadn’t noticed your presence and when he did his expression softened considerably.

“Sorry what my friend put you through, love,” he apologized, but you waved your hand dismissively. “But at least I have to admit you have good taste,” he continued, making you laugh.

“It’s a really beautiful jacket”

“We have some similar ones back here and there are also some dresses that I think would look perfect on you, what kind of clothes do you like to wear? Because an A-line skirt would really flatter you,” he started to say, pulling you inside and causing you to lose sight of the blonde. He had an impeccable fashion sense and for a moment you wondered if he was a... gay man. To be honest it wasn't something that bothered you, but many people considered it a mental disorder and a sin. Then you also wondered if the blond in front of the stall was that boy’s boyfriend “My name it’s Freddie, by the way”

“I’m Y/N”

“Nice to meet you. Usually it’s Roger who gets the attention of the nice girls, but now he’s too embarrassed with you to do anything” he sneered. You didn’t expect that and you were surprised, but with that sentence you had confirmed that the blond liked girls, with the possibility that you were one of them “Do you like this dress? It’s an antique, but if you pin it here and take off the sleeve it’ll look wonderful,” he continued. You weren’t planning on staying that long, but Freddie’s advice was great and you liked the view out there. At some point Roger joined the conversation, possibly getting over his embarrassment, and before long you were having a fantastic time. They were both very charming and friendly.

“Although I liked being with you, I have to go, I still need to buy a couple of things” you expressed embarrassed “But thanks for everything, the advice and that”

“It was a pleasure, you can come back any day you want, we’re here every weekend, right, Roger?” Freddie said gently.

“Sometimes only Freddie is there, I’m going to play”

“Like… in a band?” you asked, slightly interested, hoping not to be reckless.

“Yeah, in a band called Smile” he muttered happily “I play drums”

“Wow” you gestured “And it’s like… ballads and stuff?”

“It’s rock”

“Oh” you sighed again. You wouldn’t have guessed that he would do that, but now that you knew, his style seemed to fit very well. You could imagine him on stage banging on the drums.

“You should hear them one day” Freddie went ahead to say and you looked at him in surprise “You have a show at the Imperial next week, don’t you Rog?”

“Huh-uh,” he said, a little nervous. He didn’t expect Freddie to do that and he was going to make sure he charged him dearly.

“Well, I’ll have to go around there” you replied “If you don’t mind, of course”

“Not at all. The more the merrier, isn’t it?” he laughed. He sounded quite sincere and you eliminated the idea that he would have been made uncomfortable by the idea of you in one of his shows.

“Well, it’s done” you smiled. You really had to go or you wouldn’t have enough time for the rest of the day “See you later”

“Saturday 8:00 PM at the Imperial, don’t forget it! Have a wonderful week, darling”

“Goodbye,” said Freddie and Roger respectively.

Both of them watched you walk down the hall until you were lost in the distance “Fred, may I know why the hell you did that?” Roger yelled, you were barely a safe distance away.

“C’mon! You were dying to invite her” he mocked his friend. Roger was so flushed that he looked like a ripe tomato “And I’ve never seen you be shy around women”

“But I sold him a jacket that I later took from him”

“And we gave her an item of clothing and my priceless fashion tips. I think that makes up for it” he continued, at his calmest for the matter “Besides you owe me this”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t know when I’ll ever get a chance to embarrass you again for almost losing my precious, so I decided to do it now,” Freddie muttered, shrugging softly, as he arranged a few china figurines they were selling.

“You are the worst”

“When you’re making out with her behind your car, you’re going to thank me,” he assured him. Roger grunted and then laughed as he gently shook his head. As much as he wanted to deny it, he felt a little happy at the thought of seeing you again.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #roger taylor fanfic #queen fanfic #freddie mercury #queen #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x female reader

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imagintheworldaway · 1 year

Text

Assistant

A/N this is a little longer than i intended and a bit of a roller coaster but i hope you guys enjoy nonetheless.

Warnings: Nah, stressed reader a bit??

Requests: Open :)

It was mid morning and I was late as hell. I was balancing my bag, a folder full of notes, legal documents and potential lyrics as well as a bag of food and coffees whilst trying to navigate my way down the busy streets of London. I glanced at my reflection in a window as I stood and waited for the traffic to clear and cross the road. “Fuck” i whispered to myself. My clothes were already dishevelled and my hair looked like I had been head banging for the past four hours.

I finally got to the studio, sending a weary smile to the receptionists, who looked at me sympathetically before calling the lift. “Don’t worry they’ve only just got here” one of the girls shouted after me as i entered the lift. “Thank you '' I called over my shoulder, her statement doing nothing to reassure me. I waited impatiently as the lift shot up, tapping my foot, my knuckles turning white from holding the array of clutter in my arms for so long. “Here she is!” the studio manager announced to everyone, causing all eyes to fall on me. Freddie was messing around on the decks, Brian was furiously scribbling on a notepad, John was watching meticulously over Brian's shoulder muttering notes and humming tunes and Roger, well he was laying on the sofa smoking a cigarette and just observing the others.

“I am so sorry” I breathed out, throwing the folders down. I walked around the room handing out the drinks, thankfully I had the hindsight to write their initials on each one, probably the only smart thing I had done this morning. “It’s ok darling, we were just dying of thirst” Freddie quipped with a smirk as I shot him an apologetic look. “Don't mind him, he's in one of his moods” Brian whispered as I handed him his cup. I mouthed a thank you before sitting on the stool in the corner and sifting through the different sections, un-clipping different notes to have them ready for when Freddie demanded them.

I took a deep breath as I settled into the seat and everyone concentrated on whatever they were doing before I got there. “Hey Y/N can i have the notes from last Thursday?” Brian said nonchalantly, chewing on his pen with his brow furrowed. “Yh here” I smiled handing over the sheets, him instantly flicking through them as I sat back down. “You look tired” Roger whispered, lifting his head so he could look at me from his position on the sofa. “Is it that obvious?” I whispered back with a faint smile. “Yh, when you’re tired you always gaze off into space” Roger shrugged, sitting up so that he was now at my eye level. “Neighbours again?” he asked, sipping his coffee. “Yh, i know it's nice having a baby and everything, but the screaming at four in the morning is really getting old” i said tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, thankful someone would let me vent about the situation.

I loved where I lived and my life, but my new neighbours had just had a new baby, which is amazing, and she is the cutest thing ever, but this girl has mental lungs. “Sucks, this is why you need an actual house” Roger said, we had had this conversation a million times. Him asking about my neighbours, me telling him about the noise, him saying i needed to move, me explaining i could only move if his band paid me more, him laughing it off and that's the end of it.

“I’m not having this conversation again Rog” I smiled sadly, turning to distract myself with the notes. “You cannot keep living like this” he muttered, worry lacing his voice. I was about to respond until Freddie beckoned Roger. He placed a hand on my shoulder before walking over to the singer.

I watched band practice for about three hours before I started becoming irritable, as fun as it was that the room was so small and listening to the same three notes over and over again became very overwhelming. I caught Roger's gaze and he subtly nodded his head towards the door. I just smiled, grabbing my jacket and slipping out of the room and down the corridor to the fire escape. The crisp London air blew past me as i lean on the railing. I waited a minute or so before I heard the door go again. “Hey” I sighed, as I heard the click of a lighter. “You look even more miserable than this morning,” Roger commented as he sat on the steel steps and looked up at me, taking a drag of his cigarette. “I love how nice you are to me” I smirked, casting my gaze to meet him. “Hey someone has to keep you humble” he said with a goofy grin. I just rolled my eyes and chuckled to myself. “Well you’re definitely doing a good job of it” I sighed, sitting on the metal platform, leaning my back against the bars which held up the railing. “Wanna go early? I can tell the guys you're ill?” Roger suggested as I played with my hands. “Kind of counterproductive” I shrugged, biting my lip as I chipped away at my nail polish.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, the only noise coming from the streets of London alongside the crackling of the cigarette every time Roger took a drag. “You know Y/N, if you need help..” Roger started to insinuate. I snapped my head up and sent him a death glare. “Rog, i love you guys, but i don't need any help, you guys are my bosses, i cater to your needs, not the other way around” i rambled on nor folding my arms across my chest. Roger just sighed as stubbed out his cigarette and threw it over the edge. “You’re so stubborn” Roger huffed, standing up, holding his hand out to me. “Once again, you're so lovely” I smirked, taking his hand as he pulled me up. I watched as Roger went to speak again. “I’m fine, I promise” I said quickly, opening the door, beckoning him to follow me.

The rest of practice went slowly. I kept catching Roger shooting worried glances over to me, which I just returned with a mundane look before looking away. It was nice that he cared. It was nice that they all cared. But they were big rock stars and I was just their little assistant in the background. It was sweet that he wanted to help but then I would be in his debt, which didn't sound too bad but the guilt would follow me every time we were in the same room.

I was jotting down some notes, mainly about some upcoming meetings so I didn't forget when I noticed the time. Shit it was 4:30, I had to go and pick up the album prints at five and it was all the way across town. I started shuffling everything together, stuffing it back in the folders before slipping my jacket on. “I have to go and pick up the album cover designs, i will see you guys tomorrow” i said hurriedly sending a quick smile and wave before hurrying out the door.

Rogers POV -

“Ok Rog, she's gone, you can stop staring” John huffed as he nudged my rips. “What? I have no idea what you’re talking about '' I mumbled, not even looking at my band mate, instead casting my eyes down to the notepad in front of the two of us. “Maybe she should stop coming to practise,” John huffed, his irritation evident in his tone. I looked up at him and furrowed my brows. Why would he say that? I went to go and speak before Brian decided to join the conversation. “I think you’re right, Roger, whenever she's here you can't seem to concentrate for more than five minutes, maybe we should give her the rest of the week off, we do have a deadline to meet.” he shrugged, sitting on the stool Y/N had previously occupied. I instantly shook my head, ready to argue on her behalf. “She needs the money, you have no idea what she's going through” I huffed, crossing my arms and standing up, not wanting to be near the two men. “Oh we do, it's all you talk about” Freddie now chimed in, getting annoyed with our arguing. “Oh fuck off do i” i said my own anger bubbling now, my tone a lot harsher than i realised, looking at each of the guys. “Roger, you either talk about how good she is or what issues she's facing, and as much as i sympathise, i really do, we also have shit we need to get done” Freddie lectured me for a moment. Was it really that obvious? Did i really talk about her that much, did she ever notice this?

“Maybe just ask her out mate” Brian stated, taking me out of my thoughts. I just scoffed at this. “Maybe just ruin our friendship if she says no and then she would never want to talk to me again?” I spat back at him. There was no way she liked me, she just saw me as her boss and that was it. “Let's just finish this song” I said as the silence became unbearable. “Mate, just talk to her,” John said before I went into the booth. I just ignored him, signalling that I never wanted this conversation to happen ever again.

As I was at my stool I just thought about what the guys had said. Maybe they were right. But what if they weren’t? What if she just saw me as a friend and nothing more, I couldn't bear not seeing her everyday.

Readers POV -

I was actually on time today. I had pre packed my bag last night, the prints had come out amazing and I couldn't wait to show the boys. The coffee shop was dead, and the barista had remembered the day before's order so the coffees were quick, it was an outrageously sunny day and everything was falling in place. I was one street away from the studio when I heard my name being called. I looked over my shoulder and saw a blonde bush bound towards me. “Hey let me help you” Roger smiled at me, slinging my bag over his shoulder before I could protest. “Shit you carry this every day? Its fucking heavy” he laughed as he walked next to me towards the studio. “Yeah, it sucks, but I never know what you will need” I giggled as he opened the door for me. I mouthed a thankyou as I turned and smiled at the girls at reception.

“How come you’re so late?” I asked as we both stepped into the lift. “Nice morning i wanted to enjoy it before being cooped up in here all day” Roger shrugged as he looked down at me. “That's sweet,” I sighed, looking back at him, meeting his gaze. I felt a warmth start to bubble in my stomach, turning away quickly before he had the chance to notice the slight pink that had crept onto my cheeks. Roger cleared his throat, breaking the silence in the small room. “Sleep well then?” he said out of nowhere. “Oh yeah, i think they are away, best night i have had in so long, i feel so good” i said shyly, daring myself to look back and see that Roger had never averted his gaze. “I can tell, you look good, not that you don't always look good, but today you just look, well amazing” he stumbled over his words. The ding of the lift took us out of the moment as the doors opened and we could hear the boys down the other end of the corridor. “Best get to work” Roger sighed, stepping away first. I followed him like a lost puppy into the studio.

“Hello you two” Freddie acknowledged our presence as Roger put my bag down and I handed out the drinks. “Starting to wonder what you were getting up to” He added, causing a light blush to stain my cheeks, not daring to look back at Roger. “Oh i have the prints” i diverted the attention as i handed out the papers to the boys, which luckily caused a welcome distraction.

Today felt different. I caught myself stealing glances of the drummer, and whenever I looked he was returning the gesture. I knew it was a dangerous game I was playing, Roger was known to be a heartbreaker, but it was easy to see why the groupies loved him so much. He was attractive, funny, caring, and he listened to me and all my silly little complaints. Shit i think I fancied Roger. “Y/N” someone shouted, breaking me from my thoughts. I hummed a response and looked at the studio manager who was beckoning me.

“Are you going to go and get us lunch or not?” he said through gritted teeth. Oh god I need to really work on my time keeping skills. “Yes I'm sorry” I whispered, grabbing my spare bag and a note with everyone's orders on it. I went to press the lift when I heard footsteps behind me. “I’ll come with” Rogers unmistakable voice said, now standing next to me. “Oh no no, honestly, it's fine,” I said awkwardly, waving the little piece of paper. “Honestly I need a break” Roger shrugged stepping into the lift. I just rolled my eyes following him.

We walked in a comfortable silence all the way to the little sandwich shop I went to almost every day for the boys. Once I had placed the order I joined Roger at a table in the corner. “You really didn't have to come” I smiled sitting down opposite him. “Thought you could use the company” he said with a goofy grin making me giggle. “Also i wanted to talk to you, alone” he said, leaning his arms on the table, fidgeting with his fingers. “Oh god you’re not firing me are you?” I joked, meeting his eyes and realised he wasn't joking at all. “You’re not are you?” I whispered, a pang in my stomach causing nerves to encase me. The silence seemed to last forever. “Oh god no, sorry” Roger said suddenly, causing my nerves to subside momentarily. “Then what is it?” I asked, searching his eyes for answers. “I worry about you Y/N” he started. “Roger, I've told you we aren't having this conversation again” I said, slightly irritated. “Please let me finish” he almost asked as he reached a hand out, placing it on top of my own. I took my own shaky breath, as the simple touch made me feel nervous all over again. “I worry because I care about you Y/N” his words spun around my head as my breath hitched in my throat. “I care about you so fucking much, i want you to be so happy, and i want to be the one who makes he happy” he confessed almost sheepishly. “I don't want to be that womaniser they write about in the magazines, i want you to know that everyday, just seeing you makes me so happy, and i only want you” the confession continued. I felt the butterflies in my stomach start going off in a frenzy, i didn't know what to say, this is the most sincere and rawest i had seen the drummer ever. “Please say something” Roger asked me, his grip on my hand never faltering. I blinked myself out of the trance, praying this isn't some silly daydream, but no it was all real. “You’re so goofy” I giggled, leaning forward, making the first move and crashing my lips against his own. I could have stayed in the moment forever. His soft lips melding perfectly with mine, his spare hand cupping my cheek as I lean across the table. “Order 34” a shriek said, pulling us from our own personal bliss.

“So wanna get a drink sometime?” Roger smirked as I picked up the order. “Haha yes you idiot” I giggled as he wrapped an arm around me and we made our way back to the studio in our own personal bliss.

#roger taylor #roger queen #roger taylor imagine #Queen #queen band #roger taylor x reader

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acciotwinz · 2 years

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Roger Taylor blurb

Roger is enjoying the buzz of a show well played. Freddie is basking in the attention and love from the patrons of the bar, Brian enjoying his beer and Deacy chatting with Veronica.

It’s a perfect evening, until he notices his best friend across the bar. He had watched her dance and sing her heart out while they were playing and as per their tradition, Y/N heads to the bar to get the first round of drinks for them all as they chat with some of the fans.

Roger watches Y/N leans against the bar, waiting for the bartender to acknowledge her. She waits patiently as she drums her fingers on the sleek surface. She must feel his eyes on her because she’s suddenly turning and making eye contact. She makes a face at him and Roger can’t help but grin.

Y/N suddenly turns when the bartender stands in front of her. He frowns when a man slides up to her, placing a hand on her back. Roger watches as she shrugs off his arm and moves a bit to the side but the man doesn’t seem to get the memo.

Roger stands and makes his way to the bar, ignoring some of the fans calling his name.

“Really, I’m fine and with my friends. Please leave me alone.”

The man doesn’t falter, crowding Y/N against the bar, and leaning into her face, “C’mon gorgeous, someone like you shouldn’t be all alone. I promise you’ll have fun with me.”

Roger grabs the man by the shoulders, roughly pulling him away from Y/N. Without turning towards her, he asks if she’s okay but before he can hear the answer, the man shoves him. “What’s your problem?!”

Roger glares at him, gearing himself up for a good fist fight. “My problem is you. The lady said no.”

“Roger,” Y/N says softly, slipping her arms around his waist, “it’s okay. Leave it, please.”

Roger glare doesn’t soften but he does catch the bartender’s eye and nods toward the man. “Piss off.”

The man glares back, “Fuck off, prick! You -“ The bartender cuts him off, yanking on his arm as he starts shoving him towards the exit.

“My hero!” Y/N laughs in his ear, planting a kiss on his neck. “What would I do without you?”

Rog grins, turning and gathering her in a hug, “Get harassed more often.”

Y/N grins, “Probably, but luckily you’re always here when I need you.”

“And I always will be,” he promises, squeezing her before releasing her and grabbing some of the drinks. “Now c’mon, love. Time to celebrate a good gig!”

Y/N grins, lifting a beer and screaming “Long live Queen!”

The crowd echoes the call and Roger thinks that maybe the night is even better than he initially thought.

#JJ writes #JJ gets back into writing #queen fanfiction #queen fanfic #queen fic #queen blurbs #Roger Taylor x reader #Roger taylor imagine #roger taylor reader insert #roger taylor x y/n #roger taylor blurb

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likesomekindofcheese · 1 year

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Sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you could write a Roger Taylor x guitarist reader fluff story, I haven’t been able to find any. (No pressure)

Hi, there anon! I hope you find this! I know I have had BAD writer's block for the Queen Fandom and lack of inspiration to write but I hope you get this and you like it!

Anon, if and when you get this, please send me a dm or ask so I know you got it! Thanks!

Link to My Ko-Fi

Link To My Etsy Shop (For Comfort Character Letters and Playlists!)

Link to My A03

COMMENTS, REBLOGS, AND ASKS OR DMS ABOUT MY WRITING IS APPRECIATED!!!!

Roger Taylor Dating a Guitarist Would Look Like...

First off, we love Rog and he can be a lil shit so he will get competitive and try to get his own guitar to riff off with you. He plays something, and you play something more elaborate. The other band members gather with popcorn, their heads going from one space to another like cats with a toy. It's like "The Devil Went Down To Georgia" but with guitars instead of fiddles. And no way will he let you win (unless you kiss him).

He tries to serenade you and then you give critiques of his form or playing snarkily and he goes "OHHHH Y/N, I was trying to be romantic!" and you both laugh it off. You both enjoy teasing each other like that.

Many Guitarists tend to be more relaxed and creative in their personalities and Roger loves that about you. It makes you so peaceful and fun to hang around and date!

One time for his birthday you write a song for him!!! And he loves it and even cries. Normally, he's the one writing for his muses never the other way around!! So he hugs you and gives you a big ol' smooch!

Both of you talk for hours about his songwriting- his ideas and the various songs you both play. What's easy, what's hard, what you want to learn, etc. (Plus Brian and Freddie Third Wheel so it becomes the guitarist circle)

Once there was a party that was getting very dull very quickly. (Someone suggested hard drugs and that guy was shut down quickly). So you got out your guitar and you and Roger began to duet. People started to request songs and you would try to see if you or Roger could play them- carefully switching the guitar between you two and enjoying the challenge.

Often your fingers are very calloused from all the playing and Roger will flip your hand onto the palm and kiss those lil'finger tips out of affection!!

#carrie writes #anon #anon request #roger taylor #queen #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #roger taylor x y/n #roger taylor fluff #anon ask

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michelle-is-writing · 2 months

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Protector, Warren Worthington iii

Word Count: 4.5k~

I had been best friends with Warren ever since I met him.

Throughout our years in school, Warren and I had always stuck by each other's side. We hung out together, ate lunch with each other, and nearly forgot about all those people around us who would point out his wings to hurt him. It was like we were in our own little world, and in a way, we were.

We met in the second grade while our class was in the library. While looking for a book, I found Warren, huddled up behind a bookshelf in the elementary school library. He was red in the face and crying as he held his knees close to him. Instantly, I noticed his wings, of course - how could I not?

However, this didn't stop me from going up and asking him what was wrong. I can still remember the way his curls bounced against his scalp as he turned his attention away from his lap and up to me, quickly wiping away his tears to cover up his emotions. Despite being so young, he knew how to expertly do this as he pretended that nothing was wrong and he wasn't crying merely thirty seconds ago.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting beside him. I saw him tense up, his back straightening up as he laid his legs out in front of him instead of hugging them to his chest.

"Nothing," He instantly answered me, once again, pretending as if everything wasn't as it seemed.

Instead of saying anything more, I let the boldness I had as an eight-year-old takeover and pulled him into my arms, his figure becoming even tenser. Although, he didn't pull away, and instead, just stayed in that position until I spoke up.

"The kids are mean to me too," I told him, his breath catching in his throat. "And they shouldn't be because you seem pretty cool," I explained with a smile as he turned his eyes up to look at me again. "No one else here has wings, and they're really pretty."

From then on, we were practically inseparable. We weren't seen without each other, and despite bullies picking on us, we didn't let their words bother us. Even as we got older, nothing changed, and in spite of living in an expensive house with nearly triple the amount of space that my house was, Warren chose to stay at my place most nights. His parents didn't care about what he did, and my parents were more than happy to have him over.

When we reached high school, our friendship turned into an actual relationship between two lovebirds (no pun intended). Now we really were inseparable.

However, this changed one night when he went out to grab something from the store. I was sick, and needed medicine; so, being the thoughtful boyfriend he was, he decided he would go out and get some. I guess we underestimated how much mutants were hated in the area as Warren never came back.

Now it's been three months since he disappeared.

Every night since, I went searching for him, only to return to some hotel or hostel without him. I don't know what came over me tonight though. For all my life, I've always been told to avoid putting myself in dangerous settings, and yet, all of those lessons were cast away as I heard people screaming and hollering down an empty and dark alleyway while in Munich. My searching had taken me far away from home, but I wasn't going to stop until I found Warren.

Following the sounds of excitement and fury, I found a hidden door that led to what seemed to be a fighting ring. People surround the caged area, but I push through them, ignoring their waving arms with money held high. I stop at the metal fence separating the people from the ring, only to gasp in horror as my eyes fall over the white, fluffy wings I've loved for many years.

"Warren..." I hear his name being whispered through my lips, tears forming in my eyes as I look at his hurt and pained figure. Fighting for his life against another mutant, he spits blood from his mouth as he wipes away the blood forming on the cut across his cheek. The tattered t-shirt he wears, the same thing he wore the night he disappeared, barely hangs onto his shoulders by a few strips of fabric, the band emblem on the front no longer being recognizable. His arms have fresh bruises forming all along the skin while fading bruises covers the visible parts of torso. How the hell did he get here?

Too shocked to move, I watch as Warren throws a punch at the other mutant, only to hit the fence in front of him, the silver eliciting sparks as soon as Warren touches it. "Shit!" He yells while the blue mutant seemingly teleports to different parts of the cage, only to receive the same treatment as Warren did. Hearing his voice after so long makes me nearly choke on the air in my throat, the tears now falling freely. Seeing Warren makes me want to rip through the fence and save him, but seeing that the metal fence is electric, I can't simply do that.

Blinking the oncoming tears away, I glance in every corner of the underground hideaway and try to find something that might resemble a control panel. It isn't until I see a switch box on what seems to be a surveying floor that I begin running to it, successfully climbing up the steps to the higher level and stopping in front of it. Gazing back to the fighting ring, I see Warren shouting at the dodging mutant while people standing around the cage yell out vile words of hate and absolute greed.

"Warren!" I shout his name as loud as I can, placing my hand on the handle to the electrical switch. Instantly, his head darts toward the voice calling his name, every inch of his being relaxing once he sees me. I smile at him before nodding, his eyes following my hand as it begins pushing the handle downward. Just before the electricity goes out, I see Warren's dirty wings perk up just as the entire underground arena goes pitch black.

In the darkness, the people's screams die down while the clinging sound of the fence being ripped apart follows it. Mere seconds pass before I familiar arms wrap around me and tug me close to their body, Warren's wings flapping rapidly as he lifts us into the air and to the hidden door I entered through. Once we're outside, we quickly run as far as we can before stopping in another alley, far away from the other one.

As soon as we stop, Warren wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to him, his lips immediately attaching to mine in a fervent and much-needed kiss. His hand on my waist never falters in its hold on me, and instead, it squeezes the flesh there as if he were testing if I was real or not.

"I'm here," I tell him, sliding my hands down his face as endless tears fall from his cheeks and onto my hands. Staring into his tear-filled eyes, I can't help but cry tears of happiness as well. "I'm right here."

Nodding, Warren folds his wings behind him, slightly wincing at the pain of them conforming against his back. "Fucking hell," He mutters, placing his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. A few seconds pass of him just holding me before he kisses me once more. "I've missed you so fucking much."

Our sweet reunion is cut short by a black vehicle slamming on their brakes at the end of the alleyway. "Warren," I say his name, concerned at the sight in front of us. Warren turns around, only for his wings to burst out again, shielding me from seeing anything. Peeking under one of the long feathers, I see two men leave the vehicle before one of them points at Warren.

"That's him!" The man yells, "Get him!"

In an instant, Warren swings around and wraps his arms and wings around me, protecting me from the flurry of oncoming bullets. What appears to be eight shots sounds throughout the alley before the same car speeds off again as Warren begins to topple over. Was he shot?

Trying to catch him before he falls on his face, I wrap my arms around Warren and hold him up for a few seconds, only for his size to take over mine and fall to the side. Landing on his back with me on top of him, Warren waves his hand at me while shaking his head, his eyes shut. "I'm fine," He mutters, his voice now suddenly tired and drained.

Eyes wide and concerned, I turn him onto his side and look over him to see blood pouring from his wings. Between the layers of feathers, I find what seems to be four bullet wounds, causing me to practically lose it as the crimson liquid touches my hands. "No, no, no, no, no," I mutter uncontrollably as I place him onto his back. "Warren, Warren," I repeat his name, running my hand against the side of his face, his own blood smearing across his flawless cheek. "Warren, don't go to sleep!"

At my heartbroken plea, Warren opens his eyes, frowning at the sight of tears pouring from my eyes. "Don't cry, my love," He begs, his voice even weaker than before. He lifts a hand to my face, doing the same to me just as I had done to him. I quickly place my hand over his, holding it there as I feel the warmth in his skin begin slowly leaving it. "I... I love you..." He whispers, his eyes closing once again.

Just like a few seconds ago, I feel every ounce of sanity leave me as I watch the love of life wither away in front of me. "Warren, don't do this to me!" I shout, the tears now falling like a waterfall. I could barely manage not seeing him for the three hellish months when he was missing - I can't live the rest of my life without him.

"Warren!" I scream his name again, utter desperation being the only recognizable thing in my voice. Releasing a sob, I push my head against his chest and hear his still-beating heart. However, I know that if I don't get him to a hospital within the next few seconds, his heart won't continue beating like that. But what hospital will even help us?

"Ma'am?" I hear a woman's soft voice coming from the end of the alley, causing me to jerk my head up and see a blonde woman standing twenty feet away. Concerned, she walks closer to me before kneeling beside Warren and me, the knees of her pants becoming stained with his spilled blood on the alley ground. His wings are the first things that catch her focus, making me want to hold him closer.

"Please, don't hurt him," I beg her, my hand holding his hand a bit tighter. "He-he's a-" The woman cuts me off.

"He's a mutant," She points out, looking over at me. Still crying, I nod once, watching as a small smile appears on her face. Within a short second, the fair skin she once had transforms into blue flesh with darker blue scales, her eyes turning yellow and green while her hair changes into a much brighter orange/red.

"It's okay," She assures me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I am too, and I can help."

Her words, not to mention her sudden change of looks, shock me, but I nod at her, ready to do anything this woman says if it means saving Warren.

"Where's his family?" She asks me, her hand remaining on my shoulder as she kneels on the ground beside me.

"Me," I quickly answer her, tears still falling from my eyes. "I am his family."

"You're not a mutant," She points out, shaking her head with squinted eyes as she looks at me a bit confused. "And you care for him?"

"He's my best friend, the love of my life..." I answer her, my heart clenching as the words leave my lips. "Please, you have to help us!"

The woman nods, giving me a small, encouraging smile. "Kurt!" She abruptly yells, a teenage boy with blue skin and carvings appearing behind her with a blue puff of smoke following. I instantly recognize him as the other mutant in the pin with Warren earlier, and in spite of this, he doesn't try to get back at Warren while he's down.

Pulling his hand to get closer, she makes him get on our level before wrapping his arm around her and me. The stranger, Kurt, then wraps his other arm around Warren's almost lifeless body and tugs him a bit closer as well. "Get us all to the mansion nurse's ward - now!"

With the woman's last words, Kurt somehow does so, causing us to suddenly be in a nurse's station only a second later. This all confuses the living hell out of me, but with Kurt having a tail and red eyes, and not to mention blue skin like the lady, I don't know if I should be questioning the normalcy of anything at the moment.

Immediately, three scrubbed nurses rush up to where we are and pick Warren up from the ground. "He was shot, multiple times," The blue woman quickly explains, standing up from the ground. "He'll need blood, and you need to act quick."

Listening to her, the three nurses nod before taking an unconscious Warren back to what I could guess is surgery. Numb, I sit on the cold tile floor as I reach my blood-covered hands up to cross my arms and hold myself, my eyes stuck on the swinging doors that Warren was just carried through. Beside me is Kurt as he places a consoling hand on my shoulder, giving me a small smile.

"He vill be alright," Kurt assures me, his words helping me out a little. Giving him a small nod of my head, I take his held-out hand and stand up with him. "That is Raven, by the way," He adds as the woman from before moves to stand in front of me, taking my hand in hers despite it stained crimson.

"This is the Xavier mansion," She explains to me, "You're safe; we won't hurt you."

At her words, I nod. "I know," I tell her, giving her a small smile. "I trust you."

Smiling back at me, Mystique's eyes flicker behind me before her mouth slightly parts, her hand holding mine slightly faltering. "Who is this, Raven?" I hear a soft British voice speak up, causing me to slowly turn around and see a man in a wheelchair now in front of me. His eyes quickly catch my blood-covered hands and arms, shock taking over him. "Dear heavens, what happened to you, dear?"

I go to answer him, but my voice defeats me in doing so. Instead, Mystique speaks for me. "Charles, her and a fellow mutant were shot at in an alleyway when Kurt and I were passing by. He has wings, that's where most of the bullets hit him," She explains to him, "She has no ill will toward any of us - she just wants her boyfriend to survive."

A few seconds pass before the man, Charles, nods, staring at me with a frown. "I'm sorry to hear that, love," He tells me, giving me a single nod. "Raven, help her get cleaned up and fetch some fresh clothes for her as well," With that, Charles wheels himself out of the room and into the hallway where he enters the room at the end.

In a puff of blue smoke, Kurt leaves Mystique and me, letting us head to what I presume is her room where she wets a washcloth and begins rubbing the drying blood from my arms. "He will be alright," She tells me, saying Kurt's exact words from moments ago. "Trust me."

I nod at her words, but I can't believe them myself. What if Warren isn't okay? What if one of the bullets when through his spine and he's now paralyzed? I couldn't see all of his wounds so I don't know where they all hit him, minus the few I could see in his wings. What if the nurses and doctors can't do anything and he dies on the table? I can't bear to lose him - not again.

With my arms their original (s/c) color, I change into a pair of pajama pants and matching top with a school emblem given to me by Raven before walking with her to Charles' office. Stopping in front of his desk, Mystique and I watch as the man from earlier sits at his desk with his attention stuck on the novel stuck in his hands. However, it doesn't take long for him to notice our presence and put the book down with his glasses following.

"(Y/n), is it?" Charles asks me, turning his attention up to me. Surprised, I hesitantly nod as he speaks up once more. "No need to worry, dear," He assures me with a smile despite my caution. "I'm able to read minds and communicate through them as well," Charles further explains. "Raven and I were talking while she helped you with your arms and hands,"

"I understand you've been through a lot in the past hour, so I won't force you to talk about it," Charles tells me, making me let out a small sigh of relief. "But I am a bit concerned over the fact that you were in such a predicament that your partner was shot," Holding his hand out, Charles waits for me to place my hand in his. "I won't scour through your brain and look at everything you've ever seen or done - I just want to see what all transpired tonight."

Hesitating, I bite my lip in thought before shakily putting my hand in Charles, his touch being warm and welcoming. I feel as Charles does what he told me he would do, the images of the past month flashing before my eyes. Warren's disappearance, me finding him, and helping him get out are all shown before me like a home movie shot from my perspective. Because of this, I gasp a little, shocked at Charles' ability to do such a thing.

Slowly slipping his hand from mine, Charles' eyebrows furrow in thought before flashing his eyes up to mine, confusion written all over them. "You're a human with no powers or anything," He points out, slightly pausing in his words. "And yet, you've always loved a mutant?"

His words come out as a question, but to me, they're a true statement. I love Warren - I always have - and nothing about him will ever change that. "He's human just as I am," I tell Charles, giving him a small smile. "but, with wings," I further add, my smile growing sad as I lightly shrug. "How could I not love my angel?"

My words washing over him, Charles smiles back. "I like you," He tells me, Raven putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Your friend, I think he'll pull through. After all, he has a great incentive."

Because of Charles' words, I smile and give him a nod of thanks just as a question rises to my mind. "What... what is this place?" I ask, gesturing to the overall building. I know it has to be an establishment of some sort going by the built-in medical wing and wide hallways.

"This," Charles states, pointing his finger to the ceiling while his eyes remain on mine. "Is Xavier's a school for gifted youngsters," He informs me before nodding his head once. "This is a school specialized for children with mutations such as Warren, or Kurt, whom you met earlier."

Furrowing my eyebrows together, another question comes to mind. "Why have I never heard of this place before?" I ask, receiving a small smile.

"We're a relatively small school," Charles simply explains, "Ultimately, if your boyfriend would want to join, he could - now, you're not a mutant, but the unique and understanding attitude you give off, I'm sure we could work something out for you too."

His words make my cheeks turn pink in response to the compliment as I thank him, turning my eyes toward the ground as I try to fight the ever-growing smile on my lips. Just as I do this, I see Charles put a hand to his forehead as his eyebrows furrow before looking over at Mystique with a smile. "Raven, take her back to the medical ward," he tells the fiery-haired woman. "It seems that her friend was easily operable and now they're just waiting for him to wake up."

Almost immediately, I turn and follow Mystique out of the room with my pace just a little faster than hers. Soon enough, we walk through the doors and directly to the beds where only one of them is occupied, and the sleeping body in it is Warren's. The window behind him shines down on him with the bright and early morning sun highlighting his now washed and pure white wings that lie behind him. The sight is a complete contrast to what I saw only an hour ago with the almost black sky darkening everything around us and only emphasizing the dirt and grime that covered Warren's perfect wings.

"We told you he'd be okay," I hear Mystique's gentle voice beside me say, causing me to nod with an onrush of tears rising in my eyes. They were right, and my Warren is okay.

Moving closer to him, I sit beside Warren on the bed and take his hand in mine, his unconscious body unresponsive toward my touch and his perfect face never changing. "I'll let you two be alone," Mystique speaks up before doing as she says and walking back toward the door. Once I hear the swinging door shut, the tears residing in my eyes quickly fall over the barrier and down my face as I try to hold in my sobs.

When you love someone, you never want to see them in pain or hurting, and when they're laid up in a hospital bed with consciousness being a waiting game, it hurts you. It physically hurts you to the point where your chest feels heavy with dread, and your stomach feels sick with worry. It's terrible, and I wish there was something I could've done to protect Warren from getting shot.

"I'm so sorry," I sob, turning my eyes away from him and toward the floor. Raising my free hand to cover my mouth as the sobs tumble out, I don't notice Warren's hand gently squeezing mine until I feel the bed beneath me slightly moves.

Immediately looking back over to him, I see his eyes flutter open and quickly dart to me, confusion taking over his tired face as soon as he sees my crying form. "Why..." Warren slowly starts speaking, his voice raspy and scratchy with sleep. "Why are you crying, love?" He finishes his question, now trying to sit up.

"No, no, baby," I usher him to continue lying flat, moving to stand on my knee on the side of his bed before pushing his shoulders back down onto the mattress. Despite this, he still doesn't listen and moves to wrap his arms around me before pulling me fully onto the bed and holding me to his chest. Finally, Warren does lie back down, but in a matter of seconds, his wings are fluttering around me like any other time I'd be on top of him. My eyes quickly catch sight of the now bandaged wounds, and now that I get a better look, I see that there was one more bullet-wound than I initially thought. "Warren, your stitches!"

"It's okay, love," He sleepily responds, leaning his head back to look up at me with a happy face. "I'm so damn happy to see you," Warren confesses, his eyes gazing over me as if I were a precious gem.

If it weren't for the nurses cleaning the dirt from his face and body, I wouldn't have been able to assess the full damage the fighting ring did to him. Above his left eye is a healing bruise that covers a majority of the side of his forehead, and his bottom lip is split, making it swollen. On top of all of that, his green eyes are sunken in and practically taken over by dark circles.

Still, he continues staring at me, acting as if nothing is bothering him until a look of confusion fall over his face. "Now, are you going to tell me why you were crying?" Warren repeats his question from earlier, making me shake my head as more tears rise to my eyes.

"You almost died, Warren," I inform him, his face still unchanging. "I've been without you for three damn months, and the night I get you back, I almost lost you again - for good!" I add on, raising a hand to wipe away my fast-falling tears.

However, Warren beats me to it and places his hands against my cheeks where he gently holds me, his face now soft. I guess he hasn't assessed the severity of the situation. That, or he hasn't taken the time to fully realize that he has stitched-up bullet wounds adorning his wings.

"I'm sorry," Warren apologizes after a few seconds of silence. Despite expecting those two words, it still doesn't hit me any easier as I'm sobbing once again, this time, into Warren's chest.

Holding me close, Warren waits a few moments before moving his hands back to my face and turning me to look at him directly. As soon as he gets the chance, Warren places his rough lips on top of mine, the skin chapped from the harsh things he's been put through. Despite crying moments ago, my tears ultimately stop as I come to the realization of how much I've missed the feeling of Warren's lips on mine. Chapped or not, his lips are the pure definition of Heaven, and when they're on top of mine, it's like pure ecstasy.

Pulling away for air, I pant above Warren as he does the same, his hands now sliding down to grip my waist once again. "I love you," He tells me, "And I've missed you- God, how I've missed you," Warren adds, shaking his head as a small, almost unnoticeable tear falls down his cheek. "Each day was hell without you, and I can't be without you, not again."

Smiling at him, I lean down once more and peck his soft cheek before nuzzling my head next to his on the pillow, his hold on me never changing in the slightest. "You won't have to, Angel," I tell him, watching his lips quirk up in a smile at my nickname for him. Deciding on leaving the explanation of where we're at for later, I close my eyes alongside Warren and fall asleep, finally able to relax knowing he and I can be together with no one to stop or hurt us.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fanfic #ben jones #ben hardy x fem reader #ben hardy fluff #roger taylor imagines #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington iii imagines #warren worthington imagine #warren worthington imagines #warren worthington iii imagine #warren worthington iii

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illfoandillfie · 4 months

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Heyy, i know this is so cheesy and such a trope but can i request 'stuck in a lift' in maybe like a fancy hotel where queen are hosting an afterparty, reader is somehow connected to the band and obviously fancies rog despite thinking he's a bit obnoxious, is heading up to bed, and Roger is going to get something from his room, when bad, they are stuck in the enclosed space for quite some time leading too... 😆

Blurb Advent 2023: Day 21

Okay i've had a vague notion of writing a stuck in a lift fic for like years because someone had requested one when i was doing blurbs another time but i didn't really know what to do with it. So thank you for giving me a reason to think about stuck lifts again! Your ideas were perfect and exactly the jumping off point I needed to actually write it!

Warnings: Roger the flirt, it ends before the real smut because otherwise it would have been too long, so apologies for that, but references to p in v sex and oral sex and handjobs/fingering,

If someone had told you that you’d be attending Queen’s end of tour party, you’d never have believed it. Of course it wasn’t really so mad to suggest you’d get your name on the list. Your dad worked as a roadie, specifically on Queen’s latest tour, so you had an in. The problem was he could be a little protective of you, even though you were a grown woman. Especially around hot young musicians who liked to flirt with anything in a skirt AKA Roger Taylor. As it was when he’d brought you backstage to meet the band he’d watched Roger closely. You’d gotten a bit of a tour of the stage and all the work that went on behind the scenes and Roger had even shown you what the interior of the tour bus looked like. It had made your brain whirl with ideas of what might happen there but those thoughts were dampened by your dad standing to the side glaring daggers at Roger whenever he so much as breathed in your direction. It was a shame since Roger was easily the cutest of the band and the one you found easiest to talk to. He could be a little bit obnoxious sometimes but he was usually sweet and funny. If you were being honest, you were a little pissed your dad had probably scared him off. You wouldn’t have minded something happening if the chance arose, but that wasn’t likely to if he’d been warned off. All the same, once your dad had invited you, you were determined to have fun. Even if you didn’t get to make out with the drummer.

You’d gotten there a little early so you could check in, dump your bags and get changed before heading down to the rapidly filling party. The glitz of it all was almost overwhelming. The band had coopted their hotel’s event spaces entirely, people milling between the three halls and spilling into the main foyer. You were suddenly very thankful your dad had been able to get you a room for the night otherwise you might have been tempted to hookup with someone just to make the night a little easier.

The party ended up being a lot of fun. You ran into a few people you knew – roadies you’d met through your dad, girls who hung around the band – some of them groupies, some not. You had a few drinks, danced for a bit, talked to whoever you bumped into. You even managed to run into all of the boys during the course of the night. Freddie, life of the party as always, was surrounded by a group of people you didn’t know but he pulled you over all the same just to check that you were having a good time. The other three were almost as equally sought after so you barely got to say more than a few words to each before they were whisked off. Still, it was a good night as you bounced around from room to room, taking drinks from the roving waiters, turning down lines from the party animals. But, by one in the morning you’d had your fill. The party was in full swing though the guests had dwindled a little. But you felt as if you’d drunk enough and danced enough and talked to enough people. Making your way across the foyer you bid a few people goodnight and grabbed the first lift heading upstairs. Once inside you breathed a sigh of relief that it was miraculously empty. But that didn’t last long. The doors were beginning to shut when you heard someone call out for you to hold the door. For half a second you contemplated pretending you hadn’t heard but you manners won out and you were glad they had. Roger Taylor was jogging towards you.

He looked a little worse for wear but bright eyed and bushy tailed nonetheless. “Thanks,” he puffed, a little out of breath, “These things take ages for the next one to come,” “No problem. Good party?” “Yeah really good, might be the best we’ve had. You leaving already?” You laughed, “Well not all of us have tour buses we can sleep on while we’re driven around. I have to get myself home in the morning.” He hummed, “You might have more brains than the rest of us then. Sensible girl.” “What are you doing then?” “Oh, getting a pack of smokes. Must have left them in my other jacket and no one wanted to bum me one. Something about me being rich enough to afford my own.” You giggled at Roger’s less than subtle brag. Coming from him it didn’t sound quite as arseholeish as it might have from someone else. Roger was an easy conversationalist and you were happily chatting about what he’d be doing now the tour was over when the elevator made a strange grinding noise. “Well that makes tot- fuck that was a weird nosie.” You said, glancing up at the roof though there was nothing noteworthy there.” Roger seemed as if he were about to say something, hopefully reassuring, when the whole lift jolted and everything went dark.” “What the fuck?” You asked the black space where Roger had been a second before. “Don’t worry,” his voice said from the darkness, “probably just a problem with the electrics in the building. It’s an old hotel and the party’s lighting is probably fucking with things.” “Yeah, you’re probably right,” you said, feeling a little spooked all the same. “They’ll have a backup generator, probably just takes a minute to switch over though.” You counted the seconds in your head as both of you waited to see if he was right and then let out a sigh of relief when moments later the lights flickered back on, though a little dimmer than before. The lift didn’t move but you weren’t too worried. The mechanism probably forgot what floor it was heading to with the power reset and just needed the button pressed again. Roger must have had the same train of thought because he leaned over and hit his floor’s number again. “Get floor 10 for me will you?” “Fuck,” “Yeah good one,” you laughed, “we stuck are we?” Roger turned, for once seeming a little fazed, “Uhh, I think we might be.” “Please tell me you’re joking,” You stepped around him so you could reach the buttons yourself and began hammering the tenth floor button. “I wouldn’t joke about this. But it’s okay, there's an emergency help button. Someone will come for us soon.” You felt less reassured when he pressed it an absolutely nothing happened, “Is it meant to do...nothing?” “I don’t actually know. I was expecting more but maybe it just sets off an alarm somewhere?” He looked over to you, “You’re not claustrophobic are you?” You shook your head. “Okay, good. We might be in here for a little while.” Roger shrugged, back to his usual unflappable self.

“No. No, we can’t be stuck in here.” You moved towards the door and banged a fist against it. Roger watched as he slid down to sit on the floor in the corner. You banged a few more times until Roger finally told you to stop. “People will come when they come. We’ve done all we can. Just sit.” “Jesus Christ. I can’t believe I’m going to die in a dodgy lift with Roger Taylor.” “We’re not going to die, don’t be dramatic. And I’m a little offended thank you very much. There are worse people you could be stuck here with. At least I’m easy on the eyes.” You rolled your eyes before sitting down against the back wall beside Roger. Roger laughed at your reaction, “You’re not bad yourself, by the way. So, y’know, there are ways we could kill some time...” his hand stroked against your calf and you jolted like he’d given you a static shock. “Are you really hitting on me? Now? While we’re stuck in a broken lift?” “Well why not? Just us, a bit of mood lighting, and who knows how long it’ll take them to find us...” his hand rose a little higher. “Aren’t you scared my dad’ll kick your arse?” “Oh terrified. He's much stronger than me. But, well, that’s the beauty of being trapped in here alone. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, or make him hurt me. You laughed again, feeling calmer. “I’m being serious, in case I wasn’t clear. I’ve not hit on you properly out of respect, and maybe fear of your father, but I do think you’re fit. And I think fucking would be a fun way to kill some time in here.” You weren’t really sure what to say so settled for just staring instead. Roger took that as encouragement, “I don’t have any condoms on me but I promise I’ve not got anything. I’m also, not to sound too up myself, a fucking good lay. And I suspect you’ve thought about shagging me before in which case I’d be more than happy to show you my cock for real. It won’t be the most comfortable fuck ever but it’ll be fun and take out mind off our current predicament and we can always move it to my room once we’re out of here. You were still gobsmacked, “I don’t know what to say.” “If it’s the condom thing putting you off I’m happy just to do mouth or hand stuff. Or if you don’t want to do anything that’s fine too, we can find something to talk about instead. But who knows how long we’ll be waiting.” “I’m....fuck it, okay.” Roger broke out into a grin, “I knew you were into me. You definitely wanna?” “Nothing fucking else to do is there,” you laughed, scooting a little closer to Roger, not quite sure how he wanted to go about it.

Roger shifted forward too, angling himself to be in a better position so he could cup your cheek and lean in for a kiss. “Hey,” there was a bang against the door that made you jump apart before your lips had even touched, “You okay in there?” Roger sighed and let his hand drop before he answered, “Yeah, we’re okay.” “Just sit tight, we’ll have you out a jiffy.” “Terrible timing,” you murmured and Roger laughed derisively. There was a lot of talk and banging from the other side and Roger’s gaze flicked in its direction, back to you, to the door again. He shrugged when he next looked at you, “Fuck it, we’ve got time.” His hand was on your cheek again and he was pulling you close, stealing your breath as his lips landed on yours.

The kiss continued until a particularly loud bang reminded you that people would be bursting in imminently. But you didn’t want it to end at all. You wanted to keep kissing Roger, for as long as you could, more if he was still up for it. “Y’know,” you said softly, glancing at the door to make sure no one was about to burst in, “Being trapped in a broken lift if a good excuse for an early night. Maybe we could continue this in your room?” Roger raised his eyebrow at you but then grinned again, “I like the way you think.” You had just enough time to smile conspiratorially before a loud scraping sound made you scramble to your feet and you saw the doors being forced open.

#my writing #my blurbs #blurb advent 2023 #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #i could maybe be convinced to do a part 2 at some point in the new year

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rogertaylorshbb · 1 year

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"poor thing" roger Taylor fanfic

sorry I haven't written in 10 days, just been busy with school!! i hope you enjoy this, it was inspired by a photo I saw on tumblr of roger pouring milk for a cat.

you sat down with your favorite magazine on a lazy Sunday. you finally got to relax after all the running around you did all week. you opened the magazine when you heard something. "meowww" a quiet meow called out from your left. you turned your head looking for the cat that was making the sound but your eyes saw nothing.

your head then slowly went down to your magazine, then again you heard the meow, you looked saw nothing, then again, then again, then again. the 6th time you heard the meow you snapped.

"where the fuck is that coming from" you whispered annoyingly shutting your magazine. you got up a glanced outside and that's when you saw the cat. the poor little cat had its paw stuck in a crack on the fence.

"awwww, poor little thing" you said walking over to the cat. you began to very slowly pull the cats paw out. it hissed but you eventually got it out. the cat must of had a good feel about you and started to purr at you.

"what's all that racket y/n!" roger called out walking outside. he looked at you and smiled, "y/n, before you ask, we are not keeping it"

you had a look of disappointment on your face, you were gonna ask him that but then again it probably wasn't a great idea. "roger is mean" you said in a baby voice to that cat "no mean roger" you laughed putting on a pout face. "shut up" he chuckled going back inside to watch television.

you picked up the cat and carried it inside, you then had a look at its paw, wasn't anything major, just a small scrap. you cleaned it up which the cat didn't at all like. you knew that cleaning it up still wasn't gonna heal it so you were gonna take it to the shelter.

you carried the cat in your arms over to were roger was sitting. "hey rog" you giggled with the cat in your arms.

roger rolled his eyes "I'm trying to watch the ascent of man, y/n please get that cat away" "meanie" you whispered to the cat.

"well I need to ask a big favor, I'm just gonna head out for 5 minutes-"

"y/n c'mon" he interrupted

"just listen, just 5 minutes, I need to get balloons for Freddie's birthday, john asked me, ill be back i promise, I need you to hold the cat, she's hurt" you explained.

he rolled his eyes and picked up the cat with a disgusting face, placing it down on his lap. you then grabbed your keys and ran out.

*20 minutes later*

you had taken longer then you expected, but picking out the color was hard, you felt as if you had to pick everyone, you eventually just went for the yellow. you opened the door and turned to rogers chair where he watched the tv. he wasn't there, so where else could he be. you then walked in to the kitchen to see something that made you giggle.

you witnessed roger patting and pouring milk into the bowl for the cat, smiling to himself. "roger" you said. he jumped. "uhhhhh, I'm just- I'm just- the cat was being annoying so I-" he stuttered

"just admit you like the cat rog" you chuckled throwing the balloons on the table coming to bend down next to him.

I know this a bit shorter then the ones i normally write, sorry, but I'm planning on writing a long one on Friday!! hope you like this cute short one.

@sarcastic-sourwolf

#roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fan fic #roger taylor x reader #queen fanfiction #queen band #queen smut #funny cats #fan fic #fluff

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brian-roger-deaky-and-fred · 2 years

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Bed Rest (Roger Taylor x Reader)

Summary: When Roger's final calls for him to give a medical exam to a patient of his choice, his sleepy, sweet little roommate (Y/N) is more than willing to help.

Warnings: Curse Words, Mentions of a Mean Ex-Boyfriend, Slight Nakedness?, Pining, Fluff, Mentions of Body Insecurity

A/N: I wrote this a long while ago for a friend but never got around to giving it to her!! Well she's not feeling well today so I figured it was a good time :^) I love you, darling. (I'll get a read more cut on this asap!!)

P.S. I GET TO GO TO A QUEEN CONCERT TOMORROW. I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE EXCITED FOR ANYTHING.

************************

Roger was stumped from the moment his professor had passed out the packet. It sounded simple enough, sure. A full practice exam on a patient of his choice. It'd be an easy test grade for him. That is, if he could find a patient.

He'd wracked his brain. It's not like he could ask any of the boys to be his subject. I mean, he technically could, but he sure as hell wouldn't be able to look any of them in the eye again after performing a thorough medical exam. God knows he couldn't ask any of his family members. Somehow, that seemed even worse. He even had a handful of ex girlfriends he'd considered choosing from, but decided that in all honesty, he'd rather take a failing grade.

He'd thought on it for a week now, habitually ignoring the assignment whenever it drifted to the front of his mind. But now, it was Sunday night, and his report was due the next morning. He chewed his thumb as he scanned his biology textbook, rubbing his shoulder nervously with his free hand.

"What's wrong?"

Roger's neck ached when he turned around to look at you, and he suddenly realized how long he'd been stuck hunched over his coursework. He smiled softly to himself as you carefully sat down a mug of tea in front of him.

"What do you mean?" He hummed, shoulders clicking as he stretched his arms up above his head. He reached for his drink with a little groan.

Taking one last sip, you rested your mug beside his and brushed his mussed hair back a bit, revealing the collar of his tshirt. He was confused for a moment until you gently pulled the neck of his shirt to reveal his collarbone, red from the constant friction of his rough fingertips. Your brow furrowed, "You're rubbing yourself red, bub."

Roger's chest felt light at the thought of you looking after him. He smiled softly, giving your hand a little appreciative squeeze. " 'm alright, lovie. I promise. 've just got a project due tomorrow and I haven't even started." He sighed, tossing the packet onto his textbook.

You frowned, sitting beside him at the table and fetching the papers, skimming through them. "What all needs done?"

Roger smiled again, to himself. You'd been overworked yourself, recently. Three papers due that week as well as a test. This had been your first free day in a long while, yet here you were, ready to help.

"It's not a hard assignment. I basically just need to give a physical. The thing is, all the volunteer spots were full in the clinic. Don't really have a subject." He sighed, raking a hand through his already disheveled hair.

Your eyes scanned the paper again as he sighed.

"If it were just a check up I'd just ask one of the boys or something, you know? But it's...it's just a lot. I don't know. Pretty...intimate?"

Your eyes went wide at the word. You swallowed thickly, "Intimate?"

"Well, 's nothing weird, I suppose. 's all normal practice. Just stuff that makes you a bit squirmy, I think."

Your eyes caught on the list. Throat. Ears. Mouth. Eyes. Nose. Everything seemed pretty run of the mill until you reached the last note of the bunch. Pelvic. Your pulse sped a bit at the thought. His warm, rough hands carefully feeling over your tummy and hips.

Your stomach churned. You'd been Roger's roommate for nearly four years now, and his best friend for far longer. He'd had girls over plenty of times. It had never really bothered you to accidentally walk in on a drunken makeout or see a girl on her way out the morning after. That is, until one afternoon you'd come home from class to find him sitting on the couch, a girl fast asleep across his lap with her forehead snuggled in against his neck. He toyed with her hair passively and traced shapes over her skin as he gave you an apologetic smile. "Sorry..." he'd whispered. "She's hungover. Too poorly to go on just yet. I promise I won't let her stay long."

Something in you felt crushed at the sight. Why couldn't you have that? Why couldn't you doze off in his lap and let him hold you tight and play with your hair? Why couldn't he draw soft little shapes over your skin?

It'd been so long since you'd felt gentle, loving touches. It'd been so long since you'd been taken care of. You were starved for it. And now, the opprotunity had been dropped in front of you. Roger was looking for someone to take care of.

"I...I'm...."

Roger's blue eyes met yours, his brow raising.

"I can do it...with you..."

His stomach flipped. "Hm?"

You swallowed thickly, cheeks quickly going red. "Y-Your project, I mean." You couldn't read his expression, and you were starting to crumble in on yourself a bit until his voice broke your train of thought.

"You would do that?" He could see your blush now, warming your cheeks and the tops of your ears. "You wouldn't mind it?"

You gave a little shrug, your muscles starting to relax just now that you knew he wasn't laughing at you. "Want to help you...I wouldn't mind it I don't think. Haven't had a check up in a long time."

"I wanted to ask you", He admitted. "You were the first person I thought of, actually I just...I don't know. Felt a bit tone deaf."

You crooked your brow, though you were relieved that you were someone he'd actually considered. "Tone deaf?"

"Well yeah, I..." He shrugged, and you could've sworn you saw his cheeks go pink too. "I just...We'd talked in the past about how Daniel was an ass to you about your body... Didn't want to ask you to take off your shirt or be vulnerable for me after you've dealt with all that, hm?"

Your heart ached. You'd forgotten you'd told him about Daniel. You found yourself surprised he'd remembered something so trivial as an offhanded complaint you'd made about your ex boyfriend.

In Roger's mind, it'd been hard to forget. He'd hated Daniel from the moment you'd started dating him, and while surely some of that hate could be attributed to jealousy, most if it came from the soft sobs Roger would hear coming from your room after your night's out with him. Daniel always had some little sharp edged comment to make about what you were eating or how you looked. Roger had nearly flinched the first time he'd heard Daniel scold you, knowing exactly how deep his comments would really cut.

"I'd do it for you." Roger was pulled from his memory by your tiny, shy voice. "Don't think I'd be so scared with you."

"You're sure?"

You thought for a moment. Was this a good idea? Definitely not. But somehow, you were desperate enough risk embarrassing yourself.

"Yeah. Wanna help."

He gave a grateful smile, flipping through the pages of the packet. "I promise I'll try and make sure it's over quickly, alright? Just a check up." He said this, mostly for his own sanity. Just a quick check up, right? It's routine. No reason for his heart to race or his ears to heat up. "Do you wanna go sit on my bed? And I'll meet you in there? Just have to grab my kit."

You nodded quickly, trying to cool your cheeks down a bit as you wandered off to his room.

This wasn't so bad. His room. You'd been in Roger's room with him loads of times. It was small and cozy and warm and it smelled like him. You could look at all the photos and posters and magazine clippings he'd stuck to the walls every which way. You sat on his worn comforter nervously, before giving in and laying down on his bed, your head snuggled into his pillow. Gosh he smelled good.

He always came home so beaten after shows, only sparing enough energy to lazily wash off before he fell into his unmade bed. So many times you'd thought about how nice it'd be to kiss him to sleep, then. To press your lips to the water droplets that scattered over his belly and hips. To comb through his wet locks with your fingers and smell traces of his body wash on his still-flushed skin.

This was close enough, for now, though. Drifting off in his bed, imagining him cradling your face...cooing your name softly...

But you weren't imagining it. Your eyes fluttered open for a minute to find your roommate there before you, grazing your cheek with his thumb and trying to wake you softly. His voice was sweet, and he had a sympathetic smile. "Sleepy thing...you want me to let you rest, sweetheart?"

"No..." you hummed softly. "Don' go." You held his hand to your face as if you were worried he'd run off. "Just got comfortable is all."

Roger smiled to himself. What a sight to find you curled up on his bed, your head resting against his pillows. He could get used to that.

" 's alright, lamb. You can stay cozy. We'll be quick, I promise."

He squeezed your hand where you still held his before thumbing through the packet he'd been given. He squinted at it for a moment before frowning and sighing, pulling his glasses out of his pocket and sliding them onto his nose. He didn't notice your pleased smile at this development as he skimmed the page.

"Alright..." you watched his pen as he quickly jotted down the information he already knew; Your full name, age, and birthday. He passed you the pen, "Do you want to write down your weight? I promise I won't look if you don't want me to. Or we could just skip it if you'd rather?"

Your chest ached at his desperation for you to feel comfortable. You gave him a grateful smile and took the pen, scribbling down an estimate. He returned the smile with one that read as both thankful and reassuring, and continued down the list of questions.

"Ok. Interview's over. I promise." He clicked his pen, rolling his eyes in a way that made you hum a giggle. "Just going to run through this checklist now. Is that ok? Look you over?"

You nodded sweetly, his thumb grazing over the back of your hand soothingly.

"How have you been feeling lately, sweetheart?" He said it so earnestly you couldn't tell if he was asking for the exam or if he was truly just checking in on you.

" 'm alright." You yawned. "Been a bit tired from school and all but that's normal, I think." He nodded, scribbling something down.

"Nothing's been hurting you?"

You could have let him dote over you forever. "I mean, I've been a bit anxious. Maybe a headache or a tummy ache here or there but nothing terrible."

" 'm sorry, love." He hummed under his breath as he noted that, and you barely heard him. "Any muscle soreness?"

"Only if I sleep wrong."

You giggled weakly and his heart fluttered at the sound, "Christ, don't I know it." He shook his head. "I wake up feeling bloody geriatric after shows."

You frowned slightly at the idea of him in pain, but he didn't seem too phased as he dug through his bag, pulling out a little reflex hammer and helping you sit up a bit.

"Ok, darling. This won't hurt. Just gonna let you kick me around for a bit eh?" He chuckled and you smiled, watching carefully as he gently tapped a spot on your right kneecap, making your reflex fire. "Good." He cooed, checking off something on the paper before testing your left as well. "Very nice, love."

He gently tucked the little hammer away, before holding out his hands to you.

"Ok sweetheart...I'm gonna hold your hands ok? And I'm going to press up on them. Keep me from lifting them ok? Just push down."

You nodded, pressing down against his hands as he pressed up against yours.

"Good! That's my girl." He grinned. You tried to hide your blush, but were unsure if you'd managed.

He tried the same test in a few other spots and made a note under the little header reading "Musculo-Skeletal" before turning the page. He pulled his stethoscope from his bag,

"I'm sure you're acquainted with this hm?"

You nodded, "You'll listen to my heart?

"And your lungs. Just making sure everything's sounding nice in there." He warmed up the bell on the his sleeve, "Can I tuck this under your shirt collar? Have a listen?"

You laid back for him, allowing him to slip a hand beneath your shirt to press the scope against your heart. You couldn't help the happy, relaxed sigh that escaped you at the feeling of his warm hand on your heart. In all honesty, you were too sleepy to realize that you'd even made a sound in the first place. Again, Roger's tummy flipped. He brushed some baby hairs back from your forehead lovingly and smiled to himself. "That's it, darling. Take those nice deep breaths for me."

You tried to steady your breathing out and think of things not involving the pretty blonde boy beside you, seeing as he could hear your actively rising heartrate. If he noticed, he didn't say anything, but his cheeks were sweet and rosy as he untucked his hand from your collar and wrote something down.

"Perfect...."

You watched his blue eyes focus in as he wrote, his brow furrowing as he made note of your caffeine intake, which he already knew.

"Rog?"

"Hm?" He glanced up to see your sleepy, enamoured face, and he couldn't help but wish he could hold you. Wish he could crawl right into bed and watch those pretty eyes grow heavier and heavier until you couldn't keep them open any longer.

You yawned, "Can I listen to your heart too?"

His eyebrows raised, heart melting. "Of course love...here. Let me just-" He went to find his stethoscope again in his bag, but before he could, you'd crawled in close to him to rest your head against his chest. He wondered momentarily if you'd heard his heart stop. He relaxed into you, wrapping his arms around you for a moment to hold you while you listened. He felt you breathe a laugh into his sweater and he smirked, pulling back a few inches to look at you. "What is it?"

"Sounds just like your drumming."

Roger laughed, giving you a good squeeze and a little kiss on your forehead. Your eyes meet his and your tummy flipped.

He smiled sofly, brushing through your hair with his fingers. "This next part is a bit more... intimate. Is that ok? We don't have to do it at all if you aren't comfortable. Don't want to make you feel bad."

Part of you wanted to run and hide. The other part of you was just too curious. Too desperate to be looked after by the pretty boy holding you on his chest.

"I...I wanna try it."

He rubbed your back soothingly. "Ok darling. Just let me know right away if you change your mind and we'll stop ok?"

You nodded obediently, squirming a bit at the eye contact.

"Alright...do you..um....do you think you can undress for me love? Down to your bra and panties? " A familiar ache formed low in your tummy. You never thought you'd be hearing Roger's voice asking you to undress for him. Again, you nodded, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt nervously.

"Do you want me to turn my back, honey?"

"N-No it's ok. I'm ok."

Roger tried to get himself to look away, but he couldn't help but let his eyes trail over your soft tummy and breasts as you pull off your shirt, revealing your bra to him. He'd seen that one come through the wash several times. He never thought he'd get to see it on you.

The blush on your face had slowly started traveling down your chest to your tummy as you unbuttoned your pants, and it took everything in Roger not to groan when you pushed your jeans down off your hips to expose your ass and thighs. He was pulled from his thoughts before he could get himself too worked up though, as you got tangled in the fabric and fell backwards from your knees, flat onto his bed. You giggled and he grinned, enjoying the sound of your laugh and helping you pull them the rest of the way off of your shins and over your ankles.

He saw you give a shiver and chew your thumbnail nervously and he quickly grabbed the corner of his comforter, tugging it up around your shoulders so you could snuggle into it. "Ok...I'm supposed to be identifying pulse points. Does that sound alright?"

You nodded, snug and cozy in his blankets. His heart felt melty at the sight.

"Ok. I'm going to start up here with temporal...lay back for me darling...that's it."

Carefully, he guided your head back to rest against his pillow. You let him hold your face in his hands as he ever so gently felt around your temples with his ring and middle finger. He looked so pretty and focused there, and he held you like that for a moment, feeling your heartbeat.

"Good, sweetheart." He put a check on his list. "Moving down to facial, and carotid."

His fingers trailed down your face lightly to tenderly press just below your jaw. Everything in you wanted to whimper and arch into his touches, but you managed to ignore the urge. He placed another check down on his paper before moving to cradle your neck.

"This is a sensitive spot, so tell me if it hurts, ok?"

Holding your neck with one hand, Roger grazed two of his fingers along your sternum, pressing them carefully along your collarbone. It didn't hurt. Just a light pressure, right against your throat. " 's that hurting?"

"N-No..." you whispered, not quite trusting your voice.

"Good..." Roger swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the ache in his stomach.

He continued down your chest, feeling the pulse below your breast as well as the ones down your arms. He paused for a moment when he saw the last on his list, his cheeks going rosy.

"What is it?" You cooed, taking his hand in your little one. Warmth bloomed across his chest and he felt a tug at the corners of his mouth.

"This last one is um...well...it's right here." Roger sat up on his knees to show you the spot... Right along his thigh below his stomach. Oh.

"Oh..."

He scratched his neck, about to just shake off the whole idea and mark that one off the list, when you spread your legs ever so slightly for him.

He took a little breath, surprised. "Oh love, we can just mark it off if you'd like. Are you sure? "

You nodded, yawning again. Perhaps normally you'd have a bit more energy to be embarrassed or insecure, but right now? You were all his. Completely malleable. You were sleepy and his hands were warm and he always hummed the sweetest little words of encouragment as he worked. He could have touched you wherever he'd liked and you wouldn't have minded it. You knew Roger would take care of you.

You tugged at the waistband of your panties a bit, "Need t' take 'em off?"

His stomach jumped and he caught your hand, rubbing his thumb over your wrist as he gave your hip a squeeze. "No no 's alright sweetheart. Just lay back for me. I'll be quick."

You nodded and rubbed your eyes, wiggling a bit to get comfy again. Roger paused for a moment, letting his eyes trace over your chest and your pretty little tummy...just soft enough to make you warm and grabable. God and your hips...Roger could have written sonnets about your hips and your thighs. He could've spent hours admiring your soft arms and your back and the little freckles that dotted you here and there and-

He shook his head, clearing his throat as he thumbed at the waistband of your underwear. "Ok, love. I've got you. Just lay nice and still for me alright?"

You took his free hand in yours and held it loosely. Carefully, Roger tapped the crease of your thigh, "Right here. Can I slide my fingers under your panties, love?"

You nodded, watching him with hooded eyes. He swallowed thickly, pushing his fingers inside the leg hole of your underwear and feeling your heartbeat against your skin. "Doing so well for me, honey." He whispered, counting the beats in his head. Finally, he pulled his fingers from your panties and scribbled down a number and a check mark.

"Alright love. You can get your shirt back on." He smiled, giving your leg a squeeze.

You sat up on your elbows, glancing around the bed and frowning as you searched for your top. Roger chucked as you looked under the pillows and blankets. You frowned, defeated, and crossed your arms.

"Aw lamb..." He laughed softly at the scene, "You want one of mine?"

Just as he'd expected, your pretty eyes lit up a bit and you nodded. He grinned to himself, getting up to retrieve an old tshirt from his dresser and toss it to you.

Your hair mussed when you pulled it on, and god, he wanted to kiss you and muss it even more. He had definitely had a dream like this before; you in his bed wearing nothing but his shirt and your panties, sleepy and happy and waiting for him.

Yes. Waiting for him.

Roger cleared his throat and pulled a little pen light from his bag, "Alright, sweetheart, I'm gonna have you follow this light with your eyes, not your head. Sound alright?" You nodded sweetly, looking very small in his old shirt.

He watched you carefully as you followed the light, realizing quickly how heavy your eyes were getting. You were good for him nonetheless, answering little questions about when the light left your sight and which finger he was wiggling in your peripheral vision. He set his papers down when he saw you fighting to keep your eyes open, clicking off the light and climbing onto the bed.

"Whats wrong?" You hum, concerned you'd somehow misunderstood his directions.

"Nothings wrong, angel. We're just gonna get you tucked in, hm?"

He slowly guided your shoulders to lay you down on the mattress, combing through your hair with his fingers and he fluffed his pillow for you.

"B-But we aren't done yet....not done Rog..."

He chuckled at your little frown. "Sure we are."

"You never looked at my tummy." You pouted sleepily, concerned that he hadn't gotten what he needed, but more so wanting him to keep touching you. "Or my ears."

He smiled amusedly, gently coaxing your head to turn slightly to the left and right before cradling your face where you lay, his thumb tracing your jaw.

"They're very pretty ears." He stated matter of factly, pretending to scribble it down.

"Rog..." You wanted to keep going for him. You wanted to be a good patient like he said.

"Hey, I'll keep going, love, but you still have to lay down for me ok? Try and rest?"

You nodded obediently and god you looked so pretty all laid out for him. You took his hand, laying it on your belly encouragingly as you gave yet another yawn.

He giggled sneaking a hand beneath your shirt to rub your hip sweetly. " 's it ok if I touch you here, lamb?" He grazed the bend of his knuckle up and down the center of your tummy and you squirmed, nodding.

You let your eyes rest as his hands held your hips, his thumbs gently pressing inward to feel in a circle around your hip bones. He used two fingers to carefully press down right below your belly button before gently feeling around the spot. You whimpered softly.

' 's that hurt?" He whispered, still examining you.

"No." You squeaked, "No 'm ok."

He hummed a chuckle softly to himself, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Felt nice?"

You give a little "Yes", too blissed out by the feeling on his warm hands to care about being embarrassed. Your eyes fluttered as you heard him write something down. He fished his otoscope from his bag and flipped it on, scooting closer to gently cradle your face again.

"Gonna look at your brain, now." You giggled, turning your head for him to take a look in your ears. "I should be having you look in my ears, really." He hummed softly as he peered through the scope. "Hearing's gone to shit from the drums."

" 's not as bad as your eyes, though." You teased, pushing his glasses up on his nose where they'd, once again, drifted down.

He laughed, turning your head to the other side. "My eyes have gone to shit, hearing's busted...My bones are always aching. I lose my voice once or twice a week. I'm falling apart, aren't I?"

"No..." you cooed softly as he put away the otoscope, and looked him in the eye again. "Just need someone to look after you."

"That's a hard job." His heart fluttered as he held your face again, moving down to gently feel your lymph nodes. You crooned into his touch.

"Not all that hard..." you yawned, eyes once again growing heavy. "Not for someone who loves you."

He smiled. You'd said it so surely. As if there wasn't a doubt in your mind that he was worth taking care of.

"Come're sweetheart." He whispered, cheeks still bright pink. He helped you sit up, guiding you to straddle his legs and settle in his lap. "Now normally this would be done on an exam table, of course." He chuckled softly. "But for now, just give me a big hug, ok? Just relax into me."

He barely got the words out before you'd snuggled up in his arms, giving him perfect access to feel and examine your neck and back.

His hands were gentle as he worked, knowing you often got sore around your neck and shoulders after longer days. You squirmed and whimpered a bit as his fingers grazed your tensed up muscles.

" 's that hurt?" He frowned against your temple.

"No...m jus' tense. I'm ok."

He didn't fight you, though he knew it was hurting you, and instead slowly rubbed small, light circles over the spot. It was uncomfortable at first, but quickly you relaxed into his body warmth as he worked the knots from your shoulders. You fidgeted ever so slightly at the hurt, but melted and cooed softly at the relief it gave you.

"That's my girl..." he sighed, giving you a moment recover from the sensitivity. He kissed your head softly. He wished he could paint. You looked like an angel, warm and soft and perfect.

You finally nodded off after a few minutes, and Roger carefully snuck a hand beneath the back of your shirt to unclasp your bra, maneuvering the straps off your arms without exposing you. "There we are." He whispered, laying you down against his mattress tenderly. Your eyes fluttered as he tossed it off of his bed. "Bet that's a bit more comfy hm?" You nodded, giving a little stretch and holding his hand tight in yours.

"Did...did you finish?" You croaked sweetly, looking up at him with drowsy eyes.

He grinned fondly at you, amazed you were still worried about the exam as you continued to fight to stay awake for him. "I did, silly girl. Check up's over and I've made my diagnosis."

"What's that?" His hair looked so soft and fluffed. Curly. He must have just washed it the night before.

"I'm afraid I'll have to prescribe bed rest. Quite a bit. And a good dinner when you wake up."

You giggled and yawned, but fowned a bit as he tucked his glasses into his back pocket.

He chuckled at your pout, "What's wrong?"

You felt childish, but it all seemed very important in your exhausted brain. "You're so pretty in your glasses but you won't ever even wear them unless you have too."

He laughed, and grinned. "Ohhh love." He crawled up to lay beside you on his bed, getting comfy on top of the covers. "I'm so sorry. I'd no idea I was depriving you so."

You were quick to curl up against his body warmth, tucking the blanket around him and letting his arms cradle you against his chest. He admired you as you rested there, looking so lovely that Roger was almost sure he was dreaming.

"Do you really think I'm pretty?" He whispered, eyes focusing on how your eyelashes rested against your cheeks.

Your heart stopped for a moment and you realized you'd gotten your wish. Here you were, tucked into Rogers bed with him as he played with your hair and drew little pictures over your skin with his fingertips....and on top of that, now he was asking if you thought he was pretty. "I think you're beautiful. So lovely. Lovely, Rog."

He gave a shakey breath and smiled. He could have held you forever. You seemed so small and precious all tucked away in his arms. "You're my pretty girl, too. Such a soft little thing, aren't you?"

Your eyes fought their weight but he cooed to you softly, "There's my little love. That's it. Just rest." And you all too quickly gave in to his body warmth.

*************************

@fairytales-of-yesterday

@meddowscrl

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fic #roger x reader #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #roger taylor x oc #queen #queen band #queen x reader

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