#cant express enough how all this just poured out of my brain at like 11 pm last night

[delightfuldevin]

I've been meaning to ask and keep forgetting so forgive the 1am ask but WHAT is the story with your MLP Dragon Self Insert what's his deal who's he hang out with does he have lighting powers does he need a cool older brother who is half his height (Me)? I have many questions.

He primarily hangs out with Rarity and Pinkie Pie while in Ponyville!! And he goes to Canterlot to visit Luna every so often as well!! I haven’t thought about his relationship with Spike, but I suppose it makes sense that Spike would love having an older dragon around and probably asked him a loooot of questions about the Dragon Lands when he first showed up.

He does indeed have lightning powers!! This is another world I learned to access before my accident, so his lightning powers were obtained later down the line. He only had fire breath initially.

And he would absolutely ADORE having a cool older but shorter brother <3

So uh,, I did not have a backstory established for my MLP S/I before now and yet the second I received this ask, I popped off and this all just flowed out of my brain so here we are sjchjsdh

Jade grew up in the Dragon Lands (I arrived in this world at around age 11), but he never really fit in with the dragons’ way of life. He always sought companionship but that’s not really a thing in dragon society and he didn’t quite understand why. For all other dragons, being alone and distant seemed as natural as breathing, but for Jade it felt so wrong it made him feel sick. If he was the odd one out, perhaps he was the problem then?

One night, he met someone in his dreams. He didn’t know what she was, but she was so beautiful and kind, unlike any of the dragons he knew. When he woke up the next morning, he felt so refreshed as if he had slept like royalty. That mysterious whatever-she-was appeared in more of his dreams after that and each time, he would wake up like it was the best sleep of his life.

It wasn’t until several years later that he learned what ponies were. Their society was so much different than that of dragons, but somehow he felt like they were what he was missing. Jade had felt out of place amongst dragons his whole life; maybe he just didn’t belong there after all. So, he set out for Equestria, hoping to find what he was looking for all his life.

Unsurprisingly, the ponies he met initially did not receive him well. He was starting to think it might’ve been a bad idea to come there, but as he was about to give up and return to the Dragon Lands, he stumbled into Ponyville. He arrived during the time when Discord took over (the first episode I remember watching of the show was the season 2 premiere with Discord ^^) and once everything was turned back to normal, Twilight and her friends mistakenly thought he was part of Discord’s chaos magic that somehow remained. After all, how else would a dragon suddenly be in Ponyville?

After explaining himself and why he came, he was surprised to find that everyone simply accepted him at face value and welcomed him there. Sure, it took some getting used to for everyone, but in no time at all he was already feeling right at home! He became somewhat of a handyman, working odd jobs around the town. Being a dragon and all, he’s much stronger than even the strongest earth ponies, so everyone would ask him for help with any kind of manual labor. He was just happy to be accepted by others; it was all he’d ever wanted.

During the episode Luna Eclipsed, he saw Luna when she came to Ponyville and realized that it was her who he’d met in his dreams all those years ago. When she saw him, she also remembered him, surprised to see him there. Though she primarily helped the ponies of Equestria with her magic, she sensed Jade’s bad dreams back then and wanted to help him too, even if she didn’t have the expertise to help him with the particular issues he was facing as a dragon. The two of them spent the rest of the night together, with Luna even staying until dawn as they lost track of time. As she was about to leave for Canterlot, she invited him to come visit her sometime and he eagerly promised he would.

From there, he’s just a background character for the rest of the series. He plays no role in any big events; he basically functions as one of the crowd, except he’s a rather tall dragon in a crowd of ponies so he stands out quite a bit fjvhjdfvnkd. And he does start regularly visiting Luna in Canterlot. He doesn’t live directly in Ponyville, rather he shacks up in a cave just outside of town cause houses are not comfortable to sleep in jfbvkfdnk.

When the friendship school is established, he meets Smolder again (they met before very briefly in the Dragon Lands before he left). When Ember realizes Jade lives here already, she asks him to look after Smolder at the school to make sure she’s following the rules and setting a good example of the dragons. Jade agrees and becomes something of a “guardian” for Smolder, attending any kind of conferences at the school. The others of the Young Six become rather attached to him as well. It was during a parent-teacher night that Gallus’s guardian didn’t show up and Gallus asked Jade to take their place, which he accepted. From then on, Jade became the guardian for both Smolder and Gallus while they attended the school.

Also silly meme I just thought up jfbvjddjncdjs

[slashingdisneypasta]

Jack Bass x Younger!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Bass's.

Notes:

I have no idea when this is supposed to be set. Just go with it.

I have two things to say about Jack in this gif, though. 1. Does he not know how to carry a tray. And 2. I love this statement, here. Its like 'Bart's Dead, Chuck. I can barely contain my joy, Chuck. Its taking all my willpower, Chuck, to keep a monotonous expression. Also Chuck I am carrying a tray, do you see this?'

Plot: Bart Bass decides to be his creepy fucking self (Not that Jack is exponentially better in any way but whatever) towards you, Chuck's best friend- but thankfully, Jack accidentally walks in on the scene and gives you a get out of jail free card.

Good old 'lesser of two evils' shit. I love stuff like that.

Warnings: BART BASS being predatory, and a bit of age difference (You and Jack. I'm going by actors ages though so there's only a, like, 11 year age gap between him and Chuck which is not that bad if you ask me). Sexual references.

~~~

Chuck looks from his phone, that's flashing Blairs name, to you and your big, wide eyes and lips mouthing 'Don't you dare', then to his father quietly tapping away on his phone on the couch a few feet away... then back at his phone.

"Charles- " You hiss, prepared to threaten his very existence but he cuts you off first- slipping off the bar stool beside you and heading for the hallway.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom."

Why am I friends with him again!? You think, but stay quiet and hope that Bart doesn't realise that you're back there despite having said hello to you earlier when he came in. You think, if you stay quiet like a mouse, he will forget your existence and keep texting until Chuck gets back- although, who knows how long he and Blair can go on for.

Depends what its about, honestly. If its about revenge or espionage... well, the conversation could last quite some time.

Should I just leave?

The impulse to run away is a strong one, as you sit there with your cheeks heating up and you start to feel nauseated. You never liked Bart Bass, from the moment you met him. Before that, actually. You had heard Chuck talking about him to Nate before you even became friends with them, and none of what you heard was good. And then you did meet him, one day when Chuck invited you over to do a school project. Or 'school project' as he so obnoxiously put it. You really did end up just doing a school project, though. Hence your friendship nowadays. Bart was creepy towards you even then, at 16 with terribly died hair and the wrong eyeshadow.

You've been very careful since then to never be alone with him like this. You would talk to him at parties if you were forced to, say hello to him when Chuck had you at his place and the man walked by, but that is the extent of your communication with the creep. Always, always, someone would be around. Chuck, mostly. But also staff, or Nate, or random fundraiser ladies, or Jack who Chuck the bastard never left alone with all willy-nilly like this, unfortunately, or Lily, or literally anyone else possible on the earth.

You've even hidden away in the men's bathroom, which is disgusting no matter how expensive the restaurant, with Nate before to get away from this man when Chuck once ditched you both at a dinner with him. And that's the story of how you got your first kiss, too, and it was from Nate Archibald. Hell yes.

That's how much this man makes you want to grab your bag and flee.

But you don't. You stay glued to your seat, super still, listening only to the tap-tap-tapping noises that Bart makes and the bump-bump-bump noises your heart is making right into your throbbing ears.

Until it stops.

Not the bump-bump-bumping, oh no. The tapping. And, nightmarishly, it's replaced by a groan and footsteps coming towards your turned back.

"Y/N," As soon as he says your name, his hands fall on your your shoulders and you literally jump under his touch. Shit- Shit- Fuck- what's happening- "I've been meaning to speak with you recently but Chuck- ah. Well you know him. He refused to share with me your telephone number. But I knew you'd turn up here at some point, so not to worry."

"Uh... right." You cant even force yourself to be your normal, cheery, polite self in this position. You just want him to get. off. of. you.

"Did you want a drink?" He asks, in that possibly cheery (But only because its slightly louder then his usual husk level) but mostly still scary voice he uses to convey emotion, letting go of you thankfully and rounding to the other side of the bar. You shake your head, though. He raises his brows, picking out a scotch for himself. "You don't drink? Shocking, seeing as you're friends with my son."

Oh I drink. You think, giving him a shrug. Just not in situations like this one. Also, what must he think of Chuck? Jesus Christ. For sure, your boy likes debauchery but what's wrong with that?

"Well, I like that." Bart pauses before pouring his drink, to appreciate you. "Mature."

Damn it. It makes your skin absolutely crawl.

"So... " You take a deep breath, tucking your hair back behind your ears rather then ruffling it back like you usually would to get it out of your face- lest that be recognised as some kind of extremely subtle form of flirting. God, fear makes you think weird things. "What did you want to discuss?"

"Oh- Just, your future. Where are you going to school? Will you be sticking close to us?"

Us? US? No, I'll be far far away, from you.

You don't really want to tell Bart where you're going to be going to school, because in your fear addled brain you know that that will just lead to 'Which campus?', or 'Where will you be staying?' and you really don't want it to go there.

You're just taking another, shakier deep breath, when the front door of the apartment opens and shuts loudly and set of feet trample down the hallway towards you. Immediately total relief plashes over you and you wipe your face. Oh, thank god.

Jack Bass appears in the doorway to the living room, looking as put-together yet somehow simultaneously still totally relaxed, as always, and forces aa polite smile onto his handsome face. "Brother. Y/N? Its good to see you."

You have no idea. "Good to see you too Jack. Uh- Chuck's in the bathroom."

"Thanks. For that... enlightening, information, Y/N. I needed that." You cheeks flare up in embarrassment, but ultimately you just roll your eyes as Jack flashes you a subtle wink, and turns promptly to his - much, - older brother. "Bart."

The older brother in question looks less then pleased at his baby brothers appearance in his home. Right now. And he possibly isn't thrilled about that little wink, either. Like you two are in on some kind of joke together. "Jack... What are you doing here?"

"Simmer down, bro. Just visiting." Even you know that that excuse is weak, but anything that comes out Jack's own monotonous voice right now is blessed where you're concerned so you certainly don't say anything. Or make any faces, which would be more appropriate. "Y/N, I don't think Bart-man here's too happy about my presence." Hm, no. You'd have to agree with that observation- not that you've looked up at Bart since Jack came in. You wont risk it. Jack glides through the room with the practised grace of a man who's lived 3 quarters of his life in suits and the other, happier quarter in board shorts, and ends up right next to your chair, an arm resting on the bench in front of you.

If you weren't already so nervous about Bart, you would blush about Jack.

"At least tell me you're glad to see me."

You grin, which is less forced then you thought it would be prior to trying it. Damn, he's good. You think, realising he just swepped in here and made you comfortable in less then 50 words. "Always, 'Uncle Jack'."

"Oh," He groans, like it physically pained him to hear you tease him like that. A tiny smirk even slips through his usually emotionless - well, not emotionless. He has one standing colour, that being sly, - stone statue of a face. "'Uncle Jack'- Please, stop. I'm barely a decade older then you."

That's enough to make anything else possible, inappropriate. Unfortunately. "Hey, I said I'm glad to see you." You wink, a bit sly yourself. "Count your blessings."

His grin widens a bit, like the dangerously charming Cheshire cat-type that he is. Genes that Chuck inherited, clearly, if his track record with girls say anything at all, but that Bart obviously missed out on. "You've got a point."

"She's a remarkable young woman." Bart pipes up, making your stomach tie itself up in knots again, and you immediately revert your gaze to your lap. Remarkable young woman... you want to barf. "Who, I was actually having a conversation with before you burst in here, unannounced." He takes a slow sip of his drink, then mutters. "And uninvited."

"Well that's great." Jack straightens up, clapping his hands together and finally showing his teeth in a smile. They're really freaken white, compared to his skin, deeply tanned by the hot Australian sun. "A visit would be kinda uncomfortable without a conversation; I'll join. I can converse with the best of 'em, Bart. I assure you."

"It was private." The old man sneers, thinking that he's got the upper hand on Jack, and all you can do is hope to god that he's wrong.

Jack turns his head back to look at you, and you meet his gaze tentatively. Your eyes scream, 'Please don't leave me alone with that guy'. He promptly looks back to Bart. "Well Bart why don't we ask the lady in the room what she wants? We are gentlemen here aren't we?" Then Jack makes a face, all crumpled up and unsure, for a moment. "Err. Well actually... 'gentleman' might be a bold faced lie. We'll ask anyway. Y/N! Do you mind if I weigh in here?"

"Not at all." You say quickly, flashing a tiny, thankful smile. He gives you another wink- this time actually subtle. So Bart didn't see it. Your smile gets a little bit bigger, relaxing. He's got you.

"Great." You watch him pull out the stool beside you, that Chuck - who has still not returned from his phone call with Blair. You assume some, likely cruel vengeance must be involved. Possibly involving that Humphrey guy, - had vacated and settles down in it. He then sets his arms firmly on the bench and looks up attentively at Bart, not breaking eye contact with him. Boy these Bass's like their stare downs. "So?" He prompts, expectantly. And a little arrogantly- a Bass speciality that you truly don't mind at all. "What's on the agenda, today?"

Bart glares heatedly, back.

~

Throughout the awkward discussion between the three of you, which your good friend Chuck has yet to return to discover - at this point you're resigned to him having climbed out the window and scaled the building probably, - , Jack constantly, skilfully changes the subject for you whenever Bart rears to close to somewhere uncomfortable. He makes jokes that make you laugh, he nudges you with his elbow at times - but never touches you any more then that, although you honestly wouldn't mind it if he did, - and takes the attention off you a lot. At times you truly thought you saw steam come out of Bart's ears.

When finally Bart gives up and excuses himself, saying he as an early dinner with Lily, you feel exhausted and relieved. After the door swings shut behind him, you cover your face with your hands and deeply sigh.

"So, what was that about? You looked like a trapped mouse. I recognise that look, I invented that look." You pull back slightly from your hands and glance over at him, to see him thoughtful for a moment. "Well, not by making it. By... causing... it... Either way, it was not good." He shakes his head, taking a sip of his own drink - scotch, - that he made Bart pour for him; Raising his eyebrows at you for an explanation over the rim of the glass.

Jack's always been great, like this. Even when he was horrible, he was the lesser of two evils between him and Bart. Good for a laugh and quality eye candy in a pinch- and that counts for a hell of a lot when it comes to surviving Bart Bass and the Upper East Side. And he had the power and pull of an adult, but knew what the hell was going on like one of you.

So he always made you feel at ease.

You ruffle your hair back, and sigh, straightening your back finally from their hunched over position they live in when you're uncomfortable and pushing back your shoulders. "He was just, saying some weird stuff... and Chuck disappeared to talk to Blair." At that, Jack nods in total understanding. Like ah, yeah. Got ya. Finally, you shrug. "He just makes me really uncomfortable. No offence, but I hate your brother."

As you watch Jack's eyes don't even flicker; He's totally on board with what you've said. Then he finishes the rest of his scotch in one gulp. "Ahh- I hate him too."

"As do we all." Chuck's voice suddenly pops up, as he appears in the doorway like Jack had earlier. You have to practice some serious self control so as to not laugh, at Chuck so coincidentally turning up again at the perfect moment to proclaim his hatred for his father. Jack grins back at Chuck coldly, nodding. Yeah. "Anyway, Y/N, I apologise but I'll be having to abandon you. Blair's waiting for me at her, empty, apartment." He pauses for a moment for dramatic effect, in perfect Chuck Bass fashion, and you roll your eyes, grinning. Jack smirks. "But you're welcome to stick around a while and help yourself to the amenities All on my tab, of course. Good to see you again, Jack." Then he pockets his phone and heads toward the door. The second Bass of the day leaves the building.

"Bye, nephew!" Jack waives as the elevator doors close behind Chuck then swiftly turns around back to you, to which you raise your eyebrows. "So, what do we do now?"

"I dunno." Shrugging you grin and turn your stool to angle your legs towards Jack. "When Chuck says those magical words 'All on my tab'," Those words, oh; You speak them with just as much raw, breathy sexual arousal as the man himself would. As the words demand. 'All on my tab'. Good lord, sex if they were words. "I tend to take advantage."

"An easy girl to please; That's what I like to see." Your cheeks flame up at those words out of Jack's mouth as he turns to look down at the room service menu. Yes, Jack Bass has toed the line, between platonic and flirtatious since the very moment you met the man... but that seemed a little bit more then toeing the line.

And you get a far different reaction to him doing it then you do the other Bass brother.

You don't even really mind the implications of his words.

"You're staying back with me?" You ask, feeling hopeful at the idea.

"Yeah well, I cant in, uh, good conscience," He makes a bit of a show to you, of pressing his hand to his chest totally earnestly as those words 'good conscience' come out of his mouth. "leave you here unguarded in case Bart comes back, can I? Besides, the way you said 'All on my tab'- man, you could sell moonshine at an AA meeting with that voice."

"Ha," You laugh, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. "Well, thanks."

"Oh. Don't thank me. You're just using what uh, your mama gave you. I actually encourage you totally, to do that more often- "

"No!" You exclaim, sighing in exasperation; But there is still a smile on your face you cant seem to shake. "For not leaving, today. When you walked in. It would've sucked if you had, not that I would've blamed you at all."

"Hey, just call me your knight in shining armour." He doesn't look up from the menu, flicking through it. Then turns to you with one of those beach boy/politician, toothless grins of his. "Besides you were automatically, my favourite person in the apartment. I mean, anyone with... uhhh- different, appendages to what I have, instantly gets a one-way ticket access to my rare bouts of chivalry. Now come over here, pick out what you want off here."

You just gape at him and that comment, making him stifle a laugh and return to the menu himself.

Bass's.

[kweebtrash]

StreamHearts Timestamp 11:59pm

Title: Fuck It, I Love You

Pairing: Camboy!JohnnyxCamgirlOC (Rem)

Word Count: 3.1k

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Features: established relationship not a perfect sex life, heavy size kink, soft-ish dom johnny, petnames, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie.

Synopsis:

Though Rem is a smart business woman she hides behind a computer screen all day designing websites for large companies. However, when her day is done she’s still behind a computer screen but now showing the world how hard she can cum. She never wanted to be a camgirl but when financial duties called she took it upon herself to make it. The spotlight (and money) got to her and she expanded to showcasing her nerdy side; livestreams, lewd cosplay photoshoots, let’s plays, subscriptions, review, vlogs, tutorials, you name it. Her streams catches the attention of a fellow cammer, Johnny, who on a whim decided to message her. Both aren’t the sexed up dolls they pretend to be in the online life and instead ease their way into a relationship with not so perfect sex, mistakes, and total confusion.

A/N: This used to be on my Kofi which im closing down and just putting everything up on here. This isnt continuing.

Masterlist     Johnny Only Masterlist

~~

“I just want to tease the fuck out of you.” The words came out as as sultry whisper poured into my ear. His tongue trailed against the cartilage, leaving the skin heated and wet similar to the junction of my thighs. Johnny had been kissing me for god knows how long. I had become so lost in him; his words, his touch, his entire being beside me. I was helpless and unable to escape the intoxication though I never wanted to. His words, however, put me in a place of submissiveness where i feared his teasing.

“P-please don’t…” I whined as I chased his lips from a kiss he denied me. “Don’t tease me. I’ve been good.”

“Have you?” His eyes were heavily lidded, pupils dilated with oxytocin and endorphins. The thrill of my eminent destruction only added to the sparks between us yet I was dreading it entirely. “I saw what you were doing in your last stream. You got a bigger dildo, didn’t you?”

My face rushed with color as i averted my gaze. “W-well...i wanted to practice.”

“Practice for who, baby?” He smirked and pushed a few sweat drenched stray hairs away from my face.

“Y-you, of course.” We hadn’t fucked on camera yet. We had come to the consensus not to until we perfected the art of intimacy between us first. Though there was a small problem, or rather a large problem. The first few times Johnny had tried to penetrate me it was futile. The thickness of his head was no match for how small my hole was. No matter how many fingers he could attempt to fit inside me (barely two) to try and stretch me out or how much lube or cum i exerted helped. And so I took it upon myself to cast aside my six and seven inch dildos to try and accommodate for the moment where we would unite.

“Still too much, huh?” He chuckled lowly. I watched as his fingertips barely brushed against my skin as he made a ticklish trail down my stomach to the thin fabric of my panties. They slipped beneath the cotton and i instinctively spread my thighs. His middle finger pushed between my lower lips and circled my entrance languidly. “Why is my perfect princess so tiny?”

“I’m sorry,” I said with a heavy pang of guilt. I had constantly felt like I had ruined moments in our beds because my body wouldnt except him even if my mind and heart were yearning to have him so deep inside me that i could feel him in my stomach.

Johnny pressed a kiss to my forehead and smiled. “Don’t be. I love how fucking tight you are for me.”

I scrunched up my nose and pushed his face away playfully. “Don’t say such things. You make it sound pervy!”

Another chuckle. “I can’t help it sometimes.” He began to move his finger through me, gathering the wetness that had accumulated and spreading it over the most sensitive areas. “You know it turns me on to see how small you are.”

I pressed my lips together in an attempt to hide a mewl. I was lost on what I had wanted to respond with as my brain frizzled. “U-uh, um...I th-think your size kink is s-showing!” My stomach clenched when he dipped his fingertip in, alarming me. He shushed me gently, cooing at me to relax as he placed kisses and nibbles along the column of my neck.

“I got you, baby girl. You know i do.” I wrapped my arms around his torso and pulled him closer together so i could bury my face in his chest. His free arm snaked around me as well, settling on my shoulders as he gauged my reactions to his minuscule thrusts. I bit down on his collarbone as I rushed to rock my hips and let him know that I was able to take more. He pushed into me deeper, curling his finger quickly in an effort to make the sound of my natural lubrication bounce off the bright pink walls of my room. “Did you get all worked up just from me kissing you?”

He was proud of himself. I could always tell in the tonality of his voice. A certain cockiness that anything he did made me wet. It stemmed from the exchange of us watching each other’s streams. I had spent hours consuming video after video of him jerking off, fucking his own ass, and doing other lewd acts that got him tips in seconds. He, on the other hand, told me that he was more captivated by the faces and sounds I made and would prefer to just watch as he fucked me. It sounded silly to say since I had thousands of viewers and I masturbated on camera but I was still a shy person who preferred to metaphorically hide their head in the sand like an ostrich. Johnny intimidated me as many a times my face would be forced towards his and i was commanded to not dare look away. His deep brown eyes would peer into my soul, eating it up like a meal and leaving me an empty husk of a woman once I orgasmed at his hands. “Shut up.” I said through gritted teeth as he halted his vibrant thrusts.

His finger left me and instead disappeared into his mouth. With a slick pop he removed all of my taste from the digit and sighed as he gave me a once over. “Take these off.” He snapped at the band of my panties that he had stripped me down to during our initial makeout session. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband and wiggled them down before flicking them off my foot. Johnny spread my thighs wide, leaving me completely exposed. I went back to hiding in the crook of his neck, hoping he wouldnt notice if i distracted him with some bites. A harsh tap to my clit told me otherwise. I yelped and laid my own defensive slap against his chest. "Jerk!"

"Dont close your legs then." Johnny said sternly. I pouted, puffing out my cheeks as i rolled away from him, my arms across my chest. His large hand grabbed onto my hip and pulled me onto my back again. He didnt particularly like when i protested or became a bit bratty. A submissive princess was where he liked me to be at all times. Though now I wasnt even able to utter a word because he hooked his leg over mine, keeping my thighs separated while one hand grabbed both my wrists and pinned them above my head. His other hand was back to grabbing my face and forcing me to look at him. He'd be damned to hell if he didnt break that habit of mine. "The fuck did i just say?"

I flexed my fingers as i tried (and failed) to release myself from his grasp. "You said…" i looked into his eyes that had honeyed in the yellow glow of my bedside lamp. That was another weakness if mine, as if Johnny as a whole wasnt enough. His eyes in particular always destroyed me. I couldnt expressing the rest of my sentence, which was supposed to be a snarky retort, because of the intense hold he had over me. I was instead stuck nibbling at his bottom lip and whimpering for him to let me go. "I could touch you." I finally said in between small licks. "Youre hard."

"And? I get off on seeing you get off. I also get off on when youre a good girl for me."

"Liar. You love it when i misbehave. You always start moving the toys faster when i do." That was what he used when he really wanted to punish me; small dildos and vibrators in various settings and speeds, making sure i writhed and arched with every thrust.

"And what toy should i used on my babygirl tonight? What would get you all pink and squirmy for me?" He smirked and sucked my lips between his, lapping at the soft skin.

"I dont want a toy. I want you." I admitted.

Johnny sighed and pulled away from me entirely. "You know we cant. We've tried and we cant. I told you im not going to hurt you."

"I know!" I clutched onto his arm. "I know. But this time will be different. Im gonna do it."

He shook his head. "If i force it too much i could tear you. Rem, i'm seriously not going to try right now."

"Please!" I begged and looked up at him with puppy eyes. "Just one try, ok? Just one? You dont know how many times I've dreamt about you fucking me senseless. I just want you inside me so badly. I cant take it anymore."

He rolled his eyes, annoyed at my persistence. "Fine. Just one try. And i mean one."

I gave him a sweet kiss and pulled him on top of me. He settled between my legs which i laid on the outside of his thighs. He stroked the smooth and sensitive skin on my inner thighs as he trailed his thumbs upwards to spread my lower lips apart. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips as he drunk in the sight at my slightly flexed gape. "Are you sure?" He asked.

I pushed my hand between us and gripped the outline of his cock firmly. "Johnny I don't want you, I need you."

He went to say something again but snapped his jaw shut. Quickly, he discarded his boxer briefs and guided his swollen cock towards my entrance. Seeing him throb was another part of my guilt. He would leak and swell as we romped around and yet could only get off by a blowjob or a handjob. Sometimes he would thrust between my thighs or against my ass but I knew it was just barely enough for him. His cum didn't belong splattered across my skin; it belonged inside me, filling me to the brim and keeping me warm. I closed my eyes and let every bit of tension leave my body. If I could just get the head in, it would be smooth sailing from there.

A small push threatened the barricade of my tightness. The tension returned but only for a moment. I kept it shoved aside and focused on taking in the tip. I could feel centimeter by centimeter, gauging how far he could go, and when I found the glans stuffed inside me both of us shuddered hard. I covered my mouth as soon as I let out a sharp gasp. The feeling of being stretched burned and tingled and yet I took in the discomfort with a sense of gratitude. This was the farthest we had gotten and even if this was all he could get inside it was better than nothing.

Johnny's hands were trembling as he bruised my hips in the pattern of his fingers. "J-jesus...babe." He sucked in a harsh breath and swallowed hard. Beads of sweat had gathered at his brow and it was almost like he was losing control already. "God you feel so damn good. How are you even taking me?"

I held one of his hands and brought it to my lips, kissing the back of it. "You said it yourself. You saw me practicing on camera but you didn't see what I did when I was alone." I parted my lips then and ushered in two of his fingers, sucking slowly. I circled my tongue around the tips and swallowed all the way down to the knuckle all while perfecting by bedroom eyed gaze at him. His hips snapped as his body trembled, making me wince around his fingers. He had managed to squeeze in more of his cock and even produced some minuscule thrusts that had him looking like he was already prepped to go over the edge.

He gripped harder at my hip to the point where it hurt but I knew it was a sign of pleasure and that's all I wanted to give him. I mewled around his fingers and nudged my legs a little higher to rest by his waist. The adjustment built up pressure in the pit of my stomach and made my overstretched walls clench harder. Johnny groaned deeply and begged me to ease my hold on him but I couldn't. Even when I got used to the new addition of girth I was still suctioned around him. My face flushed as I heard his groans turn into growls. The muscles in his strong arms bulged as his shoulders caved in and an unexpected heat tsunamied into me.

My eyes widened at the revelation that he had cum inside me-the first time I had ever felt the sensation. It was strange and yet because it was Johnny it also felt...cozy in a way. A warm perfection that symbolized him succumbing to everything I had wanted to give him. Though one thing was for sure, I was surprised at how quickly it happened. I let his hand go and instead held onto my tummy that I swore was bulging slightly. Johnny ran a hand over his face and pushed his hair back but as soon as our eyes caught each other his face burned beet red even to the tips of his ears. "Do you...um, do you always cum that fast when you're in someone?" I tried to ask as politely as possible.

He pulled out of me and ran straight to the bathroom, slamming the door harshly. I frowned, realizing that the small comment had hurt his pride but I had to be honest that I wanted more from him. I sat up slowly and felt a rush of cum flow out of me, thicker than I expected. Him pulling out so swiftly left me sore and on wobbly knees yet I walked over to the bathroom, trying to keep my thighs pressed together so I wouldn't make an even bigger mess. "Johnny?" I asked as I knocked on the door.

"Go away." I heard him mumble.

"Johnny, why'd you run? Was it because of what I said? I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Go. Away."

I huffed and grabbed a hold of the door. I was prepared to force my way through but it wasn't locked at all. I stumbled as I stepped in and saw Johnny sitting on the toilet cover, head between his knees and arms dangling by his feet. "Johnny." I sunk to my knees in front of him. "Look at me, please."

"No." He replied, muffled.

"Johnny." I repeated, sternly this time. "What's wrong?"

"'M embarrassed." He mumbled.

"Embarrassed? How come?"

"I've never cum that fast before. Ever. I feel like a loser."

I pushed his head up gently and sighed. "Guaranteed I did want it to last longer but this was the first time you were able to thrust inside me. Maybe it was because of all that pent up energy from when you couldn't do it before. Orrrrr," I nudged his arm playfully. "I'm just that damn good."

"I don't need your cockiness now." He pouted cutely.

"It's ok, baby, really. We're still finding each other out. This is the first time anyone has cared about not hurting me. I'd take that over some idiot that would barge in any day. Please don't be embarrassed."

"Easy for you to say."

"You think I want to be this tight? Sure it sounds like a whole fantasy but being tiny sucks. I want to get railed until I can't walk but I cry as soon as something big comes near me."

"You didn't cry this time." He pointed out and I perked up instantly.

"Hey, you're right. I didn't. That's progress!" I smiled and gave him a small kiss in an effort to cheer him up a little. "And you know what this means, right?"

Johnny sat back against the toilet tank and let out an exasperated sigh. "What?"

"We can keep practicing." I rose to my feet and straddled his lap. "I know you like practicing."

Finally a twinge appeared at the corner of his mouth. He couldn't resist the thought of more touching, groping, kissing, and grinding. "Well...I guess you're right."

I peered down at his still mostly hard cock as curiously got the best of me. "You came but you're still hard?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes it takes awhile to go down. Sometimes I can squeeze another one out."

I lifted my hips and slowly sunk down on him, catching him by surprise. He jerked suddenly and held onto me tightly. "Re-Rem!"

"Maybe we can work on me taking all of you this time. And making sure you last longer."

"I-its your fault for fuckin' suffocating me!" He said through grit teeth. "Just like you're doing now!"

I wrapped my arms around his neck and grabbed a handful of his hair. "Don't tell me you cant take it, baby."

He licked his lips and fluttered his eyes shut. "You have no idea what you do to me Rem."

"You're wrong." I wiggled down more on his shaft, now about a quarter of the way down before the tingling started again. "I know exactly how you feel because you drive me crazy too. Especially now."

He buried his face in my neck, splattering kisses here and there. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

I giggled and squeezed him tight. "I love you, Johnny."

A silence fell over the room as that was also a first between us. I was afraid he wouldn't reciprocate the sentiment and felt my heart race. Now I was the embarrassed one yet I felt him smile against my collar bone. "Yeah?"

I nodded. "I-is that okay? To say that? I d-dont want to scare you off."

"I'm not going anywhere. Trust me. I love you too." I pursed my lips together to hide a squeal though I was too giddy to even think straight. I almost didn't notice Johnny standing up, myself now in his arms and our bodies remaining connected. "Can I show you how much I love you?"

"Please."

[angrylizardjacket]

ask your destiny to dance [11] {Roger Taylor}

[masterpost]

The second worst part is that Kristin is so nice. She’s bright, and sweet, and she ‘loves  that shirt where did you get it from? You made it, oh that’s so cool! I could never do something like that you’re so talented!’ She’s so earnest, barely nineteen, and she clings a little, to Roger when he’s around, to Ash and Mary, because they answer her questions; she’s starry-eyed when she stands and watches the band through the glass of the sound studio window. She doesn’t know a lot about music, but she knows enough to appreciate the work they’re putting in. 

The worst part is that she takes a liking to Ash.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to talk so much, I’m just nervous, you know?” And Kristin’s smiling a little distractedly as she watches Roger play. “I mean, I only met him a few weeks ago-” and she keeps talking but Ash’s brain short circuits; she’s not just a girl he picked up at the bar, she’s a girl he invited to the bar to watch him play.

“Could I talk to you for a second?” Ash asks, standing abruptly, holding out her hand to Kristin. The other woman takes it, and Mary shoots the ginger a supportive smile.

Ash wants to tell Kristin to run as far as she can, wants to warn this kind-faced girl about what Roger was capable of, wants to tell her that he basically admitted that he still wants to hook up with Ash not forty minutes ago, but as soon as the door swings closed, Kristin starts.

“I know you’re friends with Roger,” she starts, a little sheepish, and Ash’s eyes go wide, “and you’re protective of him or something like that, but-”

“No, not at all!” Ash blurts out, realising she’s still holding Kristin’s hand. “It’s you I’m worried about, darlin’.” It’s takes a long moment for Kristin to process Ash’s words, wide-eyed. “Roger can be,” Ash takes a moment in the silence to choose her words carefully, humming as she turned each over in her mind before settling on; “fickle.” Run fast, run far, he mind yells, but Ash is already feeling selfish for thinking it; she’s told him she’s going to try and keep it platonic from now on, she shouldn’t try and scare off someone he’s a little serious about. 

She’s not jealous. 

If she keeps telling herself that, maybe she’ll believe it, maybe she’ll stop feeling like her emotions are betraying her.

“Fickle?” Kristin’s brow furrows, and her expression turns soft. “You’re worried about me? Oh, Ash- can I call you Ash?” She asks nervously, not at all patronising, and Ash lets herself grin.

“It is my name.” 

“I promise I can take care of myself.” Kristin assures her, but the horrible thought flashes through Ash’s mind, that August would adore her, Ash knows immediately that she has to keep Roger from hurting her while they’re together.

“I’m sure you can.” Ash gives her a kind smile, forcing herself to relax. “I just wanted to say my peace.” She said, and Kristin gives her fond smile, squeezing her hand as a reassurance, before they head back into the recording studio.

“You two... seem to be getting along.” Roger doesn’t sound like he likes that, eyes zeroing in on where the girls hands are clasped, and Ash gives him a sunny smile. He narrows his eyes further, plopping himself onto the other end of the sofa from Mary. Kristin lets go of Ash and immediately makes her way over to him, sitting in his lap, and something in Ash’s chest tightens painfully, smile dropping as he wraps an arm around her.

“She’s just being kind.” Kristin assures him, and Ash is pretty sure she sees a sarcastic response pass through Roger’s mind, but he bites it back.

“She’s good at that when she wants to be.” He says instead, quiet, apologetic smile on his face when he makes eye contact with Ash, and the girl in question just gives a jerky nod, turning to watch John begin playing.

“Yes, our Ash can be a sweetheart.” Freddie says from his seat beside the sound engineer, and Ash gives him a grateful smile, and he gives her a nod of acknowledgement, smile reassuring.

“A downright sap, sometimes.” Mary calls from the sofa, despite the fact that they both knew she’d never seen Ash as anything less than a dry-humoured bartender, though Ash still feels her cheeks heat up, embarrassed.

“Okay, okay, thanks I think she gets it.” And when Ash turns back, Kristin and Roger are quiet, her head on his shoulder, both looking up; she’s looking at Deaky, looking relaxed and content, and Roger is looking at Ash, a little confused.

“I don’t want to get into another argument.” Roger says it around a cigarette when Ash joins him outside for a smoke. He’s restless, both from the tension he can feel crackling from Ash, and the fact that they’ve yet to strike gold in the recording studio.

“I just don’t know how you could say all that to me while you knew she was in the next room; you’re dating her, aren’t you?” She doesn’t light up her own cigarette, just shoves her hands into her jean pockets. Her voice is hollow.

“I’m sorry.” It’s the most sincere he’s sounded so far, and the silence that follows feels like eons. “I’m sorry I said what I said; about the standards comment and everything else, okay? After what happened with August, we were good, weren’t we? Not back to... to whatever we were before, but we were good. I miss that.” I miss you, he thinks, but he can’t say it. “What happened?”

Ash can’t open her mouth because she knows if she does, she’ll say exactly what she’s thinking, that they were good, but she watched him pick up Kristin at her bar and she was hit with how much his words had hurt her, and how much it hurt to have proof of him spending the night with someone else.

“I guess I’ve just been bottling up being mad about that comment you made.” She lied easily, shrugging, not meeting his gaze. “You are dating her, aren’t you; you’ve been together for a few weeks now.” And Ash isn’t sure which answer will hurt more.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He seems a little uncertain, and he’s reached the end of his cigarette.

“She’s good.” Ash says, quiet enough that Roger almost doesn’t catch it, and when he goes to comment, she looks up, smiling a little too brightly. “We’re good, for real.” He thinks for a moment that she’s correcting her earlier statement, but he’s not quite sure, and she reaches out to rest a hand on his shoulder, and he’s frowning, confused. There’s a sincerity in her eyes that he can’t help but believe, and as soon as she can see he believes her, she’s turned and headed back inside.

“Don’t you think I sound like shit?” Ash walks in as Freddie is pacing, listening to a playback of himself. As if working off muscle memory alone, he moves in to give Ash a distracted side hug, before letting her go. Ash herself is a little distracted, and she makes her way over to where John’s sitting by the sound engineer, deep in thought. She rests her chin on his shoulder, uncertain of what else to do, and he pets her face comfortingly as a form of acknowledgement. 

They’re so close to gold it’s almost painful, and she watches Freddie, restless, step back into the recording booth. Stepping back, Ash listens as he sings, hears the door open and close but doesn’t turn, just gives her best friend her full attention, and seeing her there, less troubled than earlier, bright and focused on him, Freddie’s own focus intensifies.

“What if we bounce it left and right for the ‘ah-ah-ah’s?” He suggested on the next playback, resting an arm on Ash’s shoulder, frowning at the soundboard. They listened, Freddie’s voice sliding from the speaks on the left to the right, a little hypnotically.

“And then centre for the last one!” Brian says, eyes bright, filled with a new energy, coming up and leaning on Ash’s other shoulder, to which she couldn’t help but grin, feeling the electricity crackle through the air as they listened back to the recording as they experimented on it.

“And blast it!” Roger cries; and there it is, coming together, gold.

Freddie picks Ash up, spinning her around, ecstatic, before he’s turning and reaching for Mary. They’re bottling lightning from the moment they step back into the studio, experimenting with their sound, and it’s like a weight has dropped from everyone’s shoulders, tension leaving only to be replaced with elation and excitement. Ash throws herself back onto the sofa between Kristin and Mary, positively beaming, and Mary wraps her arms around Ash, pulling her in for a tight hug, while Kristin tapped Ash’s leg with excitement. 

Everyone’s up, down, and all over the place; at one point, Ash is on Brian’s shoulders with a tambourine, and then she was pulling the change from her wallet, pouring it onto the drums, along with the others, and she and Kristin were botching the cha-cha to a playback of Modern Times Rock ‘N Roll as Freddie and Mary were stepping through a surprisingly good jive, and the other three were bopping along; Roger grinned as he watched Ash dance. Actually, she realises, he’s probably watching Kristin; she doesn’t dwell on it.

The night was growing later, and they were still working as Kristin called it a night, and Ash had her head in Mary’s lap as the boys were in the recording studio, trying to record with a bucket over the microphone, and Mary was nodding off against the back of the lounge but Ash felt electric. Men in suits come in asking for a demo, but she’s too wrapped up in the music being made to even really register them. They leave with a demo of the recording before she’s even fully realised they were there.

“Where’s Kristin gone?” Roger asks, eyes bright as he moves to the sofa. Ash pulls her legs back, making room for him, before she puts her legs in his lap without thinking, neither of them really register it, it feels like it always has, and they’re smiling at each other.

“I think she went home.” Ash told him, and Roger’s gaze slides to Mary, something fondly amused about his expression. His hand is on Ash’s thigh and something inside her feels sated.

“I think Mary’s about ready to call it quits too.” He mused, voice getting a little quieter as to not disturb her, before he looks back at Ash. “I appreciate you being cool about Kristin.” He said, and Ash rolled her eyes.

“Well I wasn’t going to flip out, that’s a pretty dead giveaway that something did happen between us.” Ash’s voice was light, she seemed more exasperated than anything else. Mary makes a noise in her sleep, and for a moment, there’s fear in Ash’s eyes that she had heard what Ash had said. Roger is quiet for a long moment, his expression nervous as he looks at Mary, and his hand begins to move in a comforting rhythm against Ash’s thigh. She doesn’t seem inclined to move or to ask him to stop.

“You guys sound so fucking good.” Ash finally breaks the silence, tension dropping as she beams at him.

“Well we’re glad to have you with us; our unofficial mascot.” He muses, and Ash smacks his arm, snorting out a laugh. “Fine, not a mascot, our... what do you do for us?” He asked, which only made Ash laugh harder. Mary made another noise, and Ash pressed her lips together, stifling a guilty laugh as she sat up, moving her legs from beside Roger to sit next to him, legs tucked up onto the sofa. He kept his hand on her thigh.

“I serve you drinks and lend Freds my clothes,” she clarified, and Roger nodded as seriously as he could, the two of them looking through the window to see Freddie and John waving about card board tubes as Brian was fiddling with the amp.

“So you’re our costumer?” He asked, and Ash made a thoughtful noise, smiling at the notion.

“Only if I can dress all of you-” and as she said it, Roger’s hand slowed, coming to rest at the top of her thigh. Ash’s smile became a little tight. “Of course I was going to be cool about Kristin.” It’s so fucking pointed it hurts both of them a little, and he folds his hands in his lap.

“Of course you can dress us, I’d look great in sequins.” He mused, tone still bright and amused, and Ash snorted, rolling her eyes.

“You give yourself too much credit, Rog.” But there’s still a tension there, and Roger turns to her, eyebrows raised, and his answer is so automatic that he doesn’t register it until the words are out of his mouth.

“Ash, look at me, look at my face; I look good in everything, I even look good in nothing.” 

Ash can feel in this instance that she’s at a crossroads; her mouth goes dry, and she has to look away, something in her chest tightening.

“You’re really doing this? You really decided that that was what you needed to say right now? God, you’re an idiot.” She gives a humourless laugh, standing. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” He tries, but she just shrugs helplessly.

“You are who you are, Rog, I get it.” And she started collecting her things. “Just try not to act on your instincts, for Kristin, okay? She’s good. I’m going home, it’s late.” And she gives him a tired smile. “Tell the others I said goodbye; I am really proud of you guys.” 

Roger nods, giving her a weak smile, and watches her leave.

the ususal suspects: @deakydickfanpage @hollyissuchahoe  @laueecakee  @smittyjaws @crystalshines2909 @i-am-sarah @legendsaresooftenwarnings @2ptonpt @benhardy24-7 @maiilovely @mickey-yr-a-goner @butter-times @heyyouitskay @tired-eyes-fairy-lights @yepimthatperson @missieluvsmurder @ironqueen98 @ceruleanrainblues@banhbao329 @fantasticchaoticwho @ko-kitty @seven-seas-of-hi @mimisfangirlfantasy @aadjuric @rogmobile @cardybenhardy @snacfu @perriwiinkle​ @the-strange-fan-girl​

[sadprose-auroras]

‘About Time’ - Roger TaylorxFem!Reader (Part 1)

A/N: Hello my darlings! I can’t decide if I hate this or not, and I’m not sure if I’ll continue writing this, depends on the response. Please let me know if you want me to continue it (it would probably require way more parts, like a full on series). Hope you enjoy! - Also, this can apply to Ben Hardy’s portrayal of Roger. Whatever you prefer!

(This was totally inspired by a couple time travel fics I read a few weeks ago, I can’t remember the authors or the names but all credits to them for the time travel idea…. LOVE. IT. I just HAD to write my own, crappier version)

Find my other works here!

 You sunk to the floor, your knees giving out beneath you. You felt ridiculous, curling up in a ball, in your wardrobe, but you had reached your breaking point; everything had suddenly hit you. As you hugged your knees, sobbing, your jeans became tear-soaked. Your mind wandered, as your cheeks flamed in embarrassment and shame about your current state, despite nobody being around. How did you get here? A few months ago, your life was great. You had a great job, a great circle of friends and boyfriend, and you were pursuing your passion; studying fashion design. Then, everything began to crumble around you. All your friends turned on you, you got fired, and your studies began to slip as a result, causing you to fail an exam.  

 If all that wasn’t bad enough, you found out your boyfriend of two years had been cheating on you for a year and 11 months. Go figure. It was as if the universe was playing some long, cruel joke on you, just to see how long before you gave up on trying to pursue any kind of happiness. Just as you came to the conclusion that you really had nothing to fight for, leaning your head back on the wall behind you and closing your eyes, the strangest feeling overcame you. Your head began to spin, and pins and needles covered your entire body. You tried to open your eyes, to move your body, but you were frozen. Your heart rate increased rapidly, and you began to think that this was really it. Whatever was happening, you were going to die. Strangely enough, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.  

 By some miracle, everything stopped. The pins and needles ceased, and, save a throbbing headache, you felt much better. You experimentally wiggled your toes, and you had feeling back again. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, looking around you. It was dark, but you could make out the shapes of the clothes hanging around you. Oddly, you didn’t recognise any of them. The chair that was next to you when you closed your eyes was gone, replaced by a shoe rack.  

You stood up, closed your eyes again and rubbed your temples, trying to rid of the probable hallucinations. You racked your brain, thinking back to when you studied psychosis in high school. You couldn’t remember a thing. Was temporary paralysis a symptom? 

 You decided you needed to call a doctor. You pulled your iPhone out of your pocket, still in the dark, and opened up safari. You had no wifi, and no reception. Frowning, you opened the wardrobe door, the knob feeling unfamiliar, to be greeted by a figure doing the same. The door swung open suddenly, bouncing on its hinges.

 You both screamed loudly, and, without looking at the figure in front of you, you tried to push past to get away, however, a hand gripped you and pulled you back. 

 Your eyes became fixed on the man in front of you. You frowned, unable to tear your eyes off him. The hallucinations were getting worse; you were conjuring up images of people in your home. Hang on. You knew his face all too well; you had spent hours watching him drum and sing at concerts on YouTube. It couldn’t be, could it?

 “Who are you, and what the hell are you doing in my wardrobe!?” he asked, releasing his grip on you. You winced, rubbing where his fingernails had dug into you. This was all too much.

 “I should be asking you the same thing, why are you in my house? What’s going on?” you looked around the room, expecting to see your familiar bedroom; your posters plastered around the walls, your colourful duvet, and your plush white carpet. Instead, the walls were empty, the duvet was blue, and the carpet was grey.

 “I need to sit down,” you said, overwhelmed, perching on the edge of the unfamiliar bed. You glanced up at the man in front of you, his expression still shocked and wide-eyed, as he looked you up and down, his brows furrowing. 

 “God, you seem so real,” you laughed. “But there’s no way.”“What the fuck do you mean?” he replied. “I know I’m real, but I can’t say the same about you. I’ve never known anyone who can just appear out of thin air,” he shook his head in disbelief. 

 You frowned, rubbing your hands through your hair. “What do you mean, I appeared out of thin air?” your stomach began to sink. For reasons you couldn’t explain, something else was going on. Something much weirder than you initially thought.

 “Well, I don’t see how you could have got into my wardrobe without me seeing. I’ve been in my room for 20 minutes.” You glanced at his legs, frowning. What kind of person wears flared jeans anymore? 

 “I, um,” you began, a laugh escaping your lips despite yourself. This was all too ridiculous. You were actively avoiding eye contact with him. You figured if you acknowledged that it was him, at that age, in front of you, this would all go away. It was impossible. Suddenly, it all came together, as shocking as it was. It wasn’t him that was in the wrong place, it was you. This wasn’t your house. You had no wifi or reception. And, Roger Taylor, looking as he did circa 1972, was right in front of you. Had you time travelled? Your head span at the possibility. What else could explain these strange occurrences? 

 “What year is it?” you asked, this time properly meeting his eyes this time. Photos didn’t do the real thing justice; his baby blue eyes were maintaining steady eye contact with you, his lips were slightly parted, and his hair looked so soft and angelic. He was insanely beautiful. You internally cursed yourself. Now was definitely not the time.  

“1972…” he said, becoming even more confused. Your theory was confirmed. You’d watched all of the Back to the Future movies countless times, but you’d never imagined anything like that could ever really happen. Especially to you; plain, boring, old you. 

 “I know you’re probably not inclined to believe the crazy girl from your wardrobe, but I think,” you bit your lip, concerned at how he would take the news. “I think I’m from the future.” 

----------

 “So, you’re telling me you didn’t do anything for this to actually happen?” Roger asked. After trying to explain to him a million times, that yes, you were in fact just as confused as him, and no, you didn’t climb through his window, you tried to remain patient. He had every right to be confused as hell, you would definitely react the same if you were in his shoes. Despite this though, he was oddly trusting, allowing you to remain in his house and actually giving you the time of day to explain your side of the story. He even offered you a glass of water and something to eat, which you accepted gratefully. You were starving. 

 “Yes, I was literally just in my wardrobe, then the next thing I knew we were screaming in each other’s faces.” 

 “How do I know you’re telling the truth? You don’t seem very sane so far. I’m going to need some proof. You could just be a crazy girl who will do anything to sleep with me,” he smirked. You rolled your eyes. So the stories were true, he really was cocky.

 “Don’t flatter yourself, Taylor,” you retorted. “And no,” you said quickly, as he opened his mouth to speak, “I don’t know your surname because I’m a crazy stalker.” Your mind wandered to your extensive Queen record and CD collection. Okay, so maybe you were a little, but he didn’t need to know that. 

 “I know because Queen makes it big. I mean, massive.” You bit your lip nervously. If Back to the Future taught you anything, nobody should know too much about their own future. For the first time in your life, you had to think about what you said before you said it.

“How can I convince you?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “What year do you claim to come from, anyway?”

“2019,” you bit your lip. 

His eyes widened in disbelief. “Shit,” he mumbled. “Am I….?”

 “Still alive? Yeah.” Suddenly, you had an idea. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, thankful it was still charged. You turned it on, the time and date you had left still displayed on the screen (18th January 2019, 11:00), in front of a picture of Queen from 1975. You turned the screen towards him. 

 “Holy shit, is that me?” he gasped, leaning forward. “2019.” He looked up at you, and you shrugged and nodded. You were thankful he didn’t know the implications of having a picture of somebody as your lockscreen. 

 “There’s something else,” you unlocked your phone, opening music and searching for ‘Doing Alright.’ You pressed play, the song pouring out of the speakers.

Yesterday, my life was in ruin

Now today, I know what I’m doing… 

“Oh my god, that’s our song! We haven’t even released it yet.” He chuckled. You couldn’t help but grin at his excitement, encapsulated by his gorgeous smile. 

 “Wanna hear more?” you smirked. It’s funny, you had never felt so comfortable around somebody so quickly. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something about him relaxed you. 

----------

 “Have you noticed I haven’t asked about that thing you’re holding, ‘cause I’m too scared to?”

 You laughed, covering your mouth with your hand. You’d spent the last half an hour playing Roger a few more Queen songs. A small nagging voice in the back of your mind was telling you to stop, to not reveal anything about his future, no matter how small. But Roger’s pleading to hear more won.

 “It’s actually a phone,” you said, to answer his question. “Well, that’s its main purpose anyway. You can use it to take and store pictures, play music, and use the internet. Which, well, you’ll find out about in approximately 18 years.”

 “I’m intrigued, what’s the internet?” he asked. You thought of all the unspeakable things you had come across on social media, and shook your head.“You don’t want to know.” He raised an eyebrow at you, and you tried to suppress a blush.  

You cleared your throat, averting your eyes from him as you straightened up in your seat. “What’s the time?” you asked. He glanced down at his watch. “3am,” he laughed in disbelief. “We should probably get some sleep. I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

 You shook your head rapidly, taken aback by his utter kindness. “Oh my god no, please, I will. It’s your house,” you said, getting up from the chair you were sitting on. He did the same. You both stood awkwardly, basically staring at each other. You couldn’t help but think of the times you watched a Queen documentary on TV, with the Roger of your time’s commentary. It was hard to believe the man in front of you was the same person.  

 He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes off you, and going into his bedroom, mumbling something about getting something for you to sleep in.  

 As you awaited his return, you couldn’t help but wonder why you were so focused on how flustered you were around Roger, and not worried about the fact that you were literally stuck in the wrong year, and had no idea how to get back. The funny thing was, you had no desire to. You hadn’t felt so at home in a long time, than when you were laughing and talking with Roger. He made you feel so safe, so quickly. And that feeling would only grow stronger when you both gave up on convincing the other to sleep on the couch, and ended up sharing his bed. 

PART 2: BONUS CONTENT THAT I WROTE THE SAME DAY AS PART ONE. I’M NOT GOING TO CONTINUE IT BUT WHAT’S THE POINT OF HAVING IT IN A WORD DOC N NOT POSTING IT?

When I was writing this, I couldn’t stop imagining rom-com moments. Like, the outfit section? A cute montage with a cute song. Damn I wish I could express the images in my head more clearly, in words. My writing sucks. 

“Y/N, wake up. Y/N!!” A familiar, yet foreign, voice startled you. As you came to your senses, you realised your usual soft, silky sheets were replaced with cotton ones, and an unusual smell wafted around you. You slowly opened your eyes, to be greeted by Roger leaning over you, a slightly annoyed look on his face. Fuck. It was real. He must’ve read your disappointment on your face, and he smiled sympathetically and nodded.

“Yep, you’re still here,” he mumbled. You couldn’t help but sigh; you’d hoped it was a really long, unusual dream.

“I have to go to rehearsal for a gig tonight. Do you wanna come?” Of course you didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to meet the rest of the band, and literally see the magic happen, you couldn’t help but feel like you were invading. But then again, who could say they had the chance to sit in on an early Queen rehearsal, especially knowing how successful and impactful they were going to become?

“I don’t – I don’t want to intrude,” you mumbled, sitting up in the bed and clutching the duvet around you, suddenly feeling exposed in Roger’s white shirt.

“Well it’s your choice, I understand that you probably don’t want to sit around with us when you could be finding a way back home or finding your parents or something,” he said.

Although you would never admit it, you wanted nothing more than to go with him. Not only was it literally history in the making, but the absence of your birth parents in your life, leading to a childhood of foster families who couldn’t care less about you, gave you a sense of independence at a young age. You knew how to be alone, seeking solace in music. Music created by the greats like Queen made you feel less alone, as silly as it sounded. It was your escape from the struggles in your real life.

“Wait, no. I want to come. If you don’t mind. But I need something 70s appropriate to wear,” you chuckled, glancing over at your high-waisted skinny jeans and cropped knit jumper folded neatly on a chair.

“I think that can be arranged.” Roger grinned at you, and you were struck with yet another wave of disbelief. Roger Taylor was going to lend you come of his iconic clothes.

After spending a couple of hours going through Roger’s clothes, which was your absolute dream, you finally settled on a pair of pants that were a little too short, and a shirt that was slightly too tight across the chest. You tried to spice up the outfit with a few of Roger’s necklaces, much to his dismay.

“Do I look okay?” you asked when you stepped out, twirling around with your arms out.

Roger, standing with a pile of clothes in his arms that you had rejected, furrowed his brows and looked you up and down. You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at the sight; he was taking his job as your stylist very seriously.

“You’ll almost fit in,” he said, “although, the shirt is too tight,” he finished bluntly, gesturing to your chest. You folded your arms instinctively.

“Don’t worry, I won’t look at your boobs.” You frowned at this. Was that meant to make you feel better? Why did you feel slightly disappointed?

“Um, thanks?” you scoffed. “What should I do with my hair?” you tugged on each of your French braids. Roger walked towards you without warning, and pulled out your hair ties, running his fingers through your hair.

“Just leave it loose.” He said hoarsely, his face dangerously close to yours. Your heart was beating rapidly, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was biting his lip in concentration, his eyes squinting as he adjusted your hair. It took everything in you to not lean into his touch; his fingers were so delicate. As he pushed a strand of hair out of your face, his eyes met yours.

“Perfect,” he almost whispered, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You knew you should pull away. You knew this would get way too complicated. Your rationality was telling you to snap out of it. But as his hands smoothly came to rest around your neck, bringing you closer, something else entirely was driving your actions.  Just as you began to lean in, he pulled away, clearing his throat loudly.

“Let me get you a coat,” he said, quickly rushing away from you. You bit your lip, cheeks flaming. You were humiliated. What were you thinking, trying to kiss him? He obviously wasn’t attracted to you; the weird, pathetic crazy time-traveller. You didn’t even belong here anyway, how could you possibly think he would want you? Your eyes began to well up, you just had to get out of there.

As you quickly began to gather your clothes and phone, furiously wiping the tears from your eyes, Roger returned with a fur coat in his arms.

“Here, this should fit – wait, what’s wrong?” he asked, realising your state.

“I’m just gonna go. I’m so sorry to have invaded your life like this, you shouldn’t have to deal with my weird ass problems. Thank you for everything. It was nice meeting you, I guess. I’ll never forget you,” you rambled, becoming increasingly embarrassed, trying to walk past him. He gently placed his hands on your upper arms, turning you to face him.

“Hey, hey, I don’t have to help you, okay? I want to. If you’ll let me.” he said, a surprisingly vulnerable look on his face.

“But, I’m burdening you too much! You can’t have me holding you back from living your normal life. You don’t want me clinging to your side like some kind of….” You paused, struggling to find the right words in your frazzled state. “Some kind of leech. I mean, I’m just annoying. For God’s sake, we have nothing in common! I’m technically young enough to be your daughter!”

Roger laughed softly. “Okay, first of all, you’re not a leech. And yes, it’s weird that you’re from the future, and I’ll probably never wrap my head around it, but so what? We shouldn’t get along, but we do.” You hoped he couldn’t notice your blush at this.

“And, lastly,” he said, a cheeky smirk on his face, “the thought of you being my daughter is gross, but me being your daddy on the other hand…”

“Oh my god, Roger! No!” you couldn’t help but laugh, as you rapidly shook your head. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not; you secretly hoped he wasn’t.

“So, do you still wanna come to rehearsal?” he asked, all joking aside.

You sighed, hoping you weren’t being a burden. “Okay, give me that then,” you grabbed the coat off him, pulling it on.

“Do I look normal?” you asked.

“No,” he smirked, and you raised your eyebrows at him. “In a good way, though. Come on,” he said, grabbing your hand. You tried to ignore the jolts of electricity you felt from this sweet gesture. You never thought simply holding hands with someone would give you so many butterflies.