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just-my-sickly-pride · 5 years ago

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Deep End || Roger Taylor x fem!Reader

summary || a week ago, roger asked you to be his friends-with-benefits. you invite him over to tell him your decision. things escalate, of course. modern day au. college au.

rating || explicit (18+). do not read if you are under eighteen. sub!roger, soft dom!reader, orgasm denial.

word count || 6.8k.

author’s notes || and here’s the next instalment in the try series! this one is set after ‘ask nicely’. i know, a lot of roger, but there’s more brian on its way too. if you haven’t read any other parts, it’s fine, this can be read on its own, if you don’t mind being a lil confused about certain details and conversations. there is mentioning of brian x reader. and i finally remembered to add on my tag list!

tag list || @drowseoftaylor @mrs-jack-murphy @bellas2silly @delilahmay39

masterlist

It had been one week since Roger’s drunken confession that he wanted a friends-with-benefits arrangement with you. It had been five days since he’d pulled you aside one day at uni and apologised for how he’d gone about it, then asked you again if you’d be interested, far more sheepishly than the first time.

You’d told him you had to think about it some more, and he’d accepted it.

And you’d been thinking about it a lot. More than you should have been, considering how uni was kicking your butt well and truly recently.

You wanted to talk about it with Veronica, but then it’d become a whole thing, and you didn’t really want her to know. Same with Freddie and John.

But maybe there was one person you could talk about it with.

“Can I talk to you about something?” you asked Brian as the two of you walked to your lecture. You didn’t look at him, just kept staring straight ahead.

“Always,” Brian said.

“It’s about Roger.”

“What about him?”

You took a breath. “Um.” You hesitated, and then guided Brian out of the main traffic, off to the side. “Do you remember, last week, that party we went to?” you asked him a low voice.

Brian nodded, leaning in closer to hear you better. “Mm.”

“And Roger was drunk off his face?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he told he that he… he wanted to do a friends-with-benefits thing with me. Same as I have with you.”

Brian snorted. “Course he did.”

You frowned. “What’s that meant to mean?”

“I just mean, of course he’d want the chance to sleep with you all the time. Can’t exactly blame him. You had me hook, line, and sinker after just making out with me one time.”

“Oh.” You tried to hide your smile, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Well, um, he brought it up with me again a couple days ago. I just don’t know what to do.”

“What?” Brian said, screwing up his nose. “Say no. Roger can sleep with whoever he wants.”

“But maybe I want it, too.”

“Well, do you?”

You sighed. “I don’t know.”

Brian cocked his head to the side. “That doesn’t sound all too enthusiastic.”

“Like, I’d want to sleep with him again,” you said. “And again again. And again again again. And–”

“Fuck, all right,” Brian cut in. “I get it, you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did,” you said. “But I just don’t know if – y’know, he could handle it without getting… emotionally involved.”

“I don’t think that’d be an issue for him,” Brian said wryly. “He seems fine with sleeping around.”

“But sleeping with one person multiple times?”

Brian hesitated. “Look, if I can do it, of all people, he can surely do it. And if you make the rules nice and clear, I’m sure it’ll be fine. If you really want to go for it, then go for it. Just as long as I still get you, too.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Yes, you’ll still get me. Dick.”

Brian laughed. The two of you resumed walking to class.

“Why don’t you go fuck someone else for a change, huh?” you said, nudging him with your elbow. “Maybe take a nice girl out to the movies? Finger her in the back row of the cinema?”

“Eugh,” Brian said. “No. I don’t know why on Earth anyone would have sex at the cinema. It’s way too weird for me.”

You sniggered. “Of all the things that are too weird for you, Brian.”

“I don’t care. I’m not fingering anyone at the cinema,” he said pointedly.

“I wasn’t saying I wanted you to finger me at the cinema.”

“I know.” Brian gave you an elfish grin. “The back row of the lecture hall, though…”

You scoffed. “In your dreams.”

“I have dreamt about it, yes.”

“No fucking at uni, remember? A solid ‘Nickleback’ on fingering in class, thanks.”

Brian made a disappointed face.

You clicked your tongue at him, rolling your eyes, and he laughed.

can we talk? come to mine this afternoon.

It took almost an hour for Roger to reply.

I finish at 3, see u then.

“Roger’s coming over just after three,” you said to your roommate Lucy as she picked at her leftover curry.

“That’s fine,” she said, moving the chicken around with her fork. “I’ll be heading out around four, maybe a little earlier. I’m meeting the girls for a catch-up.”

“Sounds fun,” you said with a smile. The kettle finished boiling, and you poured your tea. “Will you be out late?”

Lucy shook her head. “We’re just doing afternoon tea. Be home before dinner.”

“Great,” you said.

Lucy shot you a smile, shoved a mouthful of curry into her mouth, and disappeared out of the kitchen.

“I brought snacks,” Roger said, holding out a packet of corn chips and salsa when you opened the door at twenty past three.

“Hello,” you said, and took the snacks. “Thanks, you didn’t have to.”

“It was on the way.”

You stepped aside, and Roger entered. He stood in the living room as if he’d never been there before, gripping the shoulder strap of his messenger bag with both hands, watching you with wide eyes.

“You look like you’re about to head off to your first day of school,” you said with a chuckle. “Go sit down, you’re making me nervous.”

Roger did as he was told, taking off his bag and setting it down at his feet, sitting down on the couch. You sat down beside him, opening up the chips and dip and taking a bite.

Roger did not take a bite. “What did you want to talk about?”

“The–” You made sure to finish your mouthful. “The thing. That we talked about a few days ago.”

Roger nodded. He’d known, clearly. “Is, er, Lucy still here?”

“Mm, she’s in her room,” you said.

Roger seemed to deflate. “Oh. Yeah, cool.”

You didn’t miss it. “What?”

He looked at you in confusion. “What?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Roger said. “I completely understand. It’s totally fine, I won’t bring it up again. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Huh?”

“The…” Roger dropped his voice to a whisper. “The friends-with-benefits thing. It’s all right.”

You shook your head. “No, Rog, I’m here to tell you that I want to try it.”

Roger stopped. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Uh, what?”

“I wanna have sex with you,” you said. “On a semi-regular basis.”

Roger’s eyes lit up. “You do?”

“Yeah, dude.”

“I just thought – with Lucy here…”

“I don’t wanna have sex now,” you said with a snort. “It doesn’t have to, y’know, kick off with a bang or anything. There’s a bit to talk about first.”

“Like what?”

So you laid out the rules. The check-ins were the main thing. Honesty and complete emotional transparency was of utmost importance, no matter how awkward and horribly vulnerable it was. You couldn’t back out of a check-in – either person could ask for one at any time, and a response was required from both people. No fucking at uni, no getting romantic, no dates. The whole thing could be called off whenever by either party, no questions asked. Sleeping with other people was on the cards. If someone started getting romantically involved with a person outside of the arrangement, then the arrangement was off.

Roger listened intently, nodding. You could see it dawning on him how serious you were about all the rules you were listing, but if it scared him off, you didn’t care.

When you eventually finished, you said to him, “That’s about it. Is there anything you wanted to ask me?”

Roger blinked. “Uh. No, I don’t think so. Apart from, uh, how often do you wanna… meet up?”

You shrugged. “We can feel it out. When are you free?”

“Whenever,” Roger said, and the word fell out of his mouth like it had tripped and stumbled.

You grinned. “Bit eager.”

Roger’s cheeks went pink. “I meant, like, y’know.” He shrugged. “Whenever. I’m chill.”

“No, it’s sweet,” you said reassuringly. “What about on Friday night? Although you probably have plans, knowing you.”

“Not really,” Roger said. “I usually just go out with the boys, but it’s not important. I’d much prefer…” He ducked his gaze, and laughed at himself. He ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t believe–” He shook his head, and sighed, lifted his head, and stared you right in the eye. “I don’t know how you turn me into a mess like this. Fuck you.”

You laughed. “I’m not trying to, I promise.”

“I know. That makes it even worse.” He scoffed. “‘Sweet’. I’m not sweet. I’m hot as fuck. I’m – I’m fuckin’…” He floundered. “I’m hot shit. I’m a bad – bitch.”

You burst out laughing. “You’re a bad bitch?”

“Yeah!” Roger exclaimed, doubling down. “All the women fuckin’ fall at my feet. I’m so good at chatting people up. Two minutes – bam! That’s all it takes.”

“God, Rog, stop,” you said, trying to catch your breath. “Ah, my stomach hurts.”

“Tell me I’m wrong, though.”

“You’re wrong.”

Roger gaped. “You – I’m not!”

You gave him a bewildered look. “I can’t even tell if you’re joking or not.”

“First time I got a girl to call me Daddy and I nailed it,” Roger boasted. “You were begging for me.”

You shushed him, slapping him on the arm.

“Ow,” he said in a small voice.

“Lucy’s in her room,” you reminded him in a hiss.

“Sorry,” Roger said, rubbing his arm to soothe it.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have hit you, I wasn’t thinking,” you said, and kissed your fingers, then lightly pressed your fingers to where you’d hit him.

He pouted. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to go to my room?” you suggested. “I think Lucy’s leaving soon, she’s heading out.”

Roger checked his phone. “Yeah, all right,” he said, “I can stay for a bit.”

You should’ve known. You didn’t know how it hadn’t occurred to you what would end up happening, but it hadn’t.

You and Roger lasted about ten whole minutes alone in your room before you were making out on your bed.

His kisses were just as gentle as the first time, but you allowed yourself to enjoy it, not eager to rush into anything else, happy to just stay mildly turned on. You noticed his fingers would occasionally drum out a rhythm on your hip or your thigh as you kissed, his mind disappearing somewhere else before he brought it back. You liked it, liked being able to know what he was thinking, where his mind was.

Your top ended up on the floor before too long, beside Roger’s, and you straddled Roger’s waist. His hands felt heavenly smoothing up your back, and you shivered. He kissed your throat and your collarbones, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of it, combing your hand through his hair absentmindedly.

“I can’t believe you said yes,” Roger murmured against your skin. After almost twenty minutes of silence between you two, his voice almost made you jump.

You smiled. “Can’t believe it? Why not?”

Roger pressed another kiss to the hollow of your throat, and then leant back, tilting his head up to look at you, and you met his eyes. “I mean, it was a big ask,” he said. “You didn’t have to say yes. I imagine the whole thing with Brian keeps you busy enough.”

“I said yes because I wanted to,” you said. “Because you made me feel really good, and I want to explore more with you. And I trust you.”

“And I’m a bad bitch you couldn’t resist?”

You giggled. “No. You are hot as fuck, I’ll give you that, but you are not a bad bitch by any stretch of the imagination.”

“You’re so cruel.”

You laughed again.

Lucy’s bedroom door opened, and your head snapped towards the noise.

“What?” Roger whispered.

“I think Lucy’s leaving,” you murmured. You heard keys jangling, then the front door opening, and closing again.

You waited a few seconds longer to see if she came back in again, if she’d forgotten something, but it seemed like you were in the clear.

“Thank Christ,” you sighed, and took Roger’s face in your hands, kissing him fiercely.

Roger’s fingers tightened on your waist, and he kissed you back, but when you pulled away for a moment he said, “What?”

“Lucy’s gone,” you said. “I know I said we weren’t going to fuck today, but you’re really good at making out.”

“I – I need to check the time,” Roger said regretfully, and disappointment sank in your stomach.

“Oh, right, yeah, sorry,” you said, and climbed off him.

You sat on your bed, chewing your lip, as Roger bobbed down to fish his phone out of his backpack. You let your eyes trail over his body, over his bare torso and jean-clad legs. He had a nice bum, small and perky, which suited his personality, really. You wanted to lean over and give it a smack, just to see how he’d react. Maybe not just yet.

He had a really nice back, you thought. He was a drummer, and you could tell in the way the muscles moved under the skin of his back, the roundness of his shoulders, the strength in his arms. His stomach was soft – he was fit enough, but he clearly wasn’t interested in putting in the time to get abs.

You didn’t care. You liked it.

He raked his hair away from his face as he typed a response to a message. It was getting shaggy, falling in his face half the time. You liked that, too.

He dropped his phone and stood up, turning towards you. “I think I can stay for a bit longer.”

“Lucky me,” you said, reaching for him. He crawled over to you, and kissed you.

You shoved a hand through his hair, roughly, feeling how long it was getting, and gave it a sharp tug. Roger made a soft sound, and you felt him melt against you.

You pushed him onto his back and held yourself above him. “You like getting your hair pulled?” you asked with a grin. You reached underneath his head and tugged it again.

Roger gasped. “Mm, yeah, might do a bit,” he said breathlessly.

You chuckled, and kissed him again. You pulled his hair, harder than before, and he twitched.

You broke apart. “Sorry, too hard?”

Roger whimpered slightly, and shook his head.

Your eyebrows shot up. “No? I pulled pretty hard.”

“You can pull harder.”

So you did. You pulled, snapping his head back, and you held him there, watching his eyes go wide, and he whined. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You finally let him go, and he was gasping for breath. “You can keep going,” he said. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You shook your head disbelievingly. “Greedy.” You kissed him deeply, making a tight fist in his hair, just hard enough to tease him, and you could tell how needy he was starting to get by the way he gripped your hips.

You kissed along his jaw.

“More,” he said. “You can give me more.”

“I’ll give you more when I feel like it,” you said casually.

He made a sound in protest, and it was then it clicked that the previous roles you’d adopted last time you’d slept together were quickly reversing.

You let his hair go, and he whined. Your stomach clenched. Fuck, that was a good sound. You wanted to hear more of it.

You sat up, on his waist. “Rog?”

He looked up at you. “Mm?”

“I think today’s gonna be different from last time.”

He nodded. “I think so too.”

“What do you wanna do? Where do you see it going?”

He looked away, flustered. “We don’t have to… talk about it.”

“I just want to make sure.” You paused. “I think… I’m gonna be in charge today. How’s that sound?”

Roger looked back to you, and you could see the hunger in his eyes. He nodded. “Yeah, I – I like that. I’d like that.”

“And,” you continued, shimmying down Roger’s legs to go for his belt, “you’re going to do as you’re told. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, and then he flushed scarlet. “Sorry. I mean, um, yes.”

“No, it’s okay, you can call me that, if you’d like to,” you said. You finished unbuckling his belt, and undid his jeans, unzipping the fly. “I’m all right with that. Do you wanna call me that?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Sounds like you’re gonna be a real good boy for me, huh?”

“Maybe.”

You paused, blinking at him. “Oh? Maybe?”

Roger grinned cheekily. “Maybe.”

“Maybe who?”

“Maybe, ma’am.”

“Hm,” you said in thought. You climbed off him. “Jeans off.”

He took them off.

“Lie down.”

He did.

You stood up, and took your jeans off, slowly, unhurried. If you made a bit of a show of it, arching your back a little and sliding the jeans down your thighs, that was your business.

When you looked back to Roger, he was practically drooling where he lay, his eyes fixated on you with laser focus.

“You good?” you joked, tossing your jeans aside.

“Oh yeah,” Roger said emphatically, nodding, making you laugh. He bit his bottom lip, his eyes sweeping up and down your body. “God, you’re fucking hot.”

You glanced down at yourself instinctively. You were just wearing your everyday bra, a comfy pair of underwear. Nothing as racy as what you’d worn the first time you and Roger had slept together.

Roger clearly didn’t care.

You tried not to preen from the compliment. Yeah, you knew you were hot. But a reminder was always nice.

You climbed back on the bed, settling on your knees on top of Roger’s hips, grinding yourself a little against him, making his eyelashes flutter, his hands gripping your thighs.

You smiled, cocking your head to one side, thinking. “Hm,” you said. “What to do with you?”

Roger just waited patiently, his face open, his breath coming in short bursts.

You leant down and brushed your lips against his, just barely, and he chased the kiss, whining softly. You smiled, and instead started kissing his neck. His hands stroked up and down your back, lightly, and you began grinding against him a little more. The friction felt so good, the drag of your underwear on your clit, that you sat up again to find a better angle, grinding harder. Roger gasped, and you could feel him rapidly hardening underneath you, but you ignored it, ignored him, focused only on finding a rhythm that made you feel warm, made your blood feel electric.

You were breathing heavily, your head bowed, bracing yourself on Roger’s chest, and Roger was squirming.

“Ma’am,” he pleaded, his hands coming to your waist to try to still you. “Please, I can’t–”

You grabbed his wrists and pinned them beside his head, and rolled your hips, hard and slow, making him whine.

“What’s the matter, Rog?” you asked, a touch breathlessly. “You don’t like that I’m not giving you attention?”

Roger struggled against your hold on him. “I–”

“I was enjoying myself, Roger. I don’t like that you interrupted me.”

Roger stopped struggling.

You kissed him, hard, and then broke away to whisper in his ear, “You’re going to watch me for a bit, okay? Just watching.” Just for a bit. Some light teasing, then you’d let him touch you.

You pushed yourself away from him, climbing off him, leaving him cold. He looked at you like you’d just kicked his pet dog. “No!”

“Sit up,” you said. “Move back.”

“Let me eat you out,” Roger pleaded, but doing as he was told, getting up and shifting back, sitting back on his heels. “I want to, please? Let me taste you. I’ll make you come at least twice, I won’t stop until I do. As many times as you want. Please.”

You took off your underwear and bra, settling comfortably, leaning back on one hand, your legs sprawled out in front of you, and Roger made a helpless, desperate sound.

You ran your fingertips over your skin, over the swell of your breasts, over your inner thighs, just teasing yourself, and Roger sobbed, his fists twisting in the sheets.

“Ma’am, please, please, let me touch you, I need to, please.”

“You’re so needy,” you said with a grin.

Roger nodded, all dignity out the window.

You started touching yourself, humming in pleasure at the familiar feeling of your own fingers. “Look at you,” you said, drinking in the sight of Roger, gazing at you hopelessly, pleadingly, his body flushed, his underwear tented, a dark spot staining the material. “So hard for me already.”

Roger palmed at himself, and you said, “Nuh-uh. No touching.”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t touch myself,” he protested, stilling his hand on his cock.

“I know,” you said, and your breath caught, your back arching, as you slipped a finger into yourself. “But – but I’m telling you now.”

Roger groaned, but forced his hand back onto the bed. His eyes zeroed in on your hand, and your finger, where it was disappearing inside you.

You sighed, letting your head fall back and your eyes close. “Feels so good, Rog.”

You pushed in a second finger beside the first, pumping them leisurely, every so often taking a break to play with your clit. Roger kept making small noises of desperation, whines and sobs, his breath trembling.

“Maybe I’ll just make myself come like this,” you mused. You lifted your head again to look at Roger. He looked like was about to explode. Or die from the stress of it all. His knuckles were white, his arms and shoulders tensed, his mouth hanging open.

Your hips bucked slightly against your hand. It was a good look on him. Really good.

“What do you think, Rog?” you panted. You could feel yourself getting closer. “What if I just made myself come while you watched, and then sent you home?”

Roger’s eyes snapped to yours. “No, no, no, please, no,” he ground out. “Please, I’ll be so good for you, you can do whatever you want to me, I want you so bad. You look so good, you’re–” He swallowed. “You’re so wet. I – I can hear how wet you are.”

Your breath hitched, your hips jerking again. “You want to feel it for yourself, do you?”

“Yes,” Roger whined. “Please, I – I wanna… I…”

At this point, you had a feeling you were actually going to come on your own fingers. Roger’s voice, his face, his whole body and the way it was coiled like the tightest spring, it was all turning you on so much. So much for ‘light teasing’.

You moaned. “Shit.”

“You can do whatever you want to me,” Roger said again. “You can hit me, you can slap me, bite me, I don’t care, make me bleed, I’ll take it, I’ll take it so well, I’ll be so thankful, I’ll be good for you, just use me, anything, I– fuck, you look so good, please, ma’am, please.”

“Fuck, Rog,” you said, unable to believe the filthy things pouring from his mouth.

You were so close, way closer than you thought you would be, and Roger looked almost on the verge of tears.

“Please,” he whined. “Please, I can’t, I need you, I need you.”

That was the final tipping point. You came, gasping, your hips bucking against your hand.

Your fingers circled your clit slowly as you came down from your orgasm. You looked to Roger. He looked broken, staring at your fingers, and you felt your core pulsing with the last few aftershocks.

Roger moaned at the sight.

You jumped when your fingers brushed over your clit, sensitive, and you removed your hand with a sigh.

Roger’s eyes flicked to your hand, your fingers glistening with your juice.

You decided to take pity on him. “Clean me up?” you said, holding out your hand.

He looked to your face, checking to see if you were joking, just being cruel.

“Taste me, Rog,” you said.

Roger couldn’t get over to your fast enough, licking your fingers into his mouth, his hands curling around your wrist. He took your fingers in all the way to the knuckle, groaning at the taste, his tongue dragging over the pads of your fingers.

“Good boy,” you said. He was still shaking, and the dark spot on his underwear had grown considerably since you’d last checked.

You slowly pulled your fingers from his mouth, and he whined, but you only went so far, and then you pushed them in again, and he accepted them gladly. His lips looked wet and pink and gorgeous around your fingers, his whole body warm.

You adjusted, sitting up, your other hand smoothing over his thigh, making him moan, as you continued to lazily fuck his mouth with your fingers. His long eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, his tongue earnestly swirling around your fingers every time you pushed them back into his mouth. He sighed, whimpering, and you licked your lips.

“So well-behaved,” you murmured. “You look so pretty like this, Rog.”

Roger tensed, his fingers tightening around your wrist, and he shifted, urging you to fuck his mouth deeper.

“Oh, poor baby,” you cooed, smiling in amusement. “You’re so desperate you’ll take anything, huh? Doesn’t even matter if I’m not touching your cock.”

Roger shivered, his hips twitching against thin air.

You pulled your hand back, much to his despair, and you wiped your fingers on the sheets. “Normally I’d get you to use your mouth, to stretch me out for you,” you said, “but I think I’ve covered that just fine myself.”

Roger watched you carefully, his blue eyes so full of hope yet so worried at the same time. “What… What does that mean, ma’am?”

You cupped his cheek, and he leant into it, making a soft sound. “It means I want you to fuck me.”

Roger’s eyes lit up. “What? Really? I can?”

“If you ask nicely.”

“Please can I fuck you, ma’am? Please?”

You smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

Roger’s beaming smile was blinding, and you couldn’t help but draw him in for a kiss. He made a happy sound against your lips, and you pulled away briefly to reposition yourself, your head on your pillows.

Roger pounced on you, kissing you deeply, hungrily, harder than he’d ever kissed you before. You gave his hair a tug, and his hips jerked against yours, the first solid stimulation he’d received in almost the entire time. You gasped at the friction, and he immediately broke away to press his forehead against your shoulder, letting out the most guttural, broken moan, overwhelmed by how good it felt and desperately trying to stop himself from doing it again, to not come early. You could see the muscles in his back and shoulders tense like before, and they looked absolutely gorgeous.

Roger panted against your skin. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “Didn’t mean to.”

“That’s okay, honey, you did such a good job stopping yourself,” you assured him, stroking your fingers through his hair. “You’re doing so well. I’m so proud. But it’s okay, I want you to fuck me. Take off your underwear for me?”

Roger did so. He was so hard that it looked like it hurt. He must have wanted to scream.

“Lube and condoms are in that drawer there,” you said, pointing to your bedside table.

Roger’s hands were trembling as he fetched them, and he hissed as he rolled the condom on himself and drizzled lube onto his hand, dragging it up and down his cock as lightly as he could, pressing his lips together to muffle his whimpers.

You reached for him, and he moved over to you without question, kissing you. “I can’t wait to be inside you,” he whispered against your lips. “I’m so lucky, ma’am, thank you.” He kissed you again.

You were so surprised by what he’d said that you had no idea how to respond. You hoped he couldn’t tell how flustered you were.

He kissed your neck. “Now?” he said in between kisses. “Now, ma’am, can I now?”

“Yes, Rog,” you said, and he reached down to line himself up with your entrance. He started sliding into you, and you could see the way his breath stuttered. His head rested in the crook of your neck, and you hooked your legs over his hips. The slight ache felt good, familiar, and you stroked his back soothingly.

He sobbed against you. “I…”

“It’s all right, honey, you’re doing so well.”

“You feel so good.”

“You okay?”

Roger took a shuddering breath, and then lifted himself up on all fours above you, his eyes slightly damp. “Y-yeah,” he said shakily with a small laugh. “Just… you do feel really good.”

“Oh, hon,” you said with a small laugh in return, caressing his cheek.

Roger’s brow creased, and then he thrust into you the rest of the way. Your breath caught, and he moaned. “Fucking hell.”

You nudged him with your heels. “I’m good, I’m good.”

“I’m not,” Roger said, then added a quick, ma’am, just to be safe. “Just… give me a moment.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t last long,” you said. “I’ve already come.”

“You made yourself come,” Roger said. “I want to do it. Please.”

“Well, what am I gonna do,” you chuckled, “say no to that?”

Roger smiled weakly, and kissed you once, then readjusted his position slightly, and pulled out a touch, then thrust back into you.

“Oh, yes, Roger,” you sighed.

Roger kept it slow at first, his arms still shaking as he drove into you again and again, and it was incredible, the way you could feel the drag of his cock in and out of you. You made sure to keep up the praise every now and again, just reminding Roger that he was doing such a good job and that he was such a good boy, especially when he started fucking you faster, and every time you did, he whimpered, and the sound went straight to your core. You could tell how intently he was focusing on not coming before you did, and it honestly blew your mind how he was able to do it. He had to pause a couple times to catch himself, and he mumbled apologies and kissed your throat and your lips so sweetly each time before he had calmed himself enough to begin fucking you again.

You would’ve let him fuck you all day like this. He was being so good, so thoughtful and gentle and focused. You’d never seen Roger like this before, but you loved it. He was your good boy, your good boy who made such pretty noises and fucked you so well, who was so receptive to praise, who looked like he’d been blessed by God himself when you so much as touched his hair.

“Fuck,” you hissed when Roger hit the right spot again, “just like that, yes.”

Roger whined, hips snapping against you, hitting the spot again. “Shit, you feel so good,” he moaned. His rhythm stuttered, and he had to stop again, whining, pressing his forehead against your collarbones. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m sorry,” he panted, dropping a kiss to your skin. “You just feel so good, I can’t…”

“You’re doing such a wonderful job,” you said, combing your hands through his sweaty, tangled hair. “You’re so close to coming, huh?”

Roger nodded. “I – I was close when I first went inside you,” he confessed. “This is… I’m…”

“I’m not stopping you from coming, honey,” you said. “I don’t mind.”

Roger lifted his head, kissing your lips briefly, and shook his head. “Don’t wanna,” he said. “Not till you do.” He took a breath. “Are you–?”

You bit your lip, not wanting to disappoint him, but: “Not really, honey. You’re doing so well, it feels so good, but I just need more to actually get there.”

Roger nodded, his eyes growing determined.

“Rog, you don’t–”

“No, I can do it.” He kissed you again, then shifted, taking your ankle and resting it on his shoulder. Your leg was bent at the knee, and there was no way in hell you were going to be able to straighten it. You hoped he wasn’t planning on leaning too far forward, unless he wanted to tear your hamstring.

“I don’t know if I’m that flexible, Roger,” you said with a laugh.

“Please, ma’am,” Roger pleaded, and, well, you had to at least give it a try.

You nodded. “Okay, sweetheart, we’ll give it a go.”

Roger made sure your ankle was firmly in place, and then balanced himself on one hand, his other hand reaching between you, circling your clit. You sucked in a breath, your back arching.

Roger started fucking you again, slowly once more, while playing with your clit, and the combination of his fingers, with you feeling every ridge and vein on his cock, with your leg at a new angle, sent your mind into a frenzy.

“Oh,” you blurted, your eyes going wide, your fingers gripping the sheets beside you. “Oh, Jesus.”

Every time you clenched around Roger, he made a muffled whimpering sound, but he kept going, his jaw clenched.

You used your hand to keep your leg in place, because this felt good, and you did not want your leg to fall from Roger’s shoulder. You moaned helplessly. “Roger, God, fuck.”

Roger said nothing, concentrating too hard on his task. The familiar coil began tightening in your belly.

“Keep going, keep going,” you urged him breathlessly. “Ah, fuck, fuck.”

Roger started driving into your harder, and your leg slipped from his shoulder onto the bed, but it didn’t matter, because Roger’s fingers were making fucking magic.

The only obvious tell-tale that he was doing everything he could to stave off his own orgasm was the way he whined, “Please, please,” almost in a chant. His hips jerked off rhythm again, and he groaned deeply, but kept fucking you.

“I’m so close,” you told him. “So close, Rog, come on.”

He sobbed, his fingers working even harder. “Please.”

The coil was tightening more and more, and you cried out. “That’s it, come on, fuck, so – ah – so close.”

Roger was shaking with the effort, and you genuinely believed for a moment that he was about to come before you, but then he fucked into you just right, hitting that spot, and you completely came undone, crying out, your whole body shaking with the force of it. Feeling you coming around him, Roger followed immediately, hips ramming into yours, face buried in your neck, a loud, desperate sob punching from him, and he must have come hard, because he kept gasping out, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” his body convulsing as he curled around you.

Then it was quiet, apart from the sound of heavy breathing. Your aftershocks rippled through you still, slowly fading, and Roger twitched slightly every time they did.

“Oh my God,” you said to the ceiling.

Roger finally slumped against you, unable to hold himself up any longer, and, although it winded you and you were both far too sweaty, you didn’t mind.

“Jesus Christ, Roger,” you said, combing through his hair again.

He moaned pathetically.

“You all right?”

He let out a small whimper, but nodded. “Just gimme a sec.”

You laughed, and patted his back. “All right.”

He took another moment, and then struggled onto all fours, pulling out of you, and collapsed onto the bed beside you.

You grinned at the look on his face as he stared at the ceiling, wide-eyed.

“I,” he said. “Came. So. Hard.”

You burst into laughter, and he looked to you, laughing himself, but still bewildered. “I did!” he insisted. “It was like I came five times in a row or something. I don’t think I can walk after that.”

“I believe you,” you giggled.

Roger shook his head, looking back to the ceiling. “Shit.”

“How are you feeling?” you said. “We… got pretty deep into it.”

Roger licked his lips. “I’m – I’m okay,” he said. “I feel a little… spacey? But I’m all right.”

When you got a little spacey after you and Brian had gone harder than usual into the dom/sub dynamics, you only ever wanted two things: water, and cuddles.

“I’ll get you some water,” you said, sitting up. It was more difficult than you wanted to admit. “Ah, God.”

Roger chuckled. “How are you?”

“Exhausted.” You shot him a smile. “Dude, we have the hottest sex ever. How are we so good at this?”

“I know, right?” Roger said as you stood up and stretched, then went to throw on an old dress. “Maybe we should drop out of uni and become porn stars together. We’d make a bomb.”

You snorted. “I know you’re joking, but I can also tell that you’re kinda not, so I’m just gonna say it now: I’m not dropping out of uni to become a porn star.”

You headed to the kitchen.

“Maybe think it over?” Roger called after you.

You ignored him. You got yourself a drink of water, and were just finding something to snack on, when Roger stepped into the kitchen, dressed in his underwear and his shirt. He looked small, vulnerable.

“Mm?” you said.

“Um,” he said, stepping closer. “I… I don’t know.”

Oh. Cuddles.

You hopped up onto the kitchen bench and spread your arms. “C’mere,” you said, and he hurried over, burying his face in your shoulder, his arms holding you close.

You just held him, scratching the base of his skull soothingly. He sighed contentedly, and you smiled.

You showered first, and he went second. You lent him an old shirt and a pair of pyjama pants, which fitted him more like boxers. You were a big fan. He was not, but he didn’t really have much of a choice. He was unusually quiet, but he seemed happy, and when you offered to let him sleep over, he accepted wholeheartedly. For the rest of the afternoon, and then the evening, he was always touching you in some way, and you gave your cuddles freely. He curled against you as you both watched a movie on your laptop in your room after dinner, and he nodded off with his head against your shoulder.

You let him. It was nice.

The next morning, he was back to his old self. “What would you have done if I’d called you ‘Mummy’ instead of ‘ma’am’ yesterday?” he asked thoughtfully.

You almost spat out your tea, glancing furtively towards Lucy’s bedroom. Hopefully she was still asleep. “Uh.”

“Y’know, because you called me ‘Daddy’, not ‘sir’.”

“Yeah, no, I get it.” You took another sip of tea. “Well, what if I’d told you to call me ‘Daddy’?”

Roger stared at the table as he processed this. Then he looked back up to you. “Hm,” he said. “I honestly don’t know how I feel about that one. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“My answer’s the same as yours,” you said. “I honestly don’t know how I feel about that one.”

Roger nodded, and took a bite of toast. “Fair enough. Has Brian ever called you that?”

“What, ‘Mummy’?” you said, and Roger shrugged. “No. It never even occurred to either of us.”

“What does he called you?”

You pulled a face. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m curious.”

You were about to say something else, about how it was weird he wanted to know, but you bit your tongue. “He doesn’t call me anything, really,” you said instead. “Just my name. Even when I’m calling him ‘Daddy’, he… doesn’t really call me anything. He calls me a, uh, good girl, but, yeah, just my name. He’s not as big on the pet names during sex as you are.”

Roger scoffed. “Well, he’s missing out, that’s all I have to say.”

You chuckled. “Well, I’m seeing him tonight, so maybe I can ask him.”

Roger raised his eyebrows. “You’re seeing him tonight? Like…”

“Sleeping with him, yes.”

“You’re not tuckered out after last night?”

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug. “But I guess I’ll have to get used to it if I’m going to be balancing the two of you from now on, aren’t I?”

“Guess so, yeah.”

“I can just make him do all the work,” you added with a smile. “He’ll be a bit grumpy about it, but he’ll do it.”

“Can you get him to wash all my dishes?”

“No.”

Roger made a disgruntled face, and you laughed.

Okay. Maybe this could work out, after all.

#mine #roger taylor x reader #queen fanfiction #smut #try verse #rpf

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