Roger Taylor X Reader - Blog Posts

In His Favourite Sundress

Roger takes forever getting ready to head out to dinner with you, so you decide to take a nap wearing his favourite dress. When he finally gets out of the shower, he just can’t help himself.

Warnings: Roger Taylor x f!Reader; (consensual) somnophilia; groping and fingering; a little bit of begging towards the end. STRICTLY 18+ - minors aren’t welcome on this blog, and will be blocked. Notes: An oldie from the BoRhapRogerina days - redrafted and made a little better!

Roger hummed away as he emerged from the bathroom. A cloud of searing heat seeped into the bedroom, fighting the fresh evening air that billowed in from the balcony. He shivered, still clad in just a towel.

He took so long to get ready for dinner that you decided on a siesta while you waited. You were so exhausted that you didn’t mind if your dress got creased. Your eyes sagged shut as soon as your head hit the pillow. 

You wore Roger’s favourite dress. Not daring by any stretch of the imagination, but he always found a way to make the most average garments absolutely filthy. The relaxed scarlet sundress sat a couple of inches above your knee and if Roger stood at the right angle, he could effortlessly slip a hand underneath it, completely undetected. That was why it was his favourite dress. It was also why he insisted you make things even easier for him by forgoing underwear when you wore it in his company.

He didn’t need to tell you anymore; you did this out of habit.

He smirked when he noticed you sleeping facedown. You had a habit of shifting around while you slept and somehow your attire had bunched up around your waist and hips. Realising this, Roger tossed aside the jeans in his hands and crawled into bed next to you. You didn’t stir.

You both had an agreement that this was okay, but Roger couldn’t help feeling apprehensive as he stretched out his hand to stroke the back of your thigh; gently caressing your skin from the underside of your knee, all the way to your bottom, fingers pressing into your flesh. He bit his lip, briefly contemplating the idea of delving lower. It felt perverse. You had no idea what he was doing. But you had an agreement.

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The Art She Loved Masterlist

Series Rating: Mature

Chapter One

Chapter Two 

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten 

Chapter Eleven

Alright?

Author’s Note: My box has been flooded with requests and I couldn’t be happier! I’m not sure how long it will take me to get all of them done, so please be patient and I will probably get a master list posted in the next few days. I’m home sick today, so I will probably have a few posted today. I really hope that you guys enjoy this one-shot as I love it with all my heart, but I’ll probably say that about every one-shot that I write. Requests are open at the moment, so don’t be shy.

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Prompt List

Roger Taylor x Reader

Requested by @acidrainslutt

4. “Are you safe?” “I-I don’t know.”

26. “Shit, you’re freezing, let’s get you warmed up.”

Word Count: 1,940

Warning: Swearing, fluff

The London streets were dark as Y/n stumbled down them, her heels wobbling on the cobblestones as she did so. Old buildings loomed around her, lights sweeping through the windows, lighting up the street. Wrapping her arms around herself, trying to shield her bare arms from the cold air, she turned a corner before coming to a stop. The buildings that lined the street didn’t spark any memories. When it came to her map of the town, they weren’t on it. She had no clue where she was. She sighed, turning in circles, trying to find something to anchor her to her location. None of the street names that she could see looked familiar. But then again, in her drunken state even things that were familiar to her seemed so foreign.

At that moment she was silently cursing herself for going drinking. She hadn’t gone alone, going to a new pub with a few of her friends. But as they started to knock back shots that seemed to get stronger each time, the group split up. Y/n remember that two of her friends had stumbled out of the bar together and another was lead to a back room by someone. That left her all alone in a smoke-filled room full of strangers. The rational part of her brain that hadn’t been fogged over by liquor, told her that it was best if she left, so she did. But her brain hadn’t told her that leaving by herself in a city full of strangers wasn’t a good idea. Not until she had gotten herself lost.

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Our Little Jailbird - Roger Taylor x Reader

Not Requested

I’ve had this idea for a while, wasn’t exactly how i originally pictured it, but it’s been so long since i’ve posted anything, i wanted to get something out for you guys. Hope you enjoy! Please leave a like/comment/reblog and also leave some requests, i could always use new ideas

Word Count : 1291

Pairing : Roger x Reader

-

The shrill ringing of the telephone danced around the studio walls, earning annoyed groans from the four men in the room, eager to finish their new album and put it behind them. The ringing continued until Miami rolled his eyes at his band, taking the phone off of the hook and answering it. His eyes widened instantly and he gave a small chuckle, bringing the phone down before looking at the band members in front of him, the blond in particular.

“Roger, for you.”

Roger flipped his drumsticks to the side, standing to get to the phone. “Who is it?”

Miami only chuckled as he passed the receiver.

Roger leaned against the wall as he put the phone to his ear. “This is Roger Taylor.”

A man’s voice answered. “Hello, Roger, do you know a Miss (YN) (YLN)?”

“I do.” He gave a small laugh. “She’s my fiancé. Is she alright?”

The man sighed. “Yeah, she’s fine but she does need you to pick her up if you would. She’s not exactly capable of getting home herself.”

“Where is she? What happened?” Roger stood a little straighter, the tone of his voice alerting his bandmates who now looked on with curiosity. “You said she was fine.”

“She is fine, just got a little drunk and got herself arrested and well, you were the only name she’d give up when we asked if anyone would be able to bail her out. You’ll be able to bail her out then?”

Roger closed his eyes before nodding, gripping the phone a little tighter as he smirked, picturing you in a jail cell. “I’ll be there in ten.” He then hung up the phone, putting his hands on his hips as he glanced to the other men in the room. “I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” Brian asked, plucking at random strings on his guitar. “We’ve got an album to finish.”

Roger nodded as he fiddled with his pockets, hunting down his keys, heading for the door. “I know we do, but I’ve currently got a fiancé in jail, so I have a special priority at the moment, like I said. I’ll be back.” With that he walked out of the studio and headed towards the jail, he couldn’t help but laugh as he drove towards you.

-

Your head rested against the cool steel bars, it felt nice against your heated skin, your flushed cheeks and your pounding headache. Soft groans left your mouth with every small movement you made. Thoughts of the night before came crashing against your skull, making your hangover a thousand times worse than what it already was.

The night was a blur, well parts of it were. The other parts well, you didn’t remember those parts. Now you knew how Roger felt when he had nights like the one you’d just had. You had to give the man credit, he could carry on as if the night had never happened still, you weren’t to that point yet and never would you again if you could help it.

Your reflecting came to an end as you heard footsteps approaching and a melodic laugh filled your ears.

“My darling, look at you.” Roger’s voice filled the room along with his laughter. Oh he was not going to let you forget this. “One night out with friends and this is what happens. I told you I’d pick you up love, I was only a call away.”

Slowly you let your eyes crack open, the bright lights in the room sent your head into a frenzy and you snapped them shut again. “Out.” Your voice was beyond hoarse, but you didn’t care, you were ready to go. “I want out! Roger! Get me,” a loud and slightly painful hiccup left your body, “Get me out, Rog, then tease later. Please!”

Another chuckle and his hand was on yours. “I do love to hear you beg darling, music to my ears.”

“Rog…” you began but were cut off by the door you were leaning so carefully against, moved out of the way and you stumbled into Roger’s awaiting arms. His chest felt like home, you’d definitely rather be pressed against his chest instead of the bars any day. He carefully wrapped his arms around you, helping you stand on your own feet. “Thanks.” You grumbled.

“Thank you, officer.” He laughed out as he lead you out of the station. You were only able to open your eyes a handful of times as he lead you to the car. He helped you get inside and helped buckle you in before getting in on the other side. He didn’t start the car though, he only turned in his seat to look at you. “What happened last night, love?” In all honesty, Roger did try to be sincere with his question but you were just a sight that he couldn’t help but let out a few laughs at. “You look a right mess.”

“I am a mess.” You covered your face with your hands. “Too many drinks.”

“I can tell. How did you end up in a jail cell?”

A shrug of your shoulders was the only answer you wanted to give him. But Roger was Roger, he wasn’t done until he got a solid answer out of you.

“Love?”

It was no use, he’d find out somehow you were sure of it. “I may or may not have had a few margaritas. I may or may not have been dancing like an idiot on the dancefloor.” Roger’s eyes lit up with amusement with each word you spoke. “And finally, I may or may not have thrown my drink at the bartender when he told me I’d had enough to drink. Didn’t know that was worthy of a call to the police, but apparently it was.” You turned your head to spare Roger a glance and turned back just as quickly.

The grin on Roger’s face was the biggest grin you’d ever seen on his face. It may have held a little pride as well, he’d never admit it to you, but seeing you get put in jail for being drunk, it may have been the funniest thing he’d ever witnessed in his life.

“This isn’t funny Roger!”

“Love,” he breathed, turning back to start up the car, “this is hilarious. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Promise?”

He held out his pinky and latched it with yours. “Promise.”

-

Technically, only Roger made that promise. Miami on the other hand, did not make that promise. When Roger left the studio, he went into a laughing tirade about your drunken journey. All of the guys were laughing, holding their stomachs and everything. Sweet little you, in jail, it was something they thought they’d never hear in their lives. It brought amusement to a very stressful period in their life.

-

Roger pulled up to the studio and you groaned. “I just want to go home, Roger, I spent the night in jail. I need a shower and a proper bed, please just take me home.”

“I’ll only be a minute love.” He went to get out of the car but was stopped by your hand. “What’s the matter?”

“You’re seriously not about to leave me alone, are you?”

“Course not.” He removed your hand before going to your side of the car and opening the door, holding his hand back out to you.

“Seriously?”

He smirked. “Only for a minute love, they’ll understand.”

Groaning, you took his hand and followed him in, quickly wishing you’d had just stayed in the car.

Freddie clapped his hands as soon as you walked inside, a grin that could’ve outmatched Roger’s adorned his face. “Welcome home our little Jailbird.”

Let’s Do It (Let’s Fall in Love)

Masterlist

Pairing: Roger Taylor x OC 

Theme: Fluff 

Word Count: 3100+

Written for the @bowieandqueen11 fluff writing challenge! This was such a great idea and I had so much fun writing this. I’ve got a LOT of ideas so if people enjoy this I might actually make it a multipart fic. 

My prompt was: “It’s you. You’re the one I love.” Enjoy! 

Brian had been the one to introduce them. He and Genevieve had met during their first year at University, and although Roger had heard her name several times, it took over a year to meet the illusive redhead. That changed late one night in November, when Brian had finally decided to bring her to the flat while Roger was home. She’d been a little shy, returning his wide welcoming grin with one a little more muted and uncertain, but after the first bottle of wine had been finished she’d loosened up a little. They’d ended up sharing the cramped loveseat together while Brian had curled up in the armchair opposite, and as their shoulders bumped and he heard her laughter, Roger swore he felt giddy, but he blamed it on the alcohol.

They drank late into the night, until she started to slump back against the couch cushions, looking between him and Brian through heavy lidded eyes, and they decided it was time to sort out sleeping arrangements. The three had drunkenly argued over who would be sleeping where - Brian obviously couldn’t sleep on the loveseat, and even she would have been uncomfortable in it. Finally, after realising none of them would be able to get a half decent night’s sleep in the living room, she’d proposed sharing a bed with one of them. Brian had locked eyes with Roger over her head - he knew what his flatmate was like - and had suggested Genevieve take his room before stumbling off down towards his room ahead of her, bouncing off the walls of the corridor like a ping pong ball. She and Roger had watched him go with matched looks of bemusement, before she bid him goodnight and followed the lanky guitarist. Roger had paused in his doorway as she approached Brian’s room, stopping just shy of the threshold. He’d seen her nose wrinkle in distaste.

“What is it?” He asked, keeping his voice soft. There was a pause, and then a giggle as she turned to face him.

“Brian snores.” She whispered, and sure enough, as Roger got closer he realised he could hear the telltale snores of a very drunk Brian, who’d apparently passed out as soon as he’d stumbled into his room.

Inviting her to sleep in his room had just been the gentlemanly thing to do, at the time. When he jerked his thumb in the direction of his silent bedroom it had been completely innocuous, but when he woke up just before six, his arms wrapped around her and her back pressed up against his chest, it felt a whole lot less innocent. During the night they’d ended up spooning, so when he woke his nose was pressed into soft auburn curls, arms wrapped loosely around her waist as he anchored her to him. As she shifted in her sleep, burying her face into the pillow, Roger felt her hips swivel a little, her ass grinding back into him, and somewhere in his still-drunk mind the thought emerged to ask if she fancied a quick shag.

Bad idea, Taylor. He scolded himself. Friends don’t fuck their roommate’s friends.

Instead, he closed his eyes and settled back into the mattress, her hair tickling his nose as he pulled her a little closer, more out of habit than anything. Not that he would have told anyone, but waking up with someone curled up in his arms was one of his favourite things in the world.

They didn’t speak about that night for a long time. Brian had no idea Genevieve had spent the night in Roger’s room instead of his - he was the last to wake up and stumble into the kitchen, where she had already prepared a pot of coffee, which she and Roger were sharing as they nursed their hangovers. When he asked her if she slept well, his back to them as he rooted around in the fridge, he missed the sly smile she and Roger shared over their coffee cups.

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Tangerine (Roger Taylor x Reader)

Request: can u do something rlly rlly fluffy with rogah?? like they’ve been friends for years and they both like each other (like, like like each other lol) but they’re both big dumb and it takes the other band members to finally get them together?? they’re like playing truth or dare or something and freddie dares rogah to kiss reader or something?????????? idkkk but thank uu

Pairing: Smile era!Roger Taylor x Reader

Word Count: 2,200+

Warnings: None, she’s cute.

N.B: This is me trying to get back to fulfilling requests, it’s been sat in my inbox for like 3 weeks I’m sorry sksksk. Also the title comes from Tangerine by Led Zeppelin, which was always introduced as being about love in it’s most innocent form. 

No beta, we die like men.

“Really, Fred?”

“Why not?” He cocked an eyebrow teasingly, opening a bottle of wine. “Scared of what might happen?”

You folded your arms over your chest, inhaling sharply at the challenge. “Why on earth would I be scared?”

“Oh I don’t know…” He said airily, pouring two glasses - one notably more full than the other. “These games often have a way of getting a little… Personal, wouldn’t you say?”

“The hell do you mean ‘personal’?” You tapped the side of your wine glass insistently. “Pour me a real glass, don’t be a wanker.”

Freddie obliged, making the drinks a little more equal before setting the bottle to one side. You were stood in his cramped kitchen in the shoebox flat he shared with Roger, topping up on alcohol. It was late on a Saturday night after a Smile gig, and the three of you, along with Brian and Tim, had piled into the tiny living room to carry on drinking after the show. The boys had grabbed some of the cheapest beer they’d been able to find from the off-license along the way, but you and Freddie had refused their offer of a few cans, opting to pour yourselves some wine when you returned.

You could hear Brian finger-picking some familiar tune that you couldn’t quite place on Roger’s old acoustic guitar, and as he played, the quiet chatter stopped. The other two were listening, probably trying to pick out which song he was playing. You turned back to Freddie, who sipped his wine pointedly, one eyebrow still raised.

“Besides, isn’t it a little juvenile? Truth or dare?” You shook your head incredulously. “What are you, twenty-four?”

“Twenty-three.” He corrected sharply. “And it isn’t the only thing around here that’s juvenile.”

“That,” You pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Was a low blow.”

You knew exactly what he was talking about. Unfortunately, a few months earlier, during another night like this where the two of you had gone to watch Smile perform, you’d made the mistake of revealing your feelings for his flatmate. Thankfully, it was while the two of you were drinking before the gig, so no-one else had been around to hear your confession.

“Are you two coming or what?” Tim called from the living room, interrupting the conversation before it could go any further. Freddie grabbed you by the hand, dragging you into the living room where you joined the rest of the boys, sitting cross-legged on their worn out carpet between him and Tim.

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