#roger taylor smut imagine

[letssee2468]

Yall let me be real with you…

YALL THESE PORN BOTS ARE GETTING OUT OF HAND!!!😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

I’ve had enough! I already scrolled 5 consecutive post of these porn bots

Some one pls help me filter them out cuz im annoyed

[itsshawtyfellas]

I'm still not over how fucking hot Ben looked as Roger Taylor in borhap.

[glitteraddams]

Spencer Hastings x Black!Fem Reader

୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ Equestrian Camp ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Horse riding was never on your radar, but with summer stretching out ahead, you weren’t about to waste it. You were hanging out in Emily’s room, snacking on the chocolate chip cookies Pam had baked, when you sighed, “I have no idea what I’m going to do this summer.” Emily and Maya exchanged a look before Emily spoke up. “How about this camp my friend Spencer is going to?”

You were less than thrilled. You had a history with the Hastings—Spencer’s unwavering stare and Melissa’s snickering had left a bad taste in your mouth. You had assumed Spencer was either racist or had some personal issue with you. Whenever you confronted her, she’d either look away or blush, further fueling your assumptions. Maya nudged your elbow, urging you to go. “It might be fun,” she said with a hopeful grin.

So, you agreed, deciding to give it a shot.

When you walked into the barn, the first person you saw was Melissa Hastings. You fought the urge to roll your eyes as she looked up, surprised to see you. “Oh, Spencer is going to love this,” she said with a smirk. You raised an eyebrow but kept your mouth shut. You were planning to stay at the camp for a few months, and you didn’t want to start any drama right away.

Then, the cutest horse trotted over to you, its curious eyes fixed on you. Spencer dashed after it, calling out, “Pistachio!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “The horse’s name is Pistachio?”

Spencer nodded, catching her breath. “Yep, and he’s supposed to be your horse.”

Later, you caught up with your friend Imani, and things were going well until Spencer walked in to grab her textbooks. Despite the semester not starting yet, she was engrossed in her reading material. As she left, she gave Imani a frosty look, which didn’t go unnoticed by you. You called her out on it, but Spencer just smacked her lips and mumbled something dismissive. It was clear she didn’t care about you at the moment.

Over the next few days, Spencer started ignoring you. Feeling guilty about the confrontation, you decided to make amends. You knew Spencer loved coffee, so you began leaving a cup by her desk every morning. But despite your efforts, the cup remained untouched.

One night, with most of the girls at Noel Kahn’s party, it was just you and Spencer in the cabin. Imani was supposed to stay and keep you company, but she suggested you take advantage of the situation to talk to Spencer. You knew it would be tough for Spencer to forgive you, but you had to try.

You waited until the right moment. After a shower, you returned to the room wrapped in a towel. As you moved about, the towel slipped from your grasp and fell to the floor. You noticed Spencer’s gaze follow the movement, her eyes lingering on you.

You let her take in the view for a moment before calling her name. “Spencer?”

“Huh?” she replied, her voice a mix of surprise and curiosity.

You quickly put on your shirt and walked over to her. She stared at you, her expression a mix of confusion and intrigue. You climbed onto the bed, positioning yourself above her, feeling the tension crackle in the air. Her delicate fingers brushed over your thighs, a soft touch that made your heart race. You leaned in close, your lips almost brushing her ear as you whispered, “Am I forgiven?”

In that moment, her eyes softened, and you could sense that the barriers between you were starting to come down.

[rogertaylorsprettyvoice]

(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. 

[illfoandillfie]

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.

[rogertaylorshbb]

"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

[matthew-gray-gublers-babygirl]

Friends Will Be Friends - Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader (Chapter Two)

Summary: Roger and the reader are best friends, and friends must always be there for each other, even if stronger feelings come into play.

Warnings: subtle angst/sadness, hidden feelings, friends to lovers, emotional and sexual tension, smut, swearing, unprotected sex (p in v)

Word count: 3.2k

Read chapter one -> here

Enjoy <3

The sunlight burns your eyes as it pierces through the drapes. You weren't even hungover, but the light still pained your eyes. When you realize you're laying next to your best friend Roger, you get out of bed. You weren't drunk. You were not hungover. Your worst fear was hooking up with Roger and possibly compromising the entire friendship.

You've only stayed over for the night. Fortunately, nothing happened. Because Roger was still out cold, you leave his bedroom. You brewed a cup of coffee, sat on his couch, and sipped it slowly while watching television.

You cast a glance over at the embroidered pillow resting on the side of the couch. You recall Roger resting his head on it while you massage his scalp. You sigh at the memory, and a small pain rises in your chest as you recall his anguish. Speak of the Devil. You turn around to see Rogers' unkempt blonde mop around the corner. 

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," you jokingly say. Roger rubs his sleep from his eyes. "I'm sorry about last night," he apologizes. He wasn't as intoxicated as you thought.

"It's okay," you say. "And I'm sorry about you and Jo," Roger sighs and responds nonchalantly as he sits on the couch. "You didn't have to stay, you know," he says with a shrug.

You look him in the eyes, your hand gently resting atop his. "No way, Roger. I had no choice but to stay. I couldn't leave you alone," you explain, "because I can't stand seeing you cry."

Roger grasps your hand shakily. "Thank you, Y/N." As he holds your hand, your heart skips a beat. "Y/N, I need to tell you something," you quickly shut him down. "You don't have to," you say as you withdraw your hand. 

He gives you a puzzled look. "O-oh, okay." You finish your coffee quickly and place it on the table. "I should go home now," you say as you get up from the couch. "Please try to stay positive, okay? See you later," you say as you leave his flat.

Roger sits there silently watching you walk away. When he hears the door click shut, his lips tremble and he lets out quiet sobs. He had feelings for both you and Jo. But getting Jo back was now out of the question. And it appeared to him that you were uninterested in having a relationship with him. He dragged himself off the couch and walked lazily to the kitchen to obtain some alcoholic anesthesia.

You can't stop crying by the time you get to your car. You could feel everyone's gaze on you. Every driver, every bicyclist, and every mother walking her child. Roger was the only person you wanted to see you. When you were in such a vulnerable state, he was the only person you felt safe with. No matter what Roger wanted to tell you, you wouldn’t let him. He needed to heal and move on from Jo, and you weren't about to jeopardize his mental health for such petty and selfish reasons.

It's been five days since that incident, and you still haven't spoken to Roger. Of course, you called Freddie to check in on him from afar. "He refuses to talk to us about it. I've asked him numerous times, but I've given up on pressing him on it." Freddie explains. "It appears you're the only person he wants to talk to," he recalls over the phone because you wouldn't be caught dead with your best friend's bandmate when your friendship is going through a rough patch.

"Do you think I should call him?" you inquire, and Freddie paused before responding. "You can give it a shot. Aside from coming to practice and such, he's been pretty distant. He's also been drinking a lot more," he explains. You responded with a hum. “Okay. Thank you, Fred. See you later," you say. "Goodbye, dear. Good luck with Rog.” The phone clicks and the line goes dead. You dial Rogers' number, imagining his sad expression with each digit.

"What?" says the irritated voice on the other end of the line. “Roger? This is Y/N." Roger quickly stands up and clears his throat. “Oh, Y/N. Hi," he says, like a schoolboy. "We haven't spoken in over a week. It doesn't sit right with me." You ask, "Can I come over to talk?" He nods. "Yeah, sure," he replies. “See you soon,” you tell him. "Mhm," he says before hanging up. Roger gets right to work cleaning his flat. He hides the alcohol bottles and tries to fix his hair. He was fortunate not to have a girl over.

You arrive at his flat on time. As your hand ghosts the door, you hesitate to knock. You nonetheless knock and wait to be welcomed in, unlike when you just let yourself in. Before the door swings open, you hear shuffling behind it. "Hi," he says again, sheepishly. "Hey," you say, awkwardly smiling. "Can I come in?" you inquire. "Oh, yes. Of course, come in," he says, quickly moving out of the way to let you in. He reverts to his awkward stature from his adolescence.

"Listen, I'm sorry about last week," you say as you begin. “No, Y/N. You don't have to apologize,” he says. He leads you to the couch so you can sit and talk properly. “What I wanted to tell you, I shouldn't have even tried. Shouldn't have even considered it." You give him a puzzled look but allow him to continue uninterrupted. 

“It's obvious that things aren't mutual. I get that.” His voice cracks and tears well up in his eyes. “And I think it's time to move on, like you said, there's got to be somebody out there for me.” He breaks eye contact, allowing you to fail to notice the tears in his eyes. 

You reach for his hand, it nervously shakes it in your palm. You caress his skin with your thumb, and he looks up to see that your eyes are also filled with tears. 

"No, Roger..." You shake your head slowly. A tear falls down his cheek. "I'm in love with you. I've always loved you."

Your heart begins to beat dangerously fast, and you can feel Rogers' pulse matching it.

What he was hearing was unbelievable to him. No, everything was a lie. It's a simulation. Roger swallows hard as he attempts to process your words. "You... love me?" he wonders, and you nod. "I love you," you say. 

You can feel the tension between you growing. His grip on yours is a silent promise never to let go. You gradually lean in closer, his chest heaving as he realizes what you're doing. You kiss, and your lips fuse together, tears blending into a uniform mixture. His hands reach up to gently cup your cheeks, drawing you in closer to prolong the kiss. As the kiss deepens, he wipes away your tears. You slowly separate from his lips, gasping for air. "I love you, too..." Roger speaks in hushed tones. You shiver as you feel his breath on your lips.

Rogers' hands work their way down to your waist. His touch is gentle as if he's afraid of breaking you. He kisses you again, this time open-mouthed. Once you accept it, he lets his tongue slowly explore your mouth. You quickly hook a leg over his lap, securing yourself on top of him as your hands comb through his hair, tugging on his roots as he responds with a muffled whine. 

As you straddled his hips, his face turned bright red. He used every muscle in his body to prevent his natural desires, but a tent began to form in his trousers. You liked the fact that you turned him on. You desired nothing more than to have him inside you.

You quickly separate the deep kiss, kissing him gently with every other word. "Would you like to... take this to... your bedroom?" you manage to ask, fighting the urge to moan from his erection. He exhales a shaky breath. "Yes, fuck- Yes," he says as he quickly picks you up. As he carries you to his bedroom, he kisses you again, this time deeper. 

You fall onto the bed, hearing it creak as a result of your weight. Roger shifts positions, crawling on top of you while continuing to kiss you. He positions himself between your legs, causing your body to tremble with nervousness. You've been fantasizing about this for years.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do this..." He whispers as he pulls his tongue away from your lips, leaving a trail down your neck. You let out a laugh. "It's as if you read my mind." he grins against your skin as he begins sucking hot welts onto your neck. You moan as a result. 

"Fuck," he says quietly. When he touched himself, he always imagined how you moaned. It sounded much better in person. "Fuck me, Roger," you begged. He whimpered in response to your words. "I'm going to fuck you, baby. Don't worry..." He quickly starts hacking at his trousers, eventually undoing the top button and loosening the zipper. You look between your legs, knowing that his erection is no longer constrained by the tension of his trousers, but is still clothed by his underpants. The untouched heat between your legs was becoming unbearable; you couldn't wait much longer.

As Roger takes off his t-shirt, you undo your top.  You'd seen him without a shirt before, but this time was different. He's taken aback by your breasts. Your bra is still securely cupping them, so you remove it. The sight below him makes his mouth water. He grabs them hesitantly, gently fondling the soft flesh in his palms. 

"Like them?" you ask, watching Roger play with your chest, his eyes sparkling like a kid in a candy store. "Love them," he states. His lips return to yours as his hands reach down to undo your jeans. As he struggles with your trousers, he curses under his breath. He manages to remove them and smirks in relief. His fingers ghost the band of your panties. 

“What are you waiting for?” you ask. “Hm? Oh. Sorry, just got distracted.” Did he seriously get distracted by your underwear? Apparently, he did. He removes them, seeing as your arousal stains the fabric. “Nice and wet for me,” he hums. He runs a finger through your folds, and you whimper as he grazes your clit. “Sensitive?” You nod.

“Can I taste you?” He asks. You practically burst at the seams at the thought of Roger eating you out. “Only if I get to suck you off,” you reply. He gives you a smirk, but inside his heart is throbbing as he imagines your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock. You were really just a couple of horny teenagers at heart.

Roger attaches his lips to your thigh, sucking a brand into your inner thigh. A brand only he would be allowed to see. You card your fingers through his hair, a silent beg to stop teasing. He lets out a chuckle. “Needy much?” he hums. “Shut it,” you mumbled. His lips slowly trail further between your legs; you can feel the smirk on his lips. You watch as he reaches your heat, sticking out his drilling tongue as he slowly dips it into your core. He drags it through your folds, humming as your arousal alerts every taste bud. 

You grip his hair, and a similar whine from before comes from him. Maybe he has a hair-pulling kink, you thought. As his tongue reaches your clit, you let out a soft moan. He retracts his tongue, repeating the motion as your moans continue. You fantasized about his little blonde mop between your legs, working away furiously with his tongue, but you never imagined he would be this good. You moan Rogers name. That wasn’t the first time you moaned it. You always thought of him while pleasuring yourself, and now it felt even more pleasurable knowing that he was the one producing it.

“That's right… moan my name,” he praises. “Be a good girl and moan…” You grip his hair even tighter as the pleasure grows. Roger takes that as a sign to give you more. He slowly inserts a single finger. His fingers were thick and long. You whine at the first action of penetration, your moans continuing as he begins pumping the digit in and out. “M’gonna– Fuck. Gonna come,” you struggle to get out. 

Roger felt your walls flutter around his finger, your insides dancing with the pleasurable sensation as your orgasm reaches closer and closer. “Come for me, Baby. Let me taste how good you are,” he hums in a low voice as his mouth returns to your clit. Your thighs squeeze around his head; you were surprised his skull didn't explode. Your head was swimming in ecstasy and seeing stars. Roger does a move, a move nobody has done before. He curls his finger, pressing it hard up against your g-spot. That was just what you needed to fall over the edge. You wail in delight, strings of unholy words and Rogers’ name. 

Roger was pleased with himself; glad he was able to satisfy you to the point of screaming. He sucks up your juices, lapping up every single ounce he could. He hummed at the taste. He could come right there just by drinking your arousal. 

Spent, you lay on your back again, chest heaving dangerously. “Fuck– Roger. You’re amazing…” you whisper. He hovers over you again, giving you a kiss on the forehead and smiling. “There's way more where that came from,” he grins. You had completely forgotten that there was more.

“Lay down,” you tell him, but it was meant as a demand. “Yes, ma’am,” he smirks and promptly lays down. You begin to peel back his boxers; a wet spot had already formed from pre-come. His cock springs free from his underpants. Your mouth waters at the sight of his twitching length. You grasp his shaft, slowly pumping it in your palm. He watches with furrowed eyebrows and a worried gaze. His heart beats violently at the sight of your hand moving up and down his length. 

“Not gonna last too long, love–” he huffs. You smirk, running your thumb over his sensitive tip and he moans at the sensation. “Babe– fuck.” You kiss the crown, getting some of his pre-come on your lips. “Taste so good,” you hum, giving him a devious smile as his head falls back, letting out a masculine moan as you suck on his tip. 

He lets the pleasure go on for far too long. “Baby– babe. Stop, I’m gonna come,” he quickly spats out through moans. You stop; a sad expression on your face. You wanted to taste him. “Promise you’ll let me give you a proper blow job another time?” you ask, doe eyes heavily accentuated with the question. “Promise,” he replies. So there would be another time.

You reposition yourself, straddling Rogers’ hips once again. “Always imagined you ridin’ me,” he hums. “Well now you don't have to imagine,” you grin.

You lean down, gently kissing him, letting the taste of each other's mouths mix together. You run his tip through your folds; he whimpers. “Ready?” you ask. “I’ve been ready.” You slowly sink down onto his cock, a whine admitting from you as he stretches you out. “So tight for me, baby,” he mutters. “Just like that, good girl. Mm… Just like that,” he says as he talks you through it, slowly taking in his length inch by inch. 

Full of him, you moan as he reaches deep inside you. “Fuck– I didn't think you’d be… this big–” you say hesitantly out of fear of offending him, but all he does is smirk at your helpless expression. His hands roam up and down your sides, massaging the soft flesh of your body. “You’re beautiful, love,” he tells you. You blush at his words. “Never thought I’d be able to see you like this. All to myself.”

“You’re quite handsome, too,” you manage to say. You roll your hips; Roger moans as your walls move around him. “Always thought you were gorgeous,” you roll your hips again, a moan coming from you instead. “You’re the– fuck– gorgeous one,” he retorts. 

You lift your hips, removing most of Rogers’ length before dropping them down to his pelvis. You moan out in pleasure. “Just like that, babe,” he praises. You do it again, and again, and again, until you both are a couple of moaning messes. Roger digs his fingers into your skin, knuckles going white hot from his grip. 

“Don’t stop–” Roger begs. “I’ll never stop, Rog. Never…”

Your legs shake in desperation, pleasure and pain mixing together in harmony as you struggle to ride him. “M’gonna– gonna come… Baby– fuck!” you cry out. “Come for me, Love. Let go…” Roger whispers. “Be a good girl for me.” The last praise was just enough to send you over the edge. Your walls squeeze around him. Roger moans as you tighten. Your head gets thrown back violently, vision becomes blurred. Once again, you finally reach the edge, coming all over Rogers’ cock as you frantically scream his name.

“Where do you– where do you want it? My come?” he asks, breathless as he prolongs his high for as long as possible. “In– Inside!” Roger groans at the thought of filling you up with his seed. That was enough to make him scream. He bucks his hips, pushing deeper inside of you as he fills you up. 

Youre filled with a warm sensation as he comes. A sensation you never want to forget. His top twitches inside you, glands throbbing as he experiences his orgasm. You go still as a statue, unable to move as your body goes numb. You’ve never experienced such a thing before. 

Roger begins to go soft, and you manage to remove his length. You collapse on top of him, breathing in his sweat. 

“I love you…” you whisper. He presses a gentle kiss atop your head. “I love you, too…”

You lay together in silence while you catch your breath. Once Roger had regained his energy, he gets up, slid on his boxers and disappears for a moment. You slide on your panties and steal his t-shirt. He returns with a damp rag, offering to clean you up while smirking as he sees you in his shirt. You accept it, even if you were still a bit sensitive, returning the smile back to him.

You finally lay down, melting into Rogers’ embrace. “You’re the bestest friend I've ever had,” he smiles. You look up at him, doe-eyed yet again. “Am I more than a best friend?” you ask. This is what you feared the most. 

I love you, Y/N, but I met someone else – I love you, Y/N, but I can't be with you.

"If you're okay with it, I want to be more than friends," he says. "You know, like, boyfriend and girlfriend?" He sounds like a teenager all over again. "I like the sound of that," you hum before kissing him. "Roger, you'll always be my best friend. I love you." He laughs. "I love you, too, best friend." You laugh together before drifting off to sleep without the worry of being only a friend.

[halucynator]

Hey babe! Absolutely adore your writing! Do you have any recs?

Thanks! And yes! I'm so glad you asked. There's a lot though so it's gonna be a bit long x

Theodore Nott

@cassiopeiasdaughter : an exceptional writer, their Theodore Nott fics based on midnight songs are the best! Wish them good luck on their uni exams and check out their awesome blog xx

Here are some of my personal favourites from their blog:

August: Theo asks you to be his fake-girlfriend but you understand the assignment a little too well.

Fearless: Based on the song fearless by Taylor Swift.

Maroon: A diary entry written during the War based on the song maroon by Taylor Swift.

Check out their other midnights collection entries!

@avalynlestrange: another great writer! one of the best angst writers on this platform in my opinion x they also write mattheo Riddle fics

These ones are my favourite:

@the0doreslover: in love with their Theo fics!

Foolish one: In which you know you’re being foolish in liking Draco but will you finally learn your lesson? Theodore certainly hopes you do.

In my head: In which Theodore Nott is the man of your dreams. Literally. Who is his?

My favourite one is Cooking class xx

Here are a few Theodore Nott fics from writers who's blogs aren't all about Theo xx

I think he knows: you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move

Now, I did some digging and @dreamcubed writes about other hp characters as well based on songs by Taylor Swift! Their work is amazing so go check them out! Sorry for the late mention, I just checked and realised that they have like a blog that revolves around hp characters xx

Electric touch: a cute guy stumbles into the coffee shop you work at and it alters your brain chemistry.

I thought you knew:“i thought you knew?” “you thought i knew we were dating?” “yes!” “how would i know that, nott, you never told me.”

Want you: Based on the following prompts: Why do you always look at me like that?” “Like what?” “Like you… Want me.”  and "he doesn't even deserve to be breathing the same air as you"

Butterfly Love: Despite witnessing the death of his mother and being forced to grow under the watch of his Death Eater father, Theodore Nott is living proof that love and care bloom even in the most barren conditions. Maybe, they flourish even more.

Mattheo Riddle

@suugarbabe: their fics are absolutely magnificent. I recommend their saving grace series x the rest parts can be found on their blog x

These are some of my personal favourites:

Always: You & Theo have been best friends since year 1. Everyone things you and Theo are going to end up together but both of you like different people.

Drawings: based on prompts 'i never knew that about you...it's cute' and 'i can't believe I've never seen this side of you before'

Oblivious: contains smut Based on prompts "Are you really so oblivious?" And "Can I kill him now?"

@happilykrispypirate: another fabulous writer! Their mattheo angst fics are like the best x the mistake and don't touch her are my favourite xx

Some of my favourite mattheo fics are listed below x:

Black Quill: You never liked Umbridge, but who did? The woman was miserable and cruel. Her power in the school grew day after day.

Mattheo finds you crying alone: Imagine crying alone in the Astronomy Tower, hoping to escape everyone but Mattheo finds you

Torment : Reader is constantly bullied. Mattheo saves her from the bullies.

Everything and nothing: 1 2: where mattheo brings along a girl none of your group is fond of. Especially you. And the timing of it all is horrible.

Draco Malfoy

@talesofadragon: they have amazing fics and their fluff stories are the best! Check them out for Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes fics as well if you're interested xx

These are my favourite Draco fics by them. Their Draco masterlist is here.

Even if it's dark: Summary: Despite being raised in a traditional pureblood household with an overly abusive father, Y/N Y/L/N teaches Draco that light can exist even in the darkest of places.

Mittens: When Draco is in a foul mood and unwilling to disclose his problems, Y/N resorts to her animagus form to get him to talk. 

@fallingforfictionalcharacterss: whenever I feel like I'm going to go back to my Draco phase I read their fics! Another really good angst writer x Their fics are so cool and I love them xx some of their fics I love:

Falling: Where you are falling for the one boy who is known to break every girl´s heart.

False friends and true love: Where you get into a fight with your best friend and she reveals your feelings for a certain boy in front of everybody.

Ruin your life: Why would you kiss out of all the people the boy you hate the most in this world?

@dreamingonfilm: another great writer! Their fluff fics are my favorite! These are some I love by them:

Pretending: in which you watch Draco as he falls out of love with you

Cramps: In which Draco takes care of you whilst you’re on your period.

Bruises: 1 2: After years of being bullied by Draco, you finally stand up for yourself. However, you left him with more than a bloodied cheek and a bruised jaw.

Some other fics that I love:

Amortentia: the rest parts can be found on that post. Summary: Pansy forces a secret out of you, and you’re strongly debating which curse/jinx to use on her.

Unforgivable: Where y/n gets poisoned because of draco's behaviour

Taylor Swift

This is random but if you want someone to talk to Taylor Swift about, check out @annaisabookworm. They're super sweet and supportive and their blog is about Taylor Swift xx I love their posts x

[buckets-and-trees]

Silent Screams in Wildest Dreams

Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader, side of Steve Rogers Word Count: 8k Summary: A dark tale with an unhappy ending. Just when you’ve married the man of your dreams, only just closed the chapter of your honeymoon, happily ever after is wrenched away, and you’re met with a nightmare you never could have imagined. This was written for prompt #14 in Roo’s Hallo-Cream Extravaganza: Each morning you feel more and more drained, but you don’t notice the marks until it’s too late.

Content Warnings: DARK tale; main character death; explicit smut: rough sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected vaginal intercourse, creampie; talk of wounds; slight dub/con; somnophilia; DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Additional Notes: I will leave more detailed notes at the end of the fic so I don’t give specifics away, but this is loosely based on some Scandinavian folklore I’ve been exploring. I emphasize this is loosely based on the folklore – I’m not a Scandinavian folklore expert AND there were a couple of elements I did adapt to fit the direction of the story overall. I've left some songs throughout the fic for a bit of a soundtrack, if you wish. The title is taken from a Taylor Swift lyric (from "This Love"), but don't let that fool you. Here be a dark story.  

Also, thank you to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for letting me in on the party here with the challenge (my first challenge in this fandom) AND for literally saying "take all the time you need" when I said the beast was still being tamed and that life had been more life-y than I thought it would be over the past few weeks.

The first thing you’re conscious of are the warm fingers stroking lightly up and down your back. You take in a deep breath of morning air, and hum in contentment as you let it out, stretching one of your arms out across the mattress, and the other above your head, pushing out from under your pillow to press against the headboard.

“Good morning, beautiful,” your husband says softly, his hand now moving beneath the hem of your shirt to press gently against the small of your back.

“Morning, Buck.”

Then you frown, registering that he’s not on his side of the bed, but sitting on the edge of your side of the bed. You turn and try to sit up. “Wait, what time-?”

He cuts you off and pushes you back down to the mattress. “Early.”

“James! You said you were leaving at six!”

He chuckles, “I know. I’m sorry.” He leans forward, brushing some hair out of your face before kissing you. You wrap your arms around his neck. “You don’t have to get up until seven, and I didn’t want you to go to the trouble of getting up at five to try and make breakfast and send me off.”

He’s kissing you again to try to swallow your protests, which only works for a moment, but then you turn your head. “It’s our first day going back to work since the wedding, you should have let me dote on you.”

Pressing kisses along your jaw and down your neck, he counters, “Shouldn’t a husband allow his wife to sleep in so he can keep her up all the later when he gets home?”

You let out a soft moan as he punctuates his question by sucking softly at the crook of your neck.

“What time is it?” you manage to whisper, trying to stay focused on your spat.

“A little after four.”

“What?” you jolt up with shock. “Four!”

He laughs. “Wheels up at five so we could get back for dinner.”

You groan and settle back into the mattress. “Four in the morning is disgusting. I’m glad you tricked me. Just make sure to grab some toast or something on your way out.”

“Yes, dear.”

As he moves to leave, you pull him back. “One more kiss.”

“Always.”

He sinks back into you, and your lips meet again. You love to feel his weight pressed against you, but he does prop himself partly, his metal forearm right next to your shoulder, and vibranium fingers tangling in your hair. Both your hands hold his face, and you part your lips to drink in more of him. He reciprocates, tongue seeking yours earnestly. His flesh hand skims up the side of your body, moving again under your sleepshirt, over your ribs, and then he begins to gently palm your breast, and your moan again.

“Keep up with that, and you’re not leaving this bed anytime soon,” you murmur against his lips, your back arching into his hand.

He huffs out a sigh, easing his hand away, but pressing his forehead against yours. “Fuck, I know.”

Your lips capture his again, but with less urgency, just lips and feelings, and his warm hand withdraws from your chest and comes up to caress your face.

After another minute, he sits up.

You sigh but smile at him.

“I promise to pick up where we left off when I return.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

He takes your hand and presses a warm kiss into your palm before standing, then pulling the covers back up and tucking you in. You yawn, both of you laugh, and then he leaves a final kiss on your cheek.

“Sleep well, my love.”

 The sky grows darker, and you frown as you look at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t a problem for Bucky to be taking longer than you expected to get home for dinner because the soup was safe just simmering, but this much later when he texted he would be home soon wasn’t normal.

There’s a knock on the door, and you carefully move Alpine off your lap and deposit her back on the cozy armchair to go answer it. You wonder if it’s Bucky and maybe he forgot his keys?

A quick glance out of the peephole reveals the familiar frame of your husband’s best friend on the other side of the mahogany door.

“Steve!” You open it wide and beam at him. “Bucky didn’t say you’d be coming by! You’ll stay for dinner, I’m assuming?”

Because Steve is already such a regular fixture in the place you and Bucky had recently moved into before the wedding, you had already turned and crossed the living room, heading for the kitchen, when you pause and turn back around, realizing that Steve hasn’t said a word of greeting and has only taken a few steps inside.

He’s watching you closely in a way he never has, and you read hesitancy in every muscle and movement of his body. He slowly pushes the door closed behind him.

Steve looks around the room very quickly, then takes a deep breath in and out before saying your name, and there is so much emotion in it, your blood runs cold immediately.

“No,” you shake your head. “No, no, no. Steve, he can’t…”

He closes his eyes and gives a single nod.

The flood of anguish is overwhelming, dropping you to your knees, and the tortured sound that erupts from your soul is foreign to your own ears. In less than a moment, Steve is crouched next to you, wrapping his arms around you. As much as you’re clinging to him as you sob, his arms are holding you so tightly you can feel he must be trying to hold both of you together, but he weeps as well. You stay that way, huddled together, until both of you are empty – no more tears, past feeling, beyond exhaustion – overcome with the grief that Bucky is gone.

There is no body to bury, but Bucky had already stipulated he didn’t want to be buried. He and Steve both stated they wanted to be cremated when their time came to remove temptation for trying to develop any new super soldier serums from their remains.

Without a body, you, Sam and Steve decide burning mementos as part of a funeral bonfire would be a fitting tribute for those who wanted to pay their respects.

The man who so often perpetuated that he was a taciturn and sullen retired assassin had collected a small but mighty community of neighbors, friends, and colleagues who show up on the day. Seeing so many who regarded him as Bucky, James, Sergeant Barnes, or the White Wolf – not HYDRA’s Winter Soldier – gather to say goodbye is a balm to your soul in those days immediately after losing him. You know it will take years and still the vast hole of losing him will never be truly filled, but you don’t want to drown in the depths of despair.

Still, you are a shadow of yourself as you live through the enormous heartache.

Steve comes by to “check in” on you every other day, but it’s always around dinner, and you think he needs someone who feels this much pain over losing him, too, needs to know it’s okay that it still hurts, with someone else who knew him, even though you knew different parts of him. You’re glad because Steve had also become someone you considered one of your own close friends, and a small part of you had worried that without Bucky to tie you two together Steve might have disappeared as well.

One night about a week after the service, Steve seems a little distracted, and you ask what’s on his mind. He mentions that there have been two deaths reported that Bucky would have been interested in – Senator Stern and Jack Rollins. The senator had already been in treatments for advanced colon cancer, but it appeared there had been a severe reaction with his chemotherapy. Rollins, the former number two on SHIELD’s STRIKE team who was revealed as a HYDRA sleeper agent when Steve exposed them and Bucky escaped and went into hiding, had gone underground himself, a mercenary operating in the shadows of the shadows, but had turned up in an alleyway in Detroit. He’d died of what looked like an aggressive infection from a wound, likely from a violent altercation.

“I know he never pursued vengeance, but I think he would’ve liked to know those two were gone for good. It’s just another thing I won’t get to talk to him about,” Steve says.

“Damn it, Barnes,” you sigh. “This would all be so much easier if he’d been a pain in the ass not worth missing.” 

The ache still hurts, but the small genuine laugh you and Steve share is another tiny piece of healing.

A few days later, you’re curled up on the couch with Alpine who’d been distant and skittish at Bucky’s abrupt extended absence at first, but then finally sensed you were as forlorn as her and largely refuses to leave your side now. It’s late, and you’re starting to fight with your eyes to stay open as you read, when two distinct poundings on the door startle you and Alpine both.

“Who could possibly be here at this hour?” you whisper to Alpine, gently moving her from your lap into a small cocoon of the blanket you’d been wrapped in.

You move to the door as quietly as possible. You don’t want to confirm to whoever’s on the other side that you’re home if you can help it, glad now that you had been too lazy to get up and flip the record in your record player when the music came to an end however long ago.

But when you see the shoulders of the man leaning weakly against your doorframe, a shocked cry bursts out your chest. Your fingers struggle with the locks as you hastily work to throw the door open, and he stumbles in.

You’re quick to try and catch a cold and shaking Bucky Barnes as you close and lock the door behind him.

“Bucky?” Your left hand moves to his bicep to steady him, but your right hand tentatively seeks his.

He seems lost for another moment, but then his other hand comes up to cover yours and when his fingers brush over your wedding ring, he turns his eyes to look at you, and you see the flame of recognition. It’s confirmed and your heart sings when he murmurs your name.

“How are you here?” you ask, desperate to know this is real.

“I promised.”

Your breath hitches. You’d relived the pre-dawn moments of your last morning together in so many dreams, waking up with a tear-stained face too many times to count. “Is it really you?”

You’re not convinced this is any more than a hallucination.

But then he pulls you in and his lips consume yours, and its lips and teeth and crashing, too desperate and too real to deny.

“What do you think?” he growls, breaking the kiss for a moment, leaning his forehead to yours again as he had so many times.

“God, I missed you,” you respond, tears freely spilling down your cheeks.

“God has nothing to do with it.”

His hands grab the collar of the old sweatshirt you’re wearing, and you yelp in surprise as in one swift motion he rips it from top to hem and pulls it down away from your body. He’s never ripped your clothing – he always wanted you to feel safe even in your most vulnerable moments – but if he’s anywhere as close to as desperate as you are in this moment of reunion, it’s no wonder he doesn’t hold back.

Your hands go beneath the collar of his jacket to push it down his arms, and before it hits the floor, he’s already lifting his Henley and undershirt up and off his torso. You quickly unhook your bra and drop it while he yanks off his shoes. Then he’s up, and his lips capture yours again, his metal hand tangling roughly in the hair at the nape of your neck, the other palming your breast. This is truly where you left off the last morning you saw him, and you’re entirely overcome – by the grief that has enveloped you the past two weeks, the release of relief, confusion, but, more than anything else, your love and lust, blazing out from the depths of your soul. He sinks to his knees, pulling you with him, then pushing you back to the floor, the hard wood solid against your spine while he hovers over you, his lips moving down to your neck, kissing and sucking, nipping at your collarbone. Then his hungry mouth latches onto your other breast, alternating between sucking the nipple and teasing his tongue over it, drawing a moan from your lips.

Your hands seek every part of his bare skin they can reach, running over his face, his neck, in his hair, gripping his shoulders, up and down his arms, the planes of his stomach, his broad back. Then you pull his head back up to you, needing his lips against yours. You need him more than you need to breathe.

He pulls down your underwear, and you work at his belt and zipper, and in the next moment, he’s plunged fully inside you, bottoming out in your wet heat, and any pain is welcome, less painful than your heartache without him. He doesn’t let you take a breath to get used to the fullness of his cock inside you again before he’s already setting a quick pace, thrusting in and out brutally. You whimper against his lips, but you don’t want him to stop.

“I didn’t want to believe you were gone.”

“’m never leaving you again,” he swears.

You’re hit with a fresh wave of tears at his words and with a shift in his hips, his cock now hitting at a different angle, pressing furiously now against that most pleasurable spot up against your pubic bone.

“More,” you moan, and he grunts and gives you exactly that, more force as he ploughs into you.

Your walls clench around him, and he reaches down to pinch your clit, biting down on your lip at the same time, and it all pushes you over the edge, and you cling to him as your orgasm shakes you. He continues to fuck you through the waves, not slowing his pace or his force, and you whimper, but with no desire for him to stop. Every brutal thrust is primal, and you need to feel this as much as he does.

Finally, his movement stutters and then he’s filling you with his hot seed, his head tucked in the crook of your neck, hot heavy breaths against your skin. His pace slows, but he continues to pump into you until he’s finished, then collapses fully onto you. You welcome the weight of him, another reassurance he’s really here. You thread your fingers through his hair, no thoughts of moving.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” you say softly.

Bucky raises his head to look at you. His expression is unfamiliar – haunted, hungry. It’s unsettling. Or it should be.

“You’re still cold, Buck,” you note, moving a hand to stroke his cheek. Immediate intensity of your reunion starting to abate, and now you begin to assess and worry over him.

He moves quickly, standing up, then scooping you from the floor and pulling you into his arms, you wrap your legs around his waist. His destination is the bathroom where he deposits you on the counter before turning to the shower, twisting the knobs to initiate the stream of hot water. As you’re securing your hair up and out of the way, he drops his pants to the floor, and then the two of you step naked into the shower.

The hot water pours over your skin. Enclosed by the sanctuary of tile and glass, in here he kisses you as if it’s as essential as breathing, slow and concentrated. It’s still overwhelming, but it’s not the same frenetic desperation he took you with on the floor, and time flows by just like the rivulets over your skin, until you realize the temperature of the water is cooling.

A small laugh bubbles up from your chest, and you pull away from his lips. He tries eagerly to follow, but you gently cover his mouth with your fingers. “Let’s get you cleaned up before we lose the hot water completely.”

Bucky sighs, but nods meekly. You turn to see only your things in the shower, and it’s only a half of a second that you bite your lip before pushing out of the glass door, not caring that you’re dripping water all over the floor but do take care not to slip as you take the few steps to across the bathroom to the cupboard. You had removed Bucky’s toiletries from the shower, the counter, and his designated shelves behind the mirror so you wouldn’t be constantly reminded of his absence but couldn’t bring yourself to throw them out and had only been able to stash them in a box. You slide the box from the shelf, set it on the counter, quickly fish out his shower gel and shampoo, and return to him and the shower.

Bucky's already soaped up your loofah and gets to work running it over your skin as he has so many times before. You switch him spots to rinse off, then turn your attention to him. You work up the shampoo in your hands, and he bows his head down when you reach up for him. You draw a moan from him as you work your fingers through his hair and massage his scalp and his posture relaxes. You trade places again for a moment to let him rinse the suds out of his hair, then pull him back out of the direct stream so you can wash the rest of him. Neck, shoulders, arms, chest. You tug his vibranium arm to get him to spin around for you, but then you gasp.

“Bucky!”

Your fingers skim over burns below one shoulder blade, and he tries to turn back to face you, but you press your left hand firmly against him to keep him there as you continue to examine him. You knew every freckle and mole on his skin, the scars he had before, and these are new. So, too, are some bruises, and there’s even a gash lower on his side.

“Bucky, what happened?”

He’s slow to turn back and face you now, and there’s a deep furrow in his brow, the haunted look is back in his eyes, and he’s frowning. Your heart aches while you wait for him to speak.

You take his hand and gently tighten your grip, trying to reassure him that you’re here, that there’s no rush for him to answer.

After another moment, he finally answers, but he drops his gaze to the floor. “I don’t remember everything that happened. It’s just fragments.”

Setting aside the foam sponge you were using, you take a half step closer to him and cup his cheek, urging him to look back at you. “You’re here now. We’ll figure it out together.”

He engulfs you in another kiss. The heat and urgency grows, and then you two quickly rinse off the suds from his scrubbing down, and you’re escaping the shower, quickly toweling each other down, and Bucky pulls you to your bedroom and buries himself again in you. He’s relentless, taking you apart for hours, pulling orgasms from you, spilling his own into you, until you’re beyond spent, unable to move a muscle. Only then does he sink into the mattress next to you, pulling you into his side, you burrow happily against him, and he pulls the sheets and blankets up and around you both.

“Sleep well, my love.”

When you wake in the morning, you feel the sun on your face and fingers softly stroking up and down your back, and you sigh in contentment. A moment later your eyes fly open, and you shoot up in bed, your heart skipping a beat as you lock eyes with Bucky. You’d been so consumed by grief and conditioned yourself to coping with his absence that the reality of having him back hit you anew, and a laugh bubbled out of your chest even as you heaved a small sob.

“You’re really here,” you say softly, confirming it, reconditioning your brain.

“Never leaving you again,” he promises, pulling you close and wiping the few happy tears that spilled over your cheeks.

Tucked in under his right arm, you rest your cheek on his shoulder and let your fingers come up to trace lazy patterns over his chest, reacquainting yourself with the planes of his body. “I thought I had dreamed all of it.”

“This is not a dream.”

You shift slightly and laugh. “Yeah, my muscles are saying last night was very real. Can’t conjure up this kind of soreness in a dream, and I’m sure I’ve got bruises.”

“I’d apologize, but…”

He can’t see it, but you roll your eyes. “Bucky, I’ve always said I’d tell you if I ever needed you to stop, if you ever really hurt me.”

He huffs.

“Speaking of bruises,” you continue, letting your hand move to the side of his torso where you had discovered the gash in the shower. It’s still there. You lean up on your elbow and with your other hand, push up under his back, urging him to roll up onto his side. He tuts impatiently but indulges you all the same. Your fingers skim over the same bruising and burn marks that remain unhealed on his back. “Why are these still here? You always heal so quickly.”

He rolls onto his back again, looking at your concerned face. “I don’t know.” Your frown deepens. “No, I really don’t know, but they don’t hurt either.”

You sigh. “Okay, okay. But you’re also looking pretty peckish-“

“Peckish?” he interrupts, a smirk on his face. “I don’t think that means exactly what you think it means. How much BBC have you been watching lately?”

“Fine! Gaunt! You’re looking pretty gaunt for my super soldier, and I at least know how to fix that, so can we go make a ridiculously big breakfast?”

This had been a routine weekend ritual for the two of you, so you fall naturally into your roles in the kitchen, moving around each other to prepare your typical feast. Bucky is on waffle duty, in addition to making coffee and cutting up strawberries and bananas. You take care of scrambled eggs and frying up sausages and thick slices of tomato. The two of you know your timings, and you’re placing everything on the table around the same time.

He looks at the different dishes laid across the table, studying them. You watch his face, reaching slowly to spear a waffle with your fork. “Bucky? Everything alright?”

“Hmm?” He blinks and shakes his head before looking at you. “Of course, just… been a long time.”

You smile, but it’s a sad smile. He’s here now, but it doesn’t erase the weeks of pain your heart crawled through day by day, alone at this table, in this kitchen, in your bedroom, in this home you’d built with him.

“Tell me what you read this week,” he says, starting to pile food on his own plate.

And then you two fall into your rhythm. In your job as a literary agent, you read incessantly, and in a relationship with a man who turned out to be quite a book nerd, you’d established that you didn’t talk about books every night so you could have some off time from your job at the end of each day, but he was an eager listener each Saturday morning, and at the end of the week you always had an array to talk over with him. He would take seconds, and often thirds, while you spoke, and today was a dive back into that.

After an hour, the two of you cleared up the table, put the food away, did the dishes. As you do, Bucky eyes are on you constantly, and he takes any opportunity to touch you that the mundane tasks afford, a hand on your back as you pass each other putting things away, fingers brushing your skin when you hand him dishes, standing shoulder to shoulder at the kitchen sink.

As you close the cupboard, you turn and find Bucky moving to press you up against the counter, his arms bracing the marble edge on either side of you, and he slots his lips over yours, kissing you with a hunger that takes your breath away, and your fingers take desperate purchase clinging to the green t-shirt he’d thrown on with a pair of sweats.

When you finally break away to gulp in a lungful of air, he nips down your neck, then spins you around to face the counter and kneels behind you, yanking down your shorts and underwear with both hands, and you lean forward against the counter as he forces you to swiftly step out of them. Then he’s nudging your legs apart and burying his face into the apex of your legs, first biting at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, making you keen. Bucky makes one slow, torturous lick along your folds before going at your core with abandon, licking, sucking, slipping his tongue into your pussy, teasing your clit, bringing you to the edge. He backs off completely, and you whimper. “Bucky, no! More!”

He chuckles darkly, caressing the round curves of your hips. “More?”

“Need you. So close.”

He picks up again, but slowly, teasing you more, making you a whimpering mess, desperate for him. Your legs tremble, and you push back against his face, urging him to push you into waves of ecstasy.

Suddenly he backs off again, but he stands quickly, turns you around, and pushes you up onto the counter. He pushes his pants down, and you wrap your legs around him. Bucky sinks into you, but doesn’t move yet, instead demanding more kisses. You taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

“Take me back to bed,” you finally gasp out against his lips.

He nods and lifts you off the counter while keeping his cock inside you and takes you back to the bedroom. He tosses you onto the mattress, and you shuck your own clothes off, tossing them to the side, while he hastily removes his own and joins you on the bed. You push him down onto his back and straddle his hips. His hands move smoothly up your thighs as you reach down and guide his cock into your slick folds. You sink down slowly, and you both moan at the sensation. You close your eyes, but you can feel he’s watching your face. Your move your hands down to twine with his at your hips, and you gradually begin to move above him, raising and lowering yourself unhurriedly.

Since the very beginning taking Bucky as your lover, it’s always undulated between fast and slow, but with passion burning steadily through all of it. His every move, every touch, has always felt more intentional and cherished than everyone who came before. It consumed you in those early days, and he’s consuming you again now.

After a few minutes though, Bucky is not satisfied with the pace, and he sits up to take more control. With your faces close again, his hands move your hips up and down more quickly, setting a blistering pace, racing to another climax for you both, and you’ve no complaint, head falling back. He plants hot kisses along the column of your throat, his hands moving up your back, kneading, almost pinching the flesh as he clutches and clings to your shoulder blades.

He can feel you clenching down on him, knows your close, and he brings his metal hand around to reach down where your bodies meet in the thrusts, and rubs the small, tight circles over your swollen bud. Just another moment, and you let out a sob as another orgasm rolls over you, pulling him over the edge with you as your walls constrict around him. He grunts and holds you down, rocking your hips together back and forth as he shoots his hot sperm inside your womb.

You’re both breathless as he lays back, pulling you down to rest on his chest.

As your pulses return to normal, you place your hand over his heart, humming in contentment. But then you frown, noting that the skin you were so used to running hotter than anyone else because he’s got that super soldier serum running through his veins is still cooler than it’s supposed to be.

“What is it?” he asks, sensing your mood shift.

“Maybe we should call Dr. Banner and ask him to run a physical.”

He doesn’t answer, but you can feel the hesitance.

“I’m worried is all, Buck. You’re cold, and you’re never cold, and then the lack of healing with your wounds, I think something strange is going on.”

“Something strange is going on,” he admits, “but no Banner, not yet.”

You shake your head and push away, sitting up to look at him, “Why not?”

He earnestly sits up and cups your cheek for a moment, eyes seeking understanding in yours. “I can’t do it – no, I won’t do it again. I just got to a place in my life where I finally felt almost normal, and I don’t want to return to being be the oddity to everyone while I’m putting things back together.”

“What about Steve? He knows you better than anyone.”

He shakes his head. “Not even Steve. I’m not my old self yet, and Steve has seen me broken too many times, I can’t do that to him again. Maybe in a few days.”

You sigh.

“I know you’re worried,” he continues, “but please don’t. I still can’t tell you what happened, but I knew I had to get home, but it took me so long to remember how and to remember why. Someone said promise and I remembered I’d made you a promise. When I got here and you opened the door, when you put your hand on my arm and then I felt your wedding ring, another piece – quite a few pieces actually, it’s one of the reasons I couldn’t stop last night. Every touch put more pieces back into place. I’ll figure this out, but I can’t do this to Steve again.”

You chew the inside of your lip. “He’d want to know.”

“That punk doesn’t get to have everything he wants all the time.”

The comment draws a smile to your face again. Bucky rests his forehead against yours.

“I’m getting more clear pieces all the time; I just don’t know how they all fit together yet.”

“Okay.”

“Besides, you’re wrong about one thing.”

You pull away again, searching his eyes.

Now he is the one with a small smile on his face. “Steve doesn’t know me better than anyone. You do.”

Another kiss.

You melt. You understand. You trust him. You agree. 

Unfortunately, you don’t know what you don’t know. Neither does Bucky.

You spend the rest of the day wrapped up again in each other, the night as well.

Sunday passes much as Saturday had – eating, talking, more sex than you had on the honeymoon. He’s seemingly insatiable, and you’re no less desperate, but also no match for his stamina.

Monday he lets you work, but only just. He convinces you to set up shop in the living room, where he promises to behave, he just wants to be near you, and your heart can’t deny him. He is always near you, almost constantly touching you in some way whether it’s one of you leaning against the other on the couch, holding your feet in his lap, sitting at the table and your knees touching. He lets you read manuscripts, but not for long before exacting more than proximity or the innocent touches from your body. You’re so intoxicated in his return you can’t think of denying him. Even during the night, you sleep more than he does (you always have), and as you drift in and out of consciousness, it’s to the feeling of his hands or his lips on your skin, waxing again between innocent and carnal.

Each morning you feel more and more drained, but you don’t notice the marks until it’s too late.

Tuesday so many of your bones and muscles ache that you draw yourself a hot bath, unable to sleep and waking earlier than you had planned. The sex has been desperate and rough and frequent, and so the bruises on your body seemed natural.

When you step out of the tub, you happen to look over your shoulder in the mirror and see there are a couple of bruises that had bloomed on your back that were much darker than any you’ve had before. You just frown, finish drying off, and get dressed. Part of you longs to go back to bed and back to sleep, but you want to check in and see if you can’t get a few hours of work done. You do call off for the afternoon, and Bucky joins you for an afternoon nap.

You awaken with a gasp. It’s dark outside and Bucky has you on your back, planted between your thighs, his cock thrusting into you the action that woke you up. You clutch at his shoulders, letting him carry you away in the pursuit of more pleasure. He pulls you later into the kitchen to eat, but you’re still so tired that Bucky insists on returning you right back to bed after. You drift off, but not before he’s exacted another orgasm from your body, with his lips on your clit.  

The next morning, you look at the bruises on your back again. They’re still just as black, but now two of them look like they’re starting to open up like wounds. Your stomach floods with dread, and you call for Bucky, trying to keep the edge of panic out of your voice.

When he enters the bathroom, in the mirror you see there’s something that flashes in his eyes when his eyes first take in the planes of your back, but you can’t tell what it is, and it’s gone too quickly. You want to ask, but you’re also too afraid to know what it could be.  

“I…” he starts, then swallows almost imperceptibly. “I was thinking I would go to the store. I’ll get something from the pharmacy for that, but I think we should get you back to bed.”

You’re so bone tired you don’t protest, and even your worry is swept away by your exhaustion. He tucks you in, and you’re already beginning to fall asleep again.

Another long rest seems to help, and you’re able to pull yourself out of bed and into the kitchen. The clock reads that it’s early afternoon, but Bucky is still out. You warm up some soup, toast some bread, and curl up on the couch with your modest meal. You switch the television on and stream some of your favorite reality show; it’s engaging enough to pull your mind a little from worrying about Bucky’s extended absence.

There’s a soft plop, and Alpine has suddenly appeared on the other end of the couch. You extend your right hand out, and she stalks over, nuzzles her head against your hand, and climbs right into your lap as if she hasn’t been absent for days.

You chuckle. “Where were you, you little minx?” It wasn’t uncommon for her to come and go on her own adventures in and out of the home, but she rarely left for so long. “Bucky’s been back since Friday night, and you’ve missed him completely!”

She settles down and purrs as you start petting her, seemingly oblivious to your inquiry and revelation. You turn your attention – as best you can – back to the screen.

Bucky was only supposed to be going to the store, two stores at best, but many episodes later, he’s still not back, and you can’t even contact him because you realize you two haven’t even got him sorted out with a new phone since he’s come back from the dead.

It's dark when you finally hear a key in the lock, and you’re fully alert again, turning to watch him enter, disturbing Alpine asleep in your lap, and she jumps down and darts away.

“Bucky!”

His back to you, he methodically closes and locks the door. When he turns back around, the look on his face makes your heart skip a beat. His eyes are wary. His whole demeanor is tense with dread. He moves slowly toward you.

Adrenaline floods your veins, relieved that he’s back, but worried at his state. “Where were you?” you ask, noting he has returned empty handed. “You were gone for so long.”

He sits down next to you on the couch, positioning himself to face you, never taking his eyes off of you.

“James, talk to me. You’ve got me scared to death.”

He opens his mouth at that, then closes it again. You move closer and take one of his hands in both of yours, pulling it into your lap. “Dying moves lower and lower on the list of bad things that could happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m already dead.”

The blood rushes in your ears, and your heart stops.

“I don’t want you to be afraid.”

A bitter laugh falls from your lips, jumpstarting your breathing again. “A bit late with you talking like that. What happened? Where did you go? Why are you saying this?”

“I told you the other day that pieces were coming back.”

“Right, go on.”

“The marks on your back, they reminded me of a very old piece I didn’t even know was there.”

You nod slowly.

“When I was just a boy, my grandmother’s older sister, my mom’s aunt – so my great Aunt Ida, she came from Sweden to live with family here in the States after her husband died. They didn’t have any children of their own, and my grandmother had written to her and convinced her to come live with her in Brooklyn, because she’d have all of us around.”

Bucky rolls his left shoulder, something you’d noted he would do when he got uncomfortably nervous. You don’t push him, but just wait. He rubs his left hand up and down his leg, then continues.

“Aunt Ida liked to tell stories and read books – got me into books, actually. When my sister was around, she’d tell harmless stories, fairytales and stuff, but a couple of times when it was just me, I’d ask if she knew any scary stories, and she played along, teasing me, get me going. The last time, she told me this old folktale I’d never heard of before or since. She told me about there were souls who were killed but refused to die, souls who were either so tormented in life or who had tormented others so much that they could never be laid to rest.

“She got lost in the tale and before she realized what she was saying, she joked that her husband never wanted to leave Sweden, for years he knew my gran had wanted her to come to America, and she said she was surprised he hadn’t already risen from his grave and followed her to New York. She said it was only a matter of time before he tracked her down. My gran overheard that from the doorway though and screamed and scolded Aunt Ida for suggesting such a thing.

“A couple of weeks later Aunt Ida got pretty ill, I saw her only once more before she died, and she had the same kind of black bruise on her arm that I saw on your back today. Only once did I see my gran draw the two together – I wasn’t supposed to be close by, but I was down the hall when the doctor made a final house call to look over Ida, and my mom had to pull her out of the room. She was hysterical, saying it was this creature I’d never heard the name of before, that it was Ida’s husband, come to pull her away, but I couldn’t remember the name she used.

“But when I saw your bruises, and the way they were opening up like hers, I remembered everything about Aunt Ida and that story. I went to the library. I wasn’t sure where to start, except I figured folklore always starts with roots of truth somewhere in its distant past, so I pulled books on Swedish and Nordic folktales and got to reading.  

“Then I found it. They’re called gengångare, and I know I am one.”

“No!” You had let him go on for some time, fascinated and horrified, not even sure what you would’ve interjected previously, but this you couldn’t believe or agree with.

“I must be. No, don’t cry,” he says, bringing his vibranium fingers up to gently brush away the tears spilling over onto your cheeks. “It explains everything: you said I died, and I’ve remembered a lot about my life before the incident, but almost nothing after, only scattered pieces that are so much slower to come and foggier than my actual life. It explains why my body isn’t the same as it was – I ignored every time you said my skin was colder, didn’t want to think my body wasn’t healing, but I’m not feeling any pain with those injuries either. I’ve been so desperate to touch you, to please you, because the heat and the physical sensations – especially the pleasure – I can feel something of that.”

He pauses, his expression changing slightly before he continues. “It explains why loose ends from my past have turned up dead in these past weeks.”

You have to move away from him, have to think. This is too much.

You stand abruptly from the couch and start pacing, but you only manage to take a step or two before you sway and have to steady yourself with a hand on the mantle so you don’t fall. Bucky is at your side in an instant. He’s calling your name, but you feel so lightheaded, and it sounds like he’s miles away instead of right next to you, holding your arm.

You blink and try to shake your head to clear it.

The cool vibranium of his hand is suddenly on your face, pressing against your forehead, then your cheek, your neck, and your cheek again. “You’re burning up,” he mutters.

You remember his enhanced hand can register temperatures.

He scoops you up bridal style into his arms and takes you to the bed you share for the last time.

“The gengångare went after souls,” he continues to explain, “trying to pinch and pull at their life, whether to steal them away into death or try to just pull some life back into their own souls, they couldn’t seem to control their draw fully one way or the other.”

Bucky seats you on the edge of the bed, and you remain quiet. Truly, what could you say?

He plants a kiss on your forehead. You don’t fight him when he reaches for the hem of your shirt to pull it up and over your head. He turns your body so he can examine your back again, and his breath hitches. When you turn back and meet his eyes again, your heart sinks because his are full of resignation.

“I should have known it was too good for us to be happy. Taken from you after our honeymoon, brought back in a cursed state, doomed to lose you.”

“What now?

He lifts his own shirt up over his head and lets it drop to the floor.

“You’ll be consumed by what loves you. Ruined.”

He steps out of his boots, unbuckles his belt, and unfastens his jeans, sliding them to the floor.

Another tear slips slowly down your cheek, and he falls to his knees in front of you, fingers brushing the tears away. Then his fingers continue trailing down your neck and ghosting over the lace trim of your bra over the swell of your breast, making you shiver, terror and yet desire for him surging through your veins.

“You’re still so beautiful here at the end,” he whispers, his other hand smoothing up your leg.

Not knowing what else to do, your hands reach out and cup his face, drawing him to your lips. He kisses you so deliberately.

Bucky releases the clasp of your bra, you shrug it off your shoulders, and he pulls it away, tossed onto the floor in the heap with the rest. He pushes you back further on the bed and lays you down gently. The places you know those horrific bruise wounds should be feel numb against the sheets. He draws your panties down, discarding them as well.

Worshipping you as he has so many times, he hovers over your body, kissing your neck, your heaving chest, your breasts, while the skilled fingers of the assassin delve into your folds, drawing the wetness from the heat there, touching you in the way he knows your body craves. His fingers slip into you while his thumb rubs over your clit. He finds the tender spot within your pussy so easily, and you moan and whimper, one hand clutching his shoulder, the other tangling into the sheets.

You can only manage a short scream with your release, and though he was slow in the first stages, now he’s feral, wasting no time kneeling between your thighs and plunging his cock into you. It jerks you, but he pays no attention. He’s chasing with abandon now, both hands gripping your hips as he thrusts in earnest, bottoming out with tremendous force each time. The fullness, the force, it’s so much pain and pleasure with each stroke that you sob, clinging to him as another orgasm washes over you. His face is buried in your neck, and he cries out, his own climax coming soon after as your walls contract around his full cock. He pumps you full of his seed, moving until he’s empty, everything and every emotion poured from him into you.

He drops onto you, his energy fully spent. Once he’s recovered enough, he moves off of you, rolling to the side, and pulling you with him, chest to chest, face to face. His vibranium arm holds you close, and his other hand gently pushes some of your hair out of your face.

You look at him for a moment, but you can feel you’re slipping out of consciousness. So tired.

“Don’t be afraid. Dying is much easier than living.”

His blue eyes, darker than you’ve ever seen them before, are the last thing you see.

He whispers quietly to you in the dark as you fade away. He wouldn’t let Steve see him like this. He’d pulled you away from life, he wouldn’t do it to another now that he knew. He would return to Russia, so fitting to go to where so much else went wrong for him, and vanish in Siberia, waste away where he would never be a danger ever again.

Then after a while, he falls silent, wanting to hear the rest of your heartbeats while they last.

Then finally, he murmurs his goodbye.

“Sleep well, my love.”

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

Writer commentary available here as part of the 2023 Dark Forest Fest

More detailed author notes...

First, LONGEST ONE-SHOT I'VE EVER WRITTEN (I've got some very old HP fandom days under my belt from many years ago, just not attached to this tumblr account). Just kidding. I lost my masterlist, and so I'm going back through my fics and saw that Into Dust actually almost hit 9k.

Second, Into Dust was only a slightly dark fic, but this was a. dark. plot. I was stoked to write something for spooky season, and when I got the line part of the prompt, it wasn't exactly what I was expecting, so I... knew I wanted to go into some uncharted territory. This year I've been turning toward discovering my own ancestral heritage instead of just "being American." My ancestry DNA test reports that I'm a RIDICULOUS AMOUNT of Swedish - like almost half my ancestry. I've had an affinity for Sweden for ages - have friends who moved there, have been able to visit once myself and completely fell in love, half the stuff I own is from Ikea, etc, etc.

So with this, I was initially thinking, what's a folktale or fairytale or halloween thing that I could use that's not totally overdone... but then I thought, wait, I'm trying to learn more about my Swedish heritage anyway, so why not see if there are some creepy awesome SWEDISH folklore elements I could research and explore. I googled "Swedish folklore monsters" and started combing through different top 10/top 5/top 15/top 20 lists, and this Gengångare came up across most of them, and the concept intrigued me. I think I stayed true to about 90% of what my deeper digging led me to. Anyway... if anyone is more interested, let me know/send me an ask/whatever and I can share more of what I found and catalogued away.

[of-apollo]

“ NAVIGATION ”

—> IMPORTANT LINKS:

Masterlist

Wattpad

AO3

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Ship requests

Request rules and fandom list below the cut ->

—> WHO I WRITE FOR:

Ted Lasso: Dani Rojas, Sam Obisanya, Jamie Tartt, Ted Lasso, Rebecca Welton and Keeley Jones

MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff and Yelena Belova

Good Omens: Furfur

BBC Ghosts: Thomas Thorne, Alison Cooper, Kitty

BBC Merlin: Gwaine, Lancelot, Arthur, Guinevere, Morgana

Les Miserables: Enjolras, Grantaire, Eponine, Cosette

ASSORTED: Black Noir (The Boys), Miguel O’Hara (Spiderverse), Apollo (PJO)

- PLATONIC ONLY:

WWDITS: Nandor, Guillermo, Nadja, Laszlo

Good Omens: Aziraphale, Crowley

BBC Ghosts: The Captain, Pat Butcher, Fanny Button, Mary

Please feel free to ask about other fandoms that I repost/mention! These are just the ones I am 100% comfortable in writing currently, but I am willing to consider others upon request!

—> REQUEST RULES:

I will NOT write about: pregnancy, suicide, self harm, prejudice/discrimination or any level of smut.

I write headcanons or imagines, so please clarify which you’d prefer. Otherwise, I’ll choose what I think fits the request best.

I use they/them pronouns for all of my writing, but I will consider using she/her upon request.

If you are unsure of any of these rules, please feel free to DM me or send an ask for clarification!

—> BLOG RULES:

My asks are always open, whether for something writing related or just a chat! Just please be kind and respectful when you visit my blog! :)

My requests are always open, and you are free to send more than one at a time (I’d cap it at five, please don’t go overboard!).

A bit about me: I’m Welsh, a history lover and musical theatre nerd. I also love Taylor Swift a whole lot. Talk to me about any of those things, you have my heart.

[oktobersilver]

☆My Pretty Barbarella☆

john taylor x reader!!!!

SUMMARY: Your childhood friend Simon introduces you to his band, but you can't peel your eyes away from one particular bassist, only to find out he can't either.

warnings: smut, oral sex

enjoy!!

Y/N's good friend, Simon, was finally going to introduce you to his band that he'd always talk about. You were nervous about the fact you'd never met any of the members before, you hardly even knew their names, let alone how they'd treat you. But, you knew that if Simon liked them, they had to be good people. "Hey, Y/N, we're here!" Simon cheerfully announced, turning towards you from the driver's seat. "Are you really sure that they'll like me? I mean, this is your band, I wouldn't want to make a bad impression or anything" Y/N anxiously admitted, you couldn't stop worrying about making a good first impression for some reason.

Y/N and Simon walked into the studio, smiling brightly at the two men in the main room.

"Andy, Roger, this is Y/N! I've known her since primary school, we've been close ever since" Simon said, patting your back.

You smiled at the two, shaking their hands as they flashed a smile at Y/N.

"Nice to finally meet you, Y/N." Andy said, nudging at Roger to speak.

"It's very nice to meet you, Y/N, I'm glad Simon has someone close outside of the band" Roger said, clearing his throat.

Simon looked across the room as Nick & John walked out of the recording room, motioning for them to come over. Y/N looked up at the two men, instantly noticing one of them was really, really good-looking.

"John, Nick, meet Y/N! Andy & Roger already met her not too long ago"

Y/N gave the two men a bright smile, shaking their hands as well but you had to admit, John was really, well, he was gorgeous.

Y/N thought you caught him looking you up and down, but just figured it was your imagination, but what if it wasn't?

Simon and most of the guys went off to the recording room, Roger went outside for some fresh air, leaving Y/N & John in the main room.

After a minute or two, Y/N glanced at John, clearing your throat.

"So, what instrument do you play, John?" Y/N asked the man, as you leaned against the couch, slightly tilting your head in curiosity.

The tall man glanced at Y/N up and down, quickly before answering

"I play bass, but I started out playing just regular guitar at first." He said, fully turning his attention to Y/N.

"Do you play anything?" He asked politely. Y/N smiled at him, "I've always liked bass, I think it deserves more attention, and I used to play guitar in highschool, but I don't really play anymore now." Y/N answered, looking at John as you subtly bit your lower lip.

"So...what have you been up to?" Y/N asked him, crossing one leg over the other.

John quickly licked his upper lip before answering, "Nothing too much, I have been in need of something, it's been pretty tame for the past couple months". He said, walking just a bit closer.

Y/N grinned at him, crossing her arms as she looked at the man.

"And what exactly are you in need of? You're not being very specific, Mr. Taylor." You said teasingly, maybe he really had been looking at you like that, it's not like you were completely oblivious.

John leaned down close infront of you, his blonde fringe ever so slightly covering his eyes as he gazed upon Y/N.

"What do you think? I'm not stupid, I've noticed that look you've been giving me from the moment I entered the room, pretty girl." He murmured, the tone of his voice walloping throughout her chest.

"How about you show me then?" Y/N whispered, gently kissing the side of John's neck.

He peered down at her, taking her into a sharp, but dirty kiss, he couldn't help but revel in the feeling of their tongues sliding together.

A soft moan escaped from Y/N's mouth as John perched his leg between hers, trailing his hands beneath her shirt, grazing her hips.

"John.." Y/N murmured, looping her fingers through the belt loops of his trousers, tugging at it.

"Does that feel good sweetheart?" He hummed, taking her back into a deep, filthy kiss, making his way through her mouth with his tongue.

Y/N sat back on the couch, followed by a cry of pleasure, hardly breaking contact with John's mouth.

"Take this off for me, princess." He said, kissing down Y/N's neck as they both stripped of their clothes.

John trailed his hand down Y/N's waist, teasing at the start of her clit, increasing his pace.

"Please! John, please" Y/N cried out, "Please, please baby." Y/N moaned, slinging her arm across his back as he enveloped her tongue in a deep, passionate kiss.

"Are you already this desperate for me?" He teased, situating himself lower, lining his mouth up with her pussy.

Y/N could feel her orgasm beginning to pit in her stomach, John then left a drawn out lick across her pussy, feeling her thighs tense around his face as he continued eating her out.

She tugged at his hair, twisting her fingers through his blonde fringe as another whine escaped from between her lips, cursing profanities under her sharp breath as the man worked his mouth beneath her.

He could feel her legs tense around him, John lifted his face away from her pussy, leaning back up to Y/N as she cupped his face, running her thumb across his lips.

"You're beautiful like this, Y/N, I swear I'm gonna ruin you for anyone else." John muttered, gazing into her eyes before he lined himself up with her pussy.

"Please John, you already have, I'm yours to keep." Y/N whined out, still getting used to the feeling of her pitting orgasm.

John rocked into her, filling her pussy with the entire length of his cock, letting out a low moan, slowly but deeply rocking inside of her.

Y/N let out a cry of pleasure, arching her back as she dug her nails into the couch, rolling her eyes back as John picked up his pace.

"John, please, fuck me, please!" Y/N moaned out, John threw his head back in pleasure, hitting deeper and deeper inside of her as he leaned his body down closer to her, leaving her neck with deep, red and purple marks.

Y/N slung her arms around him, clawing at his back as he slammed inside of her, pushing her closer and closer to her climax.

John whimpered, feeling his orgasm curl inside of him as Y/N whined and moaned all for him, wrapping her legs around his hips, trying to get as close as possible.

His cock slammed throughout her, sending a shock of her upcoming orgasm through her spine, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

"I think I'm close, please! I need you, John, I need all of you." Y/N groaned out, bucking her hips up against the man.

His dick continued filling her walls, chasing the pleasure of his upcoming orgasm, heavily rocking inside of Y/N.

John leaned down towards her, attempting to kiss her, but only ended up panting inside of each other's mouths, spitting profanities & pornographic moans as they both hit their climax together as he came inside of Y/N, both riding out their highs.

"Are you okay?" John asked, wrapping his arms around Y/N.

She looked up and nodded, kissing him tenderly as he put his hand on the side of her neck.

John grinned, "Who ended up bruising my pretty baby this bad?" He huffed sarcastically, pressing a soft kiss to her skin as the pair cuddled up to eachother.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she nudged his chest, "I wonder who".

"Y'know, maybe you could convince Simon to bring you around here more often." John teased, kissing her temple.

"Maybe".

⊰ End ⊰

[sweet-demiboi]

Roger Taylor x Male!Reader

Warnings: smut, obviously, light chocking, Top!Roger, Bottom!M!Reader, not really a dom/sub dynamic, you get a cramp and you have to take a break, missionary/doggy position, trans dudes/poc can read this Ig (the word dick isn't really specified and only used once for M!Reader, so I think you could imagine it as tdick)

Summary: The first time you have sex after Roger is back from a tour - with a little accident.

No Fem!Readers, please!

"Mhh, Rog~", you moaned.

Roger had been on tour, so you hadn't seen each other for weeks, the only thing you could use for a bit of contact were telephones. Usually though, you were in different time zones which made it hard for both of you to talk to the other.

The reunion after such a long period of time was always nice though, falling in each other's arms, laughing and telling stories with gleaming eyes. The first kiss was also always just as amazing. You loved Roger's soft lips all the time, but they seemed to feel even better when you hadn't kissed him for long.

And it had become a kind of tradition for you to immediately get each other out of their clothes when you set foot in your shared apartment. You both absolutely loved the get-back-together-sex. It was rough from all the emotions and lust, you both had to keep at bay for weeks.

In those moments you felt an intense connection, time seemed to slow down, the world was focused on you, and your eyes always locked.

In those moments with rough hands feeling each other up, hickeys sucked into skin, and rough fucking, there also always were soft, slow kisses, when Roger was fully inside you for the first time. There was his breath out, closing his eyes, just being at peace because he was finally able to feel you again.

Then he would smile at you, lean down, cradle one hand at your neck, and kiss your lips ever so softly. In his eyes, you deserved soft touches from him and he loved providing you with such.

Then he would start to move, making you moan and claw at his back. Often times you would cry some tears of pleasure, which deepened Roger's want.

His favorite position in this situation was you on your back, under him, and your legs spread as widely as they could go, letting him see and feel up your thighs. You being sprawled out under him was one of his favorite sights. He was able to touch you anywhere he wanted, see every emotion flickering over your face, hear every moan, grunt, or cry come out of your mouth, and watch your chest heaving with deep breaths.

He loved to see the man of his dreams like this. His perfect boyfriend. In one moment he would caress your cheek and in the next wrap his hand around your neck, making you groan.

Right in this moment, he was.

"You like that, baby?", a rhethorical question. Your eyes, hands on his wrist and glistening chest were telling him everything, already.

"Fuck, yeah", you breathed out "I missed you so much" He chuckled at that "Missed you too, baby" He squeezed your neck, making you moan lightly. He bit his lip at that "You look even better with my hand wrapped around your neck like that"

You chuckled lightly, out of breath, and searched for his eyes "I think so too" Next, you let yourself get lost in pleasure, closing your eyes allowed you to feel the contact even more intense. Him, being inside you, pulling out and pushing in, hitting your sweet spot dead on with every thrust of his hips.

His one hand wrapped around your throat, not making it particularily harder to breathe, just gripping it, which you absolutely loved.

Your hands wandered to his hips, feeling the hot skin under your fingertips as well as the motion he was creating. You could feel his muscles move, letting your hands direct him a little, gripping down on him.

This, paired with your closed eyes and breathing going faster told Roger that you were close. He smirked at that and only grazed his fingers over your sex, making you shudder. He started to massage your dick to get you over the edge and right before you were about to come, there was a pain in your thigh.

"Ah, fuck", you moaned in pain "Red, fuck, Roger, pull out" Your eyes snapped open, when your boyfriend immediately pulled out of you after hearing your safeword. You closed your legs, hand coming up over the cramped muscle in reflex. You sat up with a pained expression on your face.

"(Y/N), is everything okay?", Roger's hand was already on your shoulder, trying to provide some sort of comfort. His eyes were nervously flickering over your body, trying to find the reason of your pain "Did I hurt you? Was I being too rough?"

"No", you answered through clenched teeth "It's a cramp" - "Ah, shit, where?" - "Thigh" His hand was over yours in not even a second, pressing down on the aching muscle, until the pain left your body.

"You okay?", he asked, blue eyes looking at you worriedly "No", you cried out "I was just about to come" Roger laughed relieved "I know, love, I'm sorry for you. How about we have a short break and switch position?"

"Yeah", you replied, still a little pissed at your body for ruining your chance at an orgasm.

"That wasn't your fault", your boyfriend reassured you, giving you a kiss on top of your head, and cradling your cheek "Okay?"

"Yes, I know that", you half-smiled at him "It's just annoying when that happens. Especially when you're fucking me this good"

That made Roger grin cockily "We can get back at that" - "Hoped so" Your break was filled with making out, and touching each other, giving you butterflies. It always did, when Roger's tongue in your mouth was involved.

You decided on doggy for your next position, after you had confirmed that your thigh was okay again.

You pressed your cheek against the matraze, sticking out your ass, and arching your back. You knew that Roger loved that. It was confirmed to you after you heard a muttered "Fuck" from your boyfriend. The next thing you felt was him inside you again, pounding you roughly.

This time, you both were able to come. Much quicker than usual, due to the almost-orgasms from before.

After cleaning up, you found yourself laying on Roger's chest, his arms slung around you. "I love you so much, baby", you whispered "I love you too" Roger gave you a soft kiss on the forehead and started to caress your back until you fell asleep.

You were so glad he finally was back. You had missed cuddling like this.

[evakame]

masterlist

🧸 fluff

🌵 angst

🍑 smut

🌙 headcanons

Queen - Roger Taylor

🍑 No lock in the studio

🍑 Pretty voice

🧸 Sassy - Roger x French Reader

The Maze Runner - Gally

🍑 Right Arm Imagine - Gally x Reader

[evakame]

New one shot for my Roger Taylor lovers 💏

(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.

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.

"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."

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.

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, 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?"

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

"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."

"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.

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

"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 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.

"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 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.

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.

“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.”

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.

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.

“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.”

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.

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 love yourself and lean in, gently placing your lips on his.

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.

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.

“I want you so bad, doll.

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

- It’s already mine.”

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. 

[illfoandillfie]

A Different Kind of Eduation: P Is For Pet Play (Chapter 13)

ADKoE MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.

Chapter Summary: Reader learns a few new tricks in Roger's latest lesson.

Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, dom/sub dynamics, dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, dialogue heavy, role play, pet play, puppy play, training, holding, fingering, spanking, collar, butt plug, orgasm delay/cumming on command, a bit of degradation and humiliation

Words: 9951

A/N: I think writing is a winter sport for me. Which is part of why this chapter has been sitting at 85% finished for months. But, the weather is finally cooling down here in Aus and this chapter is finally done! I'm excited for ya'll to read it. Hopefully I've edited it enough lmao

(Also, apologies for any formatting weirdness, it's because tumblr now has rules about how many characters can be used before you have to put in a line break or whatever, so I had to go through and break up some paragraphs into smaller sections. It should still be okay but all my fics are also available over on Ao3 if you wanna read them that way)

As always *** indicates the smut scene.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave@scorpiogemini

@80s-roger @libsterslobsters @okilover02 @cjand10 @dealorgirl32 @youngpastafanmug @onceuponadetectivedemigod @zeida @demo-wise @yuillfandomqueen @tie-ur-mother-down @rogermyreligion​ 

(idk how many of you are still interested in this fic so if you want your name taken off let me know, or if anyone wants to be added i can also do that)

“Don’t you look professional,” Roger had teased, handing you a rather large glass of water in lieu of the wine you’d usually have, as you got settled in the study. You’d gone to his straight from work, so were a little more business casual than what he usually saw you wearing. The break from routine threw you off a little but mostly because you were too early for dinner so went straight to the study for your extra lesson. And you quickly got over it.

“So, pet play,” you’d said once you were settled, prompting Roger to start. “We touched on the basics last time,” he slipped easily into his teacher mode, seeming totally unphased by the change to routine, “but was there anything else you wanted to know?” You thought for a moment, “I guess I’m not totally clear on why people do it. And, like, you said it wasn’t always about having sex? I don’t really get how a scene with an animal can lead to sex but then also kink without sex sounds paradoxical.” “Very reasonable questions.” Roger tapped his whiteboard marker against his palm as he decided where to begin, “Last week I said that there were any number of reasons people might be drawn to role play and that includes pet play. Different people like it for different reasons. But I suspect thats not really what you were asking about.” You hummed and nodded your head, “Yeah, I guess my big question is why animals? Why don’t just do the naughty nurse thing or whatever.”

“Look, pet play isn’t something I am incredibly familiar with, certainly not when you compare it to other aspects of BDSM, so I can’t pretend to be an expert and I can really only speculate on some reasons people might be drawn to it. From what I’ve seen of it and the people I know who dabble in it, I think pet play offers an element of creativity that some other kinks don’t always seem to have. Creating your pet’s personality or even the costume you wear. Which isn’t to say roleplaying as anything else doesn’t also have those aspects, but I think for some people working out how to act like an animal can be more of a creative challenge or something more long term than your typical role play concepts. A person sinking money into animal inspired fetish gear is going to be inclined to revisit the role play multiple times, expanding on it, experimenting with it. But really, I think for most people, it’s not inherently about the animal, per se, but the animal opens up opportunities for exploration that other role plays may not. We established last week that part of what may draw people to role play is acting like someone else. You can be more demanding, or more sultry, or more adventurous than you regularly feel. Pet play just pushes that idea a bit further. Depending on the animal you choose and their temperament, it might be as far from you as you can possibly get.”

“Mmmm,okay,” “I know it seems a little contradictory to say it’s not about the animal while trying to explain why other role plays may not appeal the same way.” “Just a bit,” “It is important to keep that in mind though, especially while we discuss how pet play can be incorporated into a sexual dynamic. It’s not acting out bestiality. It’s about roles – someone being in control of someone else in a concrete ownership way – and it's about scenarios that connect with the chosen pet. The way people who take on a canine persona act will likely be vastly different from those that take on an equine persona. And the scenes they choose to play out will in all likelihood be quite different too. For instance, a pony play scene might be physically demanding to simulate a racing experience – being ridden, using a crop, that sort of thing – or it might be an exploration of breeding through a scenario where the horse is put out to stud, or, for those who are more into a show horse type aspect, it might be more about dressing up in costumes – masks and hoof mitts or leather bodysuits - and being shown off at live kink events, maybe even performing a dressage inspire routine.” “Sorry, hoof mitts?” “A type of bondage gear, not always used for pet play. Basically, they’re something submissives can wear over their hands or arms as a type of restraint. They make it impossible to hold or grab things and sometimes they can represent animal paws or hoofs.” “Jesus, alright.” Roger chuckled, “We really are only scratching the surface with these lessons. Anyway, another example, cow play also known by the term HuCow, a portmantau of human and cow. Any guesses what that might entail?” “If you say milking,” “Ding ding ding, we have a winner,” “No way,” you snorted.

Roger shrugged, “It’s not a crazy as it sounds. Lactation fetishes aren’t all that rare, which probably says something about the way breasts are viewed and sexualised but that’s a discussion for another time. But also, it doesn’t have to involve actual lactation, it could just be about squeezing the breasts or even “milking” a penis until it ejaculates. HuCow scenes can tick a number of boxes for people. Those with breast or pec fetishes might like it for the emphasis it can put on that part of the body. There is, like with pony play, a potential for exploring a breeding kink, both as a cow or a bull. You can also get into some gender based kinks like forced feminsation and the like. A male identifying person could be made to act as a female cow, maybe dress in a cow print bikini and have their nipples stimulated as if they were being milked.” “Huh. Okay, that’s very specific. I guess I can see why some animal role plays might appeal to people more than other ones would. So, if we did do something with pet play, would you um, like me to be a, a cow?” “If you were drawn to the idea, I’d be happy to explore that with you. But I was thinking something more along the lines of puppy play.” “So no milking?” you teased, hoping to cut through some of your awkwardness with humour.

Roger smiled, “No milking, no. The first thing that came to mind was a training type scene. It’s fairly classic in the world of puppy play but with good reason. Training is a big part of owning a puppy, reinforcing desired behaviours, teaching them what behaviour is acceptable, teaching them tricks. But training can also be part of many other kinks and sexual dynamic. Sometimes it’s intentional training, sometimes more subconscious in just aiming to handle more intense sensations or to explore wider within a preferred kink. Impact play fans might train to be able to enjoy being struck with a crop instead of just a paddle. Someone might do throat training to be able to deep throat more comfortably. A dom might train a submissive to say thank you after a spanking or to ask permission to cum before each orgasm. We’ve done some light anal training in that I gave you a plug and you wore it to help adjust to the sensation and so you could take me better that way. It’d be my hope that, if you were inclined to try it, a scene about training might be easier to enjoy than something more out there like milking. You don’t have to respond yet,” Roger hastened to add, “I still want to answer your second question before we even think about prac.”

You were relieved Roger didn’t require an immediate answer and that he hadn’t forgotten your initial questions because you weren’t sure you could make a decision without knowing more. But you supposed you could also see the logic in his idea and, the way he’d explained it, training didn’t seem as scary as some of the other things he’d mentioned.

“So the second part of your question is a little more complex.” He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, “You were curious how pet play can lead to sex when one person is acting like a literal animal. The answer is, the same way any other kink can lead to sex. Remember, it’s not about the animal, it’s about the dynamics. Playing as owner and pet is often just a variation of dom and sub – there's the power element, control, the stuff we’ve talked about in nearly every lesson. And, like I said before, the person taking on the pet role is probably also taking on a different personality than normal so that can contribute to the sex. But a large part of the kink community, I would even hazard a guess that it’s the majority, would tell you that any kink can also be fun when there’s no sex involved. With pet play specifically, it’s a fun excuse to dress up, to play, or curl up with someone you care about and have a nap. It can be comforting to feel as if someone owns you when you wear a collar for them. There is tenderness in having your hair brushed and being petted, feeling looked after and cared for. Pet play can just be a different way to express affection for someone.” “Not gonna lie, that sounds kinda nice.” “It really is. That doesn’t just go for pet play either. It is entirely possible to be in a kinky partnership with someone and never have sex. You will find that every single kink we have covered, someone out there enjoys it in a non-sexual way. Bondage, impact play, sensation play, you name it. Though, of course, different people define sex differently and have different boundaries around it. Go to enough kink events and munches and you realise how wide the spectrums for these sorts of things are.”

“So like, they’ll just be tied up and not fuck?” Roger chuckled, “Yeah, sometimes it really is just about the sensations and emotions involved in being restrained. If you continue to explore kinks after, uh, well after we complete this course, you may find that kinks you considered challenging or uncomfortable become more enjoyable when penetrative sex, or any sexual touch at all, isn’t part of it. It’s just about experimenting and figuring out what you enjoy and then defining those boundaries.” You felt a little sad at the reminder that your tutoring would eventually stop but tried not to show it too much. You figured that, as much as Roger might say he enjoyed teaching you, he was probably also at least somewhat looking forward to their end, just to be done with the risks to his teaching position if nothing else.

“Now, not to completely undercut that idea,” Roger said, pulling your attention back to his lesson, “but, if you are curious and okay with trying pet play, I was intending on steering it in a more sexual direction. That is the core point of these lessons after all, to learn about kink and how to safely incorporate it into sex. Of course, it’s helpful to keep in mind that what I’m teaching you isn’t the only way to enjoy these kinks and that enjoying being spanked or called names or engaging in role play doesn’t require an enjoyment of any sort of sex; but sex is kind of what we’re here for.” “So what are you thinking then?” “I’ve already suggested puppy play but did you have any other ideas yourself? I don’t want to tell you what pet to be if there's an idea that interested you or something you’re more drawn to. Role playing as a pet might feel a bit different to role playing as my groupie, and I’d prefer you to be comfortable with the selection than just to do what I want.”

“I don’t know, um, I guess my only thought was just not a cow.” You gave a little shrug, feeling pleased when Roger laughed, “If you think puppy play is a good staring point for me, then I’m happy to go with that. How exactly would it lead to sex though? I’m still not sure I understand that part of pet play.” Roger hummed in thought, “I think obedience and training is a very easy way to incorporate sex into a puppy play scene. I can reward you with physical touch when you obey my orders, or punish you if you don’t. Remember, you’re not being a dog you’re taking on personality traits and actions that align with behaviour common to dogs, but you’re a consenting adult who likes being spanked, so, if you want that tonight, I can do it.” “I want it,” you said with an eager nod, the thought alone enough to make you squirm a little in your seat. Roger smiled, “Okay, good. So rewards and punishments can be an easy way to incorporate sex and other kinks. In addition to that though, I can order you to touch me, or to position yourself in particular ways with the intention of turning us both on. I can tell you to behave in ways that will make you feel humiliated or demeaned, which we both know you get off on, or incorporate degrading nicknames that feel thematically relevant, like calling you a bitch instead of a whore. Even just the act of being bossed around will probably contribute. And they don’t call it doggy style for nothing do they.”

You realised you were biting your lip, “I like the sound of that.” “I thought you might. Now there are a couple things to go over before we start, just so we’re both on the same page and know what to expect and what’s okay. Let me know if something doesn’t feel comfortable or doesn’t sound enjoyable okay?” You nodded expectantly, curious to hear what else Roger had in mind. “Now, while my intention is for this to involve sex, I do also understand how out of your comfort zone a lot of this is, so I’d want to ease you into it a bit and not focus on sex straight away. Um, I’m thinking that you’d be in just your underwear to start.” “Sounds pretty sexy,” you joked. Roger shook his head but he was clearly amused, “I never said it wouldn’t be sexy, just that it wouldn’t focus on sex right away. In addition though, and only if you’re comfortable with it, I have a collar with a lead that you can wear.”

You stomach flipped at the idea “Oh, um, a collar? Like a dog collar?” “Well, it looks sort of similar to one a actual dog might wear but it is definitely made for a human. I did mention collaring very, very briefly when we were looking at bondage. They can represent a few things but one of the more common reasons behind collaring a submissive is as a symbol of ownership. Not necessarily in a master/slave way, though of course it can be. But if the sub wore a collar to a kink event it would be a very clear signal that that person already has a dominant. And in private it can be a signal that they are still okay with submitting to their dom, that they’re willing to follow orders or participate in a scene.” “Could I maybe try it on first, see how it feels before I decide?” “Absolutely, when we’re done here I’ll get it for you. I’d have some specific expectations too around what you are and aren’t allowed to do, things that could contribute to punishments and rewards. Obviously obedience is a major part of this so my expectation is that if I order you to do something, you will do it. Of course, if something is way beyond what you feel comfortable with you can say your safe word,” “Pizzazz,” you said at his pause. “Very good, you can say pizzazz and we’ll stop. We can stop for good if you want or we can just use it as a pause in the scene to check in with each other and adjust things. Does that sound okay?” “Mmhmm, yeah, definitely.”

“Good. My other expectation is that you answer to puppy and pup. I may also use your name during the scene but I may decide to just call you pup, we’ll see how it feels in the moment. And in addition to that, I want you to respond accordingly to good girl or bad girl. Now, dogs can’t speak so I don’t expect to hear much talking from you unless I ask you a question and prompt you to answer with words, or of course if you want to safe word. You can make sounds though, whatever feels natural in the moment. If you feel like barking or whatever, go for it, but if that feels too weird don’t worry.” He gave you a reassuring smile, “Umm, anything else? Oh, yeah, uh, dogs also can’t walk on two legs,” he laughed a little, “So, I would also suggest that you crawl around on all fours. And if I ask you to fetch something you should carry it in your mouth where possible. Does that seem reasonable?” You readily agreed. Though the idea of crawling around hadn’t occurred to you initially, it made sense and you reasoned that being on the ground would probably contribute to feeling more puppy-ish, or at least more submissive.

“One final thing, and this is definitely not mandatory but I figured you might be into it. Do you want to wear a tail?” Your mind jumped straight to the box of dress up items your kindergarten class had had including dinosaur tails you could tie around your waist. Surely Roger had to mean something else, “Uhh, a tail?” Roger held up a finger, signalling you to sit tight, while he ducked out of the room. When he came back he held up a butt plug that, instead of tapering into the traditional shape on the outside end, was instead decorated with a fluffy tail. “These aren’t always used with pet play and there’s a few different varieties. Technically I think this one is meant to be a fox tail, but I only thought of it a few days ago so my options were limited. You can definitely get ones that aren’t so fluffy, ones shaped more like a cat or dog tail that are thinner, firmer. There are little fluff ball bunny tails, horse tails, you name it there's probably a plug out there. The question is, do you want to wear it?” Your decision came quickly, “I’ll wear it.” and then when Roger raised his eyebrows as if asking if you’d really thought it through you added, “I think it’s cute. And I think wearing a plug will help make me hornier which will help me get into the scene more.”

“Alright then,” Roger smiled, handing the plug over, “I also brought the collar over, if you wanted to have a look at it too before we start.” You nodded, though it made you much more nervous than the tail had, and gingerly took it from Roger. The leather was smooth and cool to the touch but the inside was lined with a softer material that you assumed was for the wearers comfort. It had a simple buckle clasp, much like a regular pet collar, and a heart shaped charm dangling from it where a name tag would be on a real dog collar. “Can you help me put it on?” Roger nodded moving behind you to buckle it around your throat. He was gentle, carefully fitting it and checking that it wasn’t too tight both verbally and by slipping two fingers under the collar, before he finally fastened it in place. You reached up to feel the soft leather, tilting your head in both directions as you adjusted to the sensation of it. Your fingers slipped down to the heart charm, the metal cool against your skin, and you felt your own heart quicken a little. You put it down to a few nerves now that you were on the verge of trying pet play, though you couldn’t totally forget what he’d said about ownership. Belonging to Roger didn’t sound too bad.

“What do you think of it?” “I don’t mind it. It’s not as uncomfortable as I guess I thought it might be. I guess I probably wouldn’t want to wear it all the time but for a specific scene I think I’m okay with it.” “Does that mean you’re interested in trying a pet play scene?” “Might as well,” you laughed. You knew he was checking for good reason, that he was just trying to be safe, but it was tempting to remind him you’d not once backed out of a practical lesson, “I don’t necessarily think it’ll be super my thing but I am curious enough to try it out.” “Alright, sounds good. Why don’t you go to the bathroom and get ready then, there's lube in the cabinet over the sink. Just give me a shout when you’re good to go.” You nodded, feeling surprisingly calm, and collected the tail from where you’d set it aside on the desk.

It took you a little while to get ready – a few minutes to compose yourself once you were alone, the idea of acting like a dog suddenly sounding much more ridiculous than Roger had made it sound, and then of course there was the plug to sort out. The collar was a slight distraction too. Not because it was uncomfortable or difficult to wear, though you couldn’t exactly forget it was there either. But the sight of it in the mirror would make you stop, your fingers rising to run over the leather. You were kind of amazed that it didn’t feel worse. You’d also dithered about for longer than you might have needed to, trying to decide if you should leave your bra on or discard it since you’d had to forgo your knickers to wear the tail. Roger would probably appreciate it, if not prefer it, if you were totally naked. But then again, the bra would keep your boobs in place which was probably preferable while you were crawling around on all fours. In the end, you kept the bra on though you’d first asked Roger his preference when he met you at the bathroom door. “It’s up to you,” Roger had said patiently, “although, I think I’m much more likely to cum prematurely and ruin my pants if you’re totally naked. Going to have a hard enough time as is.” He’d dropped his eyes deliberately to your cunt and you’d shifted where you stood, knowing he’d know if you squeezed your thighs together but tempted to do it all the same.

He let his gaze linger on your lower half, as if daring you, before he finally tore his eyes away, “Are you ready?” “Yeah,” you nodded, “I think so.” “Okay, then on the ground for me.” You lowered yourself to your knees right there in the hallway, and then to your hands. The carpet was a little rough against your knees and palms, the tail tickling the back of your thighs, but it was easy following Roger’s instructions and you waited for the next one, hoping he’d keep making it easy for you. “Good girl.” He leaned over you as he said it, a soft metallic sound drawing your attention though you kept as still as you could. “Time for walkies,” he announced as he straightened, “Go on pet.” You crawled down the corridor, your heart thumping as you realised just what a view you were giving Roger as he fell into step behind you. You weren’t sure where exactly Roger expected you to go but made an educated guess it would be the bedroom since that was where you usually ended up. It was open when you reached it which you figured meant you were right, however, before you could enter you felt the collar being tugged from behind and Roger tutted, making you stop. A leash was clutched in his hand when you turned to look. “Not in there pet. The lounge,” You nodded, readjusted your direction and set off again, practically able to feel Roger’s eyes on your arse and wondering if the tail was hiding much from view.

When you crawled through the doorway of the lounge, you were pleased to find Roger had spent his time getting the room ready. The coffee table had been dragged aside, pushed up against the wall so it wouldn’t be in the way, and the curtains had all been drawn so there was no chance of any nosey neighbours seeing anything, a couple of lamps softly lighting the room instead. But that wasn’t all he’d prepared. “You wanna play pup? Go get your ball,” Roger pointed towards the far side of the room where a fuzzy tennis ball sat on the floor, as he took a seat on the couch. You obediently crawled around the couch to the ball, lowering your head to pick it up with your teeth. But you paused a few inches from it.

“Uh, woof?” you said, feeling rather self-conscious, but wanting to get Roger’s attention. You succeeded, which you could tell by the way he was stifling a laugh, “Yes?” “This ball hasn’t been anywhere near a real dog, right?” Roger shook his head, “Brand new. I’m not that sadistic.” “Just checking,” you smiled, before picking the ball up between your teeth. You hadn’t experimented with gags in any of your lessons with Roger, at least not yet, but you had to imagine wearing a ball gag would feel similar to carrying this tennis ball like you were. It forced you to keep your mouth open, made it difficult to swallow which meant you could feel yourself getting drooly as you crawled back towards Roger. He held out his hand and you dropped the ball into it, finding it difficult to ignore how being on the ground put you closer to his cock. It was a small step from noticing that to realising Roger was beginning to stiffen, and then to realise he was probably at least partly aroused from seeing you drooling with a stuffed mouth and naturally you couldn’t help but wonder if he intended to use your mouth at all.

“Good girl,” Roger cooed, no idea what was going on through your head, as he reached out with his free hand to stroke your hair like he was patting a dog. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, the praise making you feel warm and pleased and eager to earn more, although your instant reaction to Roger’s positive reinforcement made you think maybe he’d had a point when he suggested puppy play. You were turning into Pavlov’s bloody dog, getting aroused whenever Roger praised you. “Alright, pup, you ready to learn some tricks?” You gave an affirmative hum, hoping he’d find it an acceptable response and not demand you bark instead. Thankfully he seemed fine with any non-verbal response because he smiled and moved toward the centre of the room, dropping down to his knees, “Here girl.” At a click of Roger’s fingers you crawled over to join him, earning another good girl but this time the praise was accompanied by his touch. His fingers dipping between your legs to rub your exposed cunt.

“I’m glad you chose the tail over your knickers,” he said softly, “Think you might be too,” he added as he drew his fingers away, the tips glistening with your slick. You whined in response and nodded. Roger gave you a wink and then he was back to business, “Alright pup, we’re going to learn a few tricks today. Let’s start with an easy one, sit.” You weren’t a hundred percent sure what Roger wanted but you thought the most likely option was to rest back against your heels. “So close, pet,” Roger cooed, his hands firm on your knees as he directed you to open them, “Gotta keep your legs spread so I can reward you properly. Let’s try again, all fours now.” You felt a little annoyed at yourself for not realising, and hurried to obey him, eager to show you could get it right.

“Sit,” You sat back again, your arse against your heels, the plug being pressed firmly into you, your knees open. Roger took full advantage of your position, his fingers slipping between your pussy lips as he praised you again, drawing a soft moan from you. The sound of pleasure seemed to be Roger’s signal to withdraw his fingers, “Time to learn another trick, pup. When I tell you to beg I want you to sit just like this but put your paws up,” He physically directed you as his spoke, positioning your hands at chest height, elbows bent, fingers curved over your palms. “And whine so I know you need something.” You felt a little silly but whining wasn’t too hard since you did want him to keep touching you. “Such a smart puppy girl,” Roger said as he rewarded you again, each stroke of his fingers making you more eager to have him inside you. “Right, we’re gonna learn another trick now. Lay down.” You bit back a disappointed groan as he removed his touch again, and did as you assumed he wanted, stretching out on your front.

“Roll over,” Perhaps the increasing horniness was hindering your thought process because for a moment you didn’t understand what Roger meant. Did he want you to roll across the floor to the other side of the room? How would that be arousing for him? The whole situation seemed suddenly ridiculous and you forgot you weren’t meant to speak, “Really?” “Pup,” Roger’s tone was warning, “Do what I say now. Roll over.” “Sorry Sir,” you hurried to say as you prepared to roll yourself across the room until he told you to stop, still not sure why he’d be turned on by such a thing but willing to find out. But a full 360-degree turn was not what Roger had in mind. He stopped you once you were on your back, his eyes raking over your bra clad chest and then down to your bare cunt. You felt yourself blushing, partly from how he was staring and partly because you felt silly for thinking he’d jack off to you literally rolling around. Turning onto your back made much more sense.

Roger shuffled a little closer on his knees, “When I say roll over, this is what I want to see. But next time I expect you to put your arms and legs up too.” Once again he directed you as he explained, guiding your limbs into the air, knees and elbows bent. “This way I can see everything I own.” He gently parted your knees a little further so he could easily stoke between them, toying with your clit. “I can properly reward you for following my orders. Or punish you for speaking out of turn.” You yelped as he suddenly spanked your pussy but he was quick to sooth the pain, or at least distract you from it as his fingers dipped into your entrance. You moaned, willing Roger to press deeper, to give you more, catching yourself right before you’d added his name and a potentially pathetic, “please”.  Begging would only work if you kept your words to yourself. But at that moment Roger seemed inclined to reward you, his other hand coming up to rub your clit again as he started working his fingers further into you.

His paused again as his phone began to ring from where he’d left it forgotten on the couch. He rolled his eyes, “ignore it, it can go to voicemail.” You nodded, trying to block out the ringtone and focus on how Roger was touching you, his fingers pressing deeper and faster as if he were trying to make up for the annoyance of the phone. "Finally” Roger muttered under his breath as the call rang out and the phone fell silent. His fingers were still plunging into you, stroking you just right, pushing you closer to release. Your moan broke off in a disappointed squeak as Roger unexpectedly withdrew his hand, his mobile sounding once more. “Jesus,” he sighed exasperatedly as he shuffled on his knees until the still trilling phone was within reach, hastening to deny the call. “Right, where were we?” his voice softened slightly as he turned back to you but a moment later he was swearing as his landline began to ring. You sighed and let your limbs drop to the floor, craning your neck to look at Roger upside down, “Maybe you should take that.” “I should’ve taken the bloody thing off the hook,” he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Alright pup, sit.” You dutifully scampered back to your knees, taking up the position he’d taught you. “Stay.” You smiled in acknowledgment, a little amused he was continuing with the role play.

Waiting was easier said than done.  Roger’s home phone was corded but the distance from where it hung to the doorway of the lounge was close enough that he could remain on the line whist he paced into your field of view and then back out. You caught snippets of the conversation – heard him apologise for missing the call and that he had company – and tried to work out who had called. “Mmhmm,” Roger hummed as he moved back into the doorway, “Well look now's not really a great time for m-. No, of course not.” Roger rolled his eyes and then threw you an apologetic glance.  You smiled back, his constant walking making you too wary to move from your position. He’d told you to sit and stay after all, he’d definitely notice if you rearranged yourself. But the longer the phone call went on, the more uncomfortable you became. Your knees grew stiff and you had to wiggle around to keep from getting pins and needles. Without Roger there egging you on, keeping you in the moment, stimulating you, the whole puppy thing started to feel even more silly than it had at the start. You couldn’t deny you were wet (it was hard to ignore) but you felt that was probably more to do with Roger than the scene itself. Although, perhaps you weren’t being totally fair in your judgement due to your current rising discomfort. You pondered the lesson so far, trying to work out how exactly you felt about pet play and how it was Roger could so affect you, trying to subtly shift yourself without being noticed. The tail plug was much closer to the forefront of your mind now, firm on one end and tickling you from the other and you were starting to feel a little chilly, close to naked as you were, but worst of all was the sudden realisation you needed to pee.

When Roger next crossed in front of the doorway you waved to get his attention and tried to tell him you were going to the bathroom with a lot of pointing. He didn’t seem to understand but he did seem amused, leaning in the doorway and holding up a palm to signal you to stay. You frowned and whined softly. Roger smirked as he said, “oh, I totally understand,” to whoever had called. He seemed to enjoy tormenting you because he stayed there, watching as you squirmed, and you were sure he was letting the conversation go on unnecessarily. At first you tried to beat him at his own game, attempting to ignore your growing need, but that just made you think about it more. You whined in desperation, louder than you’d meant to. As soon as you realised that Roger had heard the sound your attention snapped back to him. He chuckled into the reciever, “Nah, I’m dog sitting at the moment. No, no, I can see her from here, she's fine.”

It was mortifying to think someone else had heard you and you blushed as you pouted at Roger, but he seemed more amused than moved as he revealed he still had the tennis ball and rolled it towards you. At first you just let it sit where it had come to a stop near your knee but Roger clicked his finger and pointed at it. With a sigh you bent over, shuffling back a little so you could pick it up with your mouth again. Roger hummed into the receiver before mouthing a clear, “good girl,” at you. Unsure what exactly Roger wanted, you tentatively made to crawl towards him, but he stopped you with a raised palm. It seemed he wanted you to just sit there and wait, feeling yourself beginning to drool from the ball in your mouth, but unable to forget your bladder despite your arousal. Finally it became too much and you steeled yourself to beg for permission.

At first you stayed quiet, raising your hands to the position Roger had shown you, adjusting your posture so your back was straight and your chest was pushed towards him in the hopes it’d help persuade. Roger just looked at you expectantly and you realised he wanted you proper humiliated. Squeezing your eyes shut you whined into the tennis ball still between your lips. It took another louder whine before Roger became convinced. “Hold on one sec, I think she needs to go outside.” If you hadn’t been so embarrassed and distracted you’d have given Roger credit for doing such a remarkable job sounding natural when there was so much laughter in his eyes. He disappeared for a second as he placed the phone down, returning with a snort. “It’s not funny,” you pouted, holding the tennis ball out to Roger. “It is a bit,” but he took the ball from you, “What are you begging for?” “I need to go to the bathroom.” “Ask me again if you can go.” “Can I go?” Roger casually threw the ball to himself, “Dog’s can’t talk. Ask me properly.”

Silently cursing Roger, you let out another whine, trying to make it sound pathetic and desperate. “Doesn’t sound like you need it that badly. Maybe I should make you hold it until I’m through with my phone call.” You whimpered at the thought and raised yourself a little higher on your knees, hoping Roger would be open to some bargaining. He was standing close enough that you only had to shuffle forward a little to be able to rub your face along the front of his pants, whining and whimpering and pausing every now and again to look up at Roger and check he was understanding. If his arousal had diminished during the break, it was quickly returning. You could feel him as you mouthed around his fly, licking and panting against his hidden length. “Oh she is desperate.” He teased, crossing his arms over his chest (which you assumed was to stop himself from grabbing you). “She must be if she’s offering to suck me off.” You nodded, sucking on some of the fabric near his tip. Roger hummed, “I do love putting my cock in your mouth. Unfortunately,” he stepped back, “I have a call to finish up. I want you back here and sitting like a good girl by the time I’m done.” “Thank you thank you thank you,” You scrambled to your feet, pausing just long enough to kiss Roger’s cheek before you hurried past him to the bathroom. “Sorry that took so long,” you heard him say as he picked up the phone again, “Continue.”

When you returned to the lounge, bladder in a much more comfortable state, Roger had taken a seat on the couch and was looking at his mobile. “That was so mean!” you said, moving towards him and perching yourself on the arm of the chair, very aware you still wore the tail plug. Roger laughed, “But you were such a good girl. And I like hearing you whine.” “Should make you hold it, see how whiney you get.” You immediately realised what you’d said and felt your face warm. But Roger seemed flustered too. There was a definite flush on his cheeks when he said, “We both know I’d be into it,” that made the statement all the more sincere and not at all the deflection he was aiming for.

“So would you also be a puppy? Or a different animal?” You asked, your curiosity beating out your embarrassment. “Roger thought for the moment, “I think I prefer being a cat. I like to be pampered.” You giggled and, without thinking, reached out to scratch the top of his head like you’d scratch behind a cat’s ear. Roger leaned into your touch. “And, um,” you didn’t know what to do next and tried to cover the awkwardness with a question, “what would you differently as a kitten compared to a puppy?” “Well,” Roger shifted his hips, “a lot of the basics are similar – with both of them you can have the pet drink water from a bowl or play with toys. With a kitten I’d expect grooming to be part of it, like brushing my hair. If I wanted to still be more dominant whilst being kitteny, I might stalk you around the house and pounce on you. But usually if I’m acting as the pet I prefer to be on the subbier side, just being petted and pampered... maybe encouraged to lick my owner.” You felt even more embarrassed at the hints about oral but the thought did cross your mind that perhaps you would enjoy such an act more if it was occurring at your command. Doing it because you felt it was expected or simply to please a lover felt embarrassing and awkward but if you felt in control of it maybe it would be easier to enjoy the sensations. Roger had proven you could enjoy it if certain conditions were met, perhaps being blind folded and dommed wasn’t the only way.

*****

It was only then you realised your hand was still in Roger’s hair, absentmindedly playing with it, and your thoughts switched from how it might feel to order him to go down on you to what other parts of him you could be petting and stroking. Roger was watching you as closely as he could, enjoying the sensation of your fingers in his hair, but whatever was going through his own mind he kept to himself. However his rapidly stiffening cock gave him away a little. You withdrew your hand suddenly which seemed to be a signal for Roger to get the lesson back on track. “And what about my puppy? Are you still okay with it?” You nodded, “Yeah, lets keep going.”

“Alright, well I really should punish you for getting back here late. You were meant to be done before my phone call finished.” “That’s unfair,” “No, that’s the rules. But maybe you can convince me you’re still a good girl. On the floor, now.” You quickly dropped to your hands and knees, as eager to prove yourself as you were to distract yourself from the weird moment you’d just shared. “Alright, lets see how much you remember. Sit.” You quickly moved into position. “Beg.” You put your hands up and made a small whimpery whine. “Roll over. Good girl.” Each time you followed an order Roger had rewarded you with some brief touch- squeezing your breasts through your bra, letting his fingertips trail seductively along your body, teasing your clit, but it never lasted long enough. “Clever pup,” Roger’s voice was low and gravelly, “back to all fours.”

You were a little surprised, even a little put out that, that he’d not climbed over you, not taken his cock out of his pants, not made any move to fuck you. Thankfully he decided it was a good time to move things along, standing up so you got a good view of just how aroused he was, and moving to kneel behind you. It meant he could better feel you up, able to reach the parts he wanted to touch most with greater ease, his fingers firmer than they had been before. You became a little breathless, the combination of the series of tricks he’d had you perform with how his fingers felt running over and between your pussy lips. Your breathing came harder and before you knew it, you were panting in anticipation, your tongue sticking out over your bottom lip. “Fucking hell,” Roger said softly, “Okay pup, show me just how horny you are,” he pushed lightly between your shoulders, guiding you to lower your chest and raise your hips, presenting your arse and cunt to him. He still wasn’t in a particular rush though, opting to tease you a little more first. Roger started by stroking the tail you wore and making the plug shift within you before reaching for your cunt again. “Someone enjoyed being my pet, didn’t they pup?” You whined and nodded against the floor, trying to push back against Roger’s fingers.

He chuckled at how eager you were and allowed two fingers to slip inside you, working them in and out until he could comfortably fit a third. You moaned as he stretched you, trying to help by rocking back against his fingers as much as he would allow. It was distracting enough that you nearly missed the sound of Roger’s zip coming down as he hurried to get himself ready with his free hand. “Been such a good girl,” he grunted as he one handedly worked his pants down a little further, “Gonna get a very big reward.” You whimpered as his fingers left you, but you knew they’d soon be replaced by something even better though waiting for it was almost torture, especially when Roger used the slick you’d left on his hand to lube his cock. Thankfully he was more interested in fucking you than toying with you any longer and he only stroked himself a couple of times before he began to sink into you. Your breath hitched as his head pressed into you but it was quickly followed by a moan, echoed by Roger as he sank into your warmth.

He went slow to start, carefully pulling partway out and easing himself back in, testing to make sure you were wet enough that he could move comfortably. He grunted as he sank deeper, “Take me so well, sweetheart. Must really love feeling owned with how fucking wet you are.” You shivered as Roger leaned forward, his gravelly voice getting closer as his cock seemed to push even deeper, the sensations all capped off with a sudden sharp pinch as he lowered his head and bit a spot on your side. It made you yelp, more from surprise than anything else, but you felt yourself clench around his length too. When he straitened up again he was chuckling, “Oh pup, you make it so easy for me.” His hands slipped back to your waist, one gently caressing your arse as he moved the tail aside, and gave a quick tug, pulling you into him.

Your breath hitched as he suddenly completely filled you, but he barely gave you time to remember how to breathe before he pressed in again. The temperate test thrusts Roger had given became quick and hard as if his eagerness to have you had won out over his self-restraint from moments before. “Oh fu-u-u-ck,” you moaned, voice jolting as his cock filled you again and again, a rapid pace you had no hope of matching. Your arse suddenly stung as Roger lay a loud slap that made you squeal. “No talking, remember. Still my pup.” You whimpered as he gave you another slap to drive the point home. “Just my horny bitch,” he grunted, “Who practically goes into heat whenever she sees me.” A third slap was swiftly followed by a rough thrust, making you whine and then moan. For a moment Roger shifted all his efforts into his hips, making you squeal with each hard stroke of his cock,  but then he eased off and another string of slaps landed against you. He made it clear that the spanks were for being late as well as speaking out of turn, which only seemed fair when they felt so good. And then, once he was satisfied, he focused once again on fucking you senseless.

At first you were worried you’d slip up again, accidentally say a word instead of keeping your vocalisations to simple noises of pleasure, and in doing so bring forth another run of spanks that would make you clench but delay the orgasm you wanted. But it quickly ceased to be a factor. Between Roger’s cock filling you just right and him giving a new order to rub your clit, it was nearly impossible to even think of a real word let along get your mouth to form them. Even when he slowed his thrusts down again you were in little danger of saying anything comprehensible. That was when he decided to put the tail plug to a more specific use than just decoration, spitting on your arsehole so he could fuck you with it. Really all you could do was take what he was giving, whining and moaning, and eventually cum. He did make you work for it though, panting as he told you to wait for permission. You’d never been made to wait for it before, at least not in this way, and you let your fingers slow their motions around your clit, afraid of hitting your release too fast. But the barrage of stimulation from the plug and Roger’s cock were enough to get you close. You squeezed your eyes shut and whimpered loudly, hoping Roger would understand what it meant.

“Cum, pet” You couldn’t do it immediately but you hastily worked your fingers over your clit again, so close but not quite tipping over the edge. You jolted with another spank, “I told you to cum.” Roger’s voice was low, a little breathless but entirely in control. You whined, as you tried to do what he wanted, though your fingers felt stiff and clumsy. There was another spank and then Roger pressed the plug into you, holding it down as he rammed his cock deep. Perhaps it was the shock of both combined with your frantic rubbing, or maybe he just managed to hit the right spot at the right time, but you couldn’t help but tighten suddenly, moaning and shaking as you fell into your orgasm. “There you go,” he grunted, giving the plug a little jiggle to keep you stimulated as you came. You would have fallen limp if you’d been in another position, but Roger was still filling you and his grip was once again tight on your hips which kept your knees from giving out. Instead you just twitched from the aftershock, and whined when you felt him slowly pull back and sink in again. “Stay there, pup, I need to cum too.” The breath you’d only just begun to catch caught in your throat as Roger resumed fucking you, going neither as hard as he had or as slow as you might have liked. He didn’t bother with the plug though, focusing only on how your wet cunt felt around his cock. Thankfully it wasn’t long before he was holding himself deep, the grunts he’d made on each thrust giving way to moans as he came within you.

*****

“Good girl,” Roger said softly, tapping your thigh gently as he pulled out. He shuffled out from behind you, moving to your side as he tucked himself away, and then sat heavily down on the floor. You allowed yourself to sag too and, knees a little sore, lowered yourself onto your back. “Do you want a hand up?” “In a minute,” you sighed, the thought of getting up too much to contemplate immediately, “Have you got anything I can cover myself with?” “You mean you don’t want to lie naked on my living room floor?” Roger quipped, simultaneously reaching for a throw that was decorating the couch and then grabbing a cushion as well. You just laughed, tucking the cushion under your head, “Seems a bit unfair that you get to wear pants is all.” “Thats the perks of being the dom.” He tapped you teasingly with his foot, “How’d you find it all?” “It was interesting,” you thought for a moment before continuing, “I think it’s another kink that like wouldn’t be the first thing I would think of but isn’t a hard no either. Like, I think it’s probably the stupidest I’ve felt during one of our lessons...well maybe the queening beats it, but still, I felt like a fucking tit at first.” Roger laughed, “You got into it though.” “Yeah I did. And I definitely understand it better now, but it wasn’t my favourite.”

He hummed thoughtfully looking over at you with a soft expression you couldn’t quite pinpoint, “That’s similar to how I feel about pet play too. I can be into it with the right person and stuff, but it’s not a go to of mine.” You lay in a comfortable silence for a moment, considering things. Logically you knew Roger had favourite kinks and scenes he preferred over others, but it wasn’t something you’d properly thought of before. Maybe because he was so confident and capable at everything he’d taught you so far, it felt like all of them were his favourites. After a moment Roger interrupted your thoughts, “Hey, you okay? Not too overwhelmed?” “No, not at all, just thinking.” You pushed yourself onto your elbows to better see Roger, “Are you good?”

“I am,” Roger smiled, scooting a little closer. “Did you have any other questions regarding pet play? Anything you’re still curious about? “Uhhh, yeah I guess so, um,” you instantly felt awkward as you tried to phrase your question, “When you wanted me to, uh, finish when you told me to....what was that about?” Roger chuckled, “I s’pose I should have been ready for that question since we’ve not actually touched on it in a lesson. I guess it’s mostly closely related to orgasm delay or orgasm denial. Have you heard of them before?” “Maybe? I think I’ve seen denial mentioned online.” “Well, basically it’s when you delay or stop yourself or your partner from having an orgasm. There’s a bunch of different reasons to play with it and ways to do it. With our scene, because we’d spent so long working on you obeying commands and performing certain actions when told to, I thought it would make sense, and be kind of hot, if you came on command too. I’d be happy to do a full lesson on it next time if you want.”

“That does sound interesting but if I remember your curriculum plan thing correctly, shouldn’t we be getting to CNC next?” “Oh so now you’re paying attention to my curriculum huh?” Roger sat up straighter and, sensing the shift to a more serious topic, you followed, letting the blanket drop since you were wearing your bra. “That was my plan yes. And of course we can stick to that original plan if you feel ready to move on. But I’m also happy to spend more time on other kinks first, even just other role plays. We could play doctor.” You laughed, “Tempting offer, I think you’d make a pretty hot doctor. But I do think I’d like to learn at least the theory of CNC. It feels like an important topic and I think I’d prefer to do it sooner rather than later.” Roger sighed softly, “You’re right, we should cover it so we don’t run out of time. I’m just very conscious that this is a heavier topic than anything else we’ve covered. Some parts of it might get tough. And I really want to make sure to approach it with the right amount of gravity, without making it seem super scary.” You placed a hand on his knee, “I know that, and I appreciate it a lot.” Roger gave you a soft smile before another slight sigh, “I that case, yes, next lesson will be looking at consensual non-consent. I have been thinking about this lesson a lot actually and I had an idea of something we could a bit different, especially if you decide to go ahead with a practical lesson after we cover the theory.” “Different how?” Your question came out of curiosity not concern since you trusted that Roger’s ideas would be about your safety, but you couldn’t think of any ways to change what you were doing. “Well, because we’d potentially be role playing a non-consensual sexual encounter, I thought it might be a good idea to do it somewhere else.” “Like where? A hotel or something?” “No, no, nothing so public. Um, I have a little cottage a couple of hours out of the city. It was a family holiday house, but it doesn’t get used for that as much now. I thought we could go there for the weekend.”

Your breath caught at the idea of going away with Roger but you did your best to keep your voice steady, not too excited, as you asked, “How come?” "Well firstly, the neighbours are a little further away there so there’s much less risk of anyone misinterpreting whatever scene we would potentially be playing out and calling the cops on us. Plus, no one there would recognise you’re my student if they did see us together. Not to make it sound like some sort of bachelor pad or sex dungeon, but the last few times I’ve been there it has been for kink hookups so, even if we were spotted together, they’d probably just assume I’m bringing another girl over. Plus, because we are looking at CNC, a more unfamiliar location might help make the scene better. Assuming that we did that. Even if we went away, I wouldn’t expect you to participate in an actual CNC scene if you didn’t feel fully comfortable doing so.” You nodded but didn’t say anything, your stomach flipping uncomfortably with a mix of nerves about how serious Roger was being and excitement at the idea of going on a weekend trip with him. “But, more importantly, I want you to still feel safe in this house. I know CNC is technicaly what we’ve been building to but, since you’re so familiar with the curriculum, I’m sure you remember that it isn’t the last topic I suggested. I know I’m repeating myself but I’m happy to explore any kinks we haven’t covered or revisit kinks we have in the last weeks before the wedding, and I want you to feel okay doing that. CNC can be tough, it can be scary. It can play with sensations and emotions related to rape. And the last thing I want is for you to feel like I have raped you in what was previously a safe space. By moving the lesson to a different location, we could hopefully contain everything in a place that you won’t have to return to.” You nodded soberly, “That sounds good.” “Okay, well then, this weekend?” “Yeah, this weekend.”

[rogertaylorshbb]

"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