#jkfhudshdksd

[illfoandillfie]

No Particular Place To Go

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Summery: Roger takes you on a drive

Warnings: None really. Some swearing, some talk of sex but nothing explicit, driving without a seatbelt

Words: 1724

A/N: I didn't really plan to write this but I was sitting on a bus listening to my 50s playlist today when No Particular Place To Go by Chuck Berry came up on shuffle and it inspired me. Something short and cute to tide you over until I can finish one of the other things i'm working on. 

Also did you know seat belts weren't compulsory in the UK until like 1983!

Taglist:  @laedymoon  @dtfrogertaylor  @vee-ndetta​ @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac​ @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks​ @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​  @hannafuckingsucks​  @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @queenmylovely​ @supersonicfreddie​

You knew it was Roger’s car coming down the street the second you heard the growl of the engine. It didn’t have the low whine of the woman next door’s car or the sickly chug of the one from across the road that pissed Roger off every time he heard it. He strongly believed a car that nice should belong to someone who’d look after it properly and not the prick who had it. As if to prove that he made sure his own set of wheels was at its cleanest and smoothest running whenever he picked you up for a date. You weren’t sure if it was a pride thing or just a determination to be better than annoying assholes or if it was because he’d caught the guy checking you out one hot afternoon. Whatever the reason it kept things interesting. And stopped Roger from outright punching the guy. Plus it meant you could recognise Roger’s engine within seconds, having heard him purr his way to your door every time you had a date. Which is why you were already skipping down the front steps before he could step out of the car. “Hi love,” he grinned as he pulled you into a hug, “you ready to go?” “Yeah, where are you taking me?” “On a drive,” He shrugged as he pulled the front passenger door open for you, “nowhere particular. Just thought it might be a bit of fun, you and me and the open road.” “Sounds very romantic Rog.” “Damn fuckin’ right it will be.” You couldn’t help but laugh as he shut the door and made his way round to the driver’s seat. He looked bemused as he glanced over and saw you buckling your seatbelt. “You are the only person I’ve ever met who bothers with that thing.” “You say that like you meet hundreds of people every day when we both know that’s not true. Honestly, I can’t believe you don’t buckle up. The number of scrapes you’ve gotten into.” “Hey! It’s not that many,” he half laughed as he pulled out onto the road. “There was like three last week if I’m not mistaken – the pole you hit when you were reversing, that scratch you spent hours buffing out from that little red car you got too close t-” “Okay okay, point taken. But,” he glanced in the mirror as he pulled up at an intersection, “counter argument.” It was a good thing the road was quiet because Roger leaned in to kiss you softly, fingertips dancing over your jaw, making you entirely forget what your third example was. If you hadn’t been sat in the passenger seat of a running vehicle you would have been more than happy to let Roger keep kissing you. But, instead you whispered his name against his lips the first moment he pulled away long enough for you to get the word out. “Said you were gonna take me on a drive,” “Technically I did.” “Only three streets from home,” “Exactly, three whole streets. Haven’t gone too far to turn around yet,” “Rog, c’mon,” He sighed and leaned in for one final kiss before he faced forward again, looked right and left and then kept driving, “You sure you don’t wanna head home?” “Get me more than three streets away and you’ll get more than a kiss.”

The sun was beginning to set as you reached the highway. Roger had stolen a few more quick kisses at various red lights and stop signs, but for the most part he was well behaved. You fiddled with the radio as he drove, trying to find a decent station to listen to as you got further and further away from home, singing along to whatever songs you landed on between bursts of conversation. It was while you were singing along to an advertising jingle you’d heard a thousand times that you caught Roger looking at you. “What is it?” “Nothing. I love you,” “I love you too, Rog,” A giggle was pulled from you as Roger threw his arm around you and tugged you to lean against his side, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. It did absolutely nothing to stem the rising urge to kiss him again. But he was driving and, now that you were out of the backstreets, there were more cars around to be mindful of. So you leaned your head on Roger’s shoulder, fingers twitching in your lap with the desire to get closer, to hold him properly, no steering wheels or seat belts in the way. You tried to distract yourself from those thoughts by suggesting you play eye spy or something similar, but the game didn’t last long. The dying light made it harder and harder to see things clearly enough and, though you thought you were doing an admirable job of keeping yourself under wraps, Roger wasn’t doing so well. His breath was coming noticeably harder and seemed to catch in his throat whenever you leaned your head against his shoulder, his voice was rougher, and you could have sworn his pants were a bit tighter than they had been when he got into the car.

When you noticed the first stars appearing in the sky you spoke up, “should we pull over?” Roger nodded and jerked the car onto the grass on the side of the road. You hoped he hadn’t done something stupid and got the wheels stuck but the thought was driven from your mind when the noise of the engine died down. “Been wondering when you’d ask instead of making all those cute little needy sighing noises. And you’re nipples have been poking through your shirt for so long now it’s a miracle I stayed so focused on the road.” “Shut up and kiss me again,” Roger’s face broke into a grin as he did as you’d requested, clearly as eager to get his hands on you as you were to touch him. He twisted towards you more as his tongue ran over your bottom lip, one hand cupping your face. His other hand dropped down to your chest, pinching and squeezing over your shirt. Your arched into him as much as the seatbelt would allow, torn between grabbing him back and undoing the belt. Your nails scraped over the release button, bumping against Roger’s as you both fumbled with it. But neither of you managed to hit it properly, the belt staying tight. You let out a breathless chuckle that Roger happily swallowed as you moved your hand up to his jaw, letting him unbuckle you. He groaned softly when there was no pop and shifted in his seat. “Stupid fucking thing,” he mumbled against your lips as he tried a second time to release you. When he was met with the same problem he pulled away, focusing all his attention on the buckle. “Rog, what are you doing?” “It’s not….You try, I’m at a bad angle,” You rolled your eyes, “Y’know if you used yours more you’d know how to get them un- Fuck. It’s not working,” “What?” “Rog I’m stuck. Your piece of shit car has me trapped,” “Hey, she’s not that bad,” “Mmhmm, sure,” you tugged on the belt, the panic rising in your chest and not being able to get loose, “because everyone knows the good cars have these sorts of problems,” “Stop talking shit about the car, you’ve obviously buckled it wrong. Give me a second,” Roger said in response to your look, flinging his door open so he could run around to yours. He wrenched I open hard and bent over your lap to try and get a better look as he once more attempted pressing the button in. It didn’t budge. “Well?” you pulled on the belt again. “It’s gone all stiff, I need more leverage I think,” he half climbed into the car, only one leg remaining on the ground outside and tried to put more of his weight into it. You burst out laughing, unable to hold back at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Roger joined in, his face falling against your neck as he tried to collect himself. “Is there anyway you can just fuck me like this?” You asked, through the laughter, wiping tears from your eyes. “Don’t think so. Maybe I could get my finger’s in there?” A fresh burst of laughter took you both over, Roger stumbling backwards out of the car again.

When it finally passed the worry kicked back in, your chest tightening at the thought of never being free. It was the same feeling you got when your head got stuck in your shirt. “What are we going to do, Rog?” Roger looked you over, scratching his head, “I don’t know. Something.” “That’s not helpful. I’d really quite like to not be stuck like this for the rest of my life, thanks.” “We’ll get you out, just keep trying while we drive, okay? I’ve got some oil back at my place that might help,” Roger let out a breath and shook his head, “Can’t believe my piece of shit car fucking cockblocked us.” You giggled again as he got back into the drivers seat, shaking his head, “So you agree it’s a piece of shit,” “Uh, no, you don’t get to bash on my car, only I get to do that. And if you just didn’t bother with the belt like a regular fucking person. Or if you’d let me turn around before we got too far,” You poked your tongue out at Roger. It was quiet except for the radio and the engine as Roger turned the car around and headed back the way you’d come, he mood so different to when you’d pulled up. Your body still hummed with desire but it was more subdued now, though you were sure it would be back in full force the second you broke loose. “I promise I’ll get you out,” Roger said softly, glancing over at you, “even if I have to cut the belt in half.” “I know,” you tugged on it again, hoping that the movement of the car would loosen it somehow, “But can you also promise that if I manage to get it undone while we’re driving, you’ll pull over the first chance you get.”