#'and also you MUST do fifty of them because otherwise anyone who DOESN'T get one will Feel Slighted'

[blujayonthewing]

fucking stupid how much damage has been done by 'but why don't you ever do [thing] for ME 🥺' + 'this art you did is so good that you SHOULD be doing something More and Better and actually it's super disappointing that you're not' like I'm a grown ass adult woman now when will I stop being haunted by the fucking spectre of the guilt of things I Should Also Be Doing

[theimaginatrix27]

📓📓📓📓

Thank you, Acey dearest.

I saw that ask game last week and immediately thought of this particular AU, one I don't think I have the required talents in Sci-fi-writing to really do full justice. That doesn't mean I don't have enough ideas to play with it every-so-often, though. It's certainly the most complicated fic I'm probably never going to write. Unless you can convince me otherwise.

The idea began in 2009 or thereabouts, after I'd seen the finales of TNG, Deep Space 9 and Voyager within the same span of months. My brain was overwhelmed with feels and all the cogs were spinning wildly. I'd also been watching some Farscape, and thinking we needed more Australians in Star Trek.

And I came up with some! They've gone through a number of given names over the years, but they're twins from Australia whose parents were in Starfleet, and they're now in Starfleet. Irena's a newly-promoted Captain, and Natalie a newly-minted Commander. This is the most obvious sign of the disparity between their personalities—Irena plays by the rules (most of the time), takes her duties very seriously, is highly efficient, every ship she's served on has been happy to have her. Whereas Nat is more carefree, messes around on the holodeck, is the life of the party, and maybe not chasing promotions quite so hard.

Due to something too nebulous for me to put words to right now, they're estranged. They haven't served on the same ship since they were both Ensigns. Their father, Admiral Chambers, loves both his daughters and wants them to repair their relationship. So when Irena becomes Captain, he conspires to assign Natalie to be her First Officer. Which is the drama of the opening sequence as these sisters learn to reconnect.

Moving away from the twins for a bit, I must properly establish some stuff.

This story takes place a hundred-and-fifty or so years after Voyager ends. There have been a number of advancements, including, but not limited to, the portable replicator, holotransmitters used specifically to allow enemies to converse with one another while not being on the same ship (one ship has the physical individual and the other has a hologram that does exactly what the physical person is doing in the other linked room. It's also great for talking to friends when you'd rather not use the screen), and most recently, Galactic Warp. Federation engineers have been working on this for a long time, specifically so nobody ever gets stranded like Voyager did ever again. This kind of advancement takes time and loads of testing, though, and they only recently perfected it. Galactic Warp Drives have only been installed on a few ships as of the story's opening. One of these is Irena's. Her ship's name is the Infinite. It can cross the galaxy from edge to edge in about a month.

Another connection made to previous Trek series is the fleet of School Ships upon which a lot of children from all the species who are part of the Federation are educated, usually if their parents deem it appropriate for their child/ren to learn more about other races for whatever reason. In another time, this would be a sign of privilege, but this fleet was founded by Keiko O'Brien, and one of the fundamental ideas behind the organisation was that anyone could send their children to be taught there, provided there was sufficient space for them. They refurbished a lot of old ships that would otherwise have been decommissioned. The fleet remains within Federation space, avoids all the dangerous anomalies they can, and they get Starfleet protection if they need to pass through any dangerous sector. They are considered a great asset to Starfleet, and many children of Starfleet officers are taught on these ships.

I mention this because Irena and Natalie met the individual who would become Irena's partner while they were learning together on one of the School Ships. Her name is Viyadaaren, and she's a Changeling.

Viya, as her friends call her, was the first Changeling to be a student in this space school. I tried to be realistic about how bloody long the Founders would take to, ya'know, stop thinking of Solid races as less-than. They were set in their ways and their society had to undergo some fundamental changes after the Dominion War and that shit takes time. By the time Viya was allowed to leave the Gamma Quadrant, the Changeling race had established a truce. I have not thought too hard about this, as I was nineteen when I came up with the concept and the diplomatic relations required to get the results I wanted were beyond my ability to hash out, but I figured I gave them enough time to work out something so that the mistrust between what once was the Dominion and the Federation is at least minimal. But also, kids have parents and grandparents who have their prejudices.

Viya did not always have an easy time on the School Ship (haven't named it. Maybe if I ever write this, I will), but Irena and Natalie both made a point of befriending her, and when a particular bully whose name and race are as-yet undecided (I only know he isn't an obvious culprit like a Klingon) tried stirring Viya up with nasty comments and taunts and other provocations, Irena lost her cool, itself a rare thing, and punched the kid in the face. Natalie tried to take the rap for her but she insisted they'd take the situation more seriously if they knew she'd been the one to stand up for her friend. Irena got the equivalent of a detension. Unnamed Bully Kid got sent to another ship in the Fleet to learn how not to be a racist dickbag. Viya learned it was okay to stand up for herself and it wouldn't be taken as her starting problems with other races for political reasons, something the bullies had been holding over her head so she wouldn't defend herself or tell the staff what was going on. The remaining bullies learned not to fuck with Viya or the Chambers twins would come after them. It was a whole thing.

Also the twins later had a sleepover at Viya's that involved them camping out in a shuttle for a couple days, which none of them minded, and weirdly this single friendship brought about more productive discussions between the Former Dominion and the Federation than anything else they'd done up to that point, but I still don't know if I have the necessary knowledge to show that instead of telling it and to do so well.

Anyways, Irena and Viya are now going steady. I originally pared Irena with a Vulcan she served on another ship with named Ranek, but then I decided not to be a coward. xD

Sorry for bouncing between time periods like this. This is a long-form daydream fic, and I haven't even gotten to the meat of why it's stuck around in my brain.

See, Natalie and Irena have a strong love of music, specifically from the late 20th and early 21st century, and more specifically popular stuff from those eras. Nobody in Trek at that point knew most of my favourite music artists existed, because all those series were made in the 80s and 90s, and I didn't care how incongruous it would be to have these characters have that specific of an interest, let alone what comes next.

See, when Nat comes aboard the Infinite, one of her first questions is where the music room is. She has a plan for how to reconnect with her sister, and it involves starting a music group. They'll perform a wide variety of music from various cultures, but she wants at least a dozen performers who have the same interests as she does. And she finds them, because of course she does. This is my story and that's what I wanted, a bizarre fusion of Star Trek and Glee.

One of the first people she finds to join the group (which will eventually comprise half the thousand-person crew and entertain the other half with regular concerts, because again, of course they do), is the Ship's doctor, whose name is currently Asher Lang, though I'll probably change it for Star Trek Picard reasons.

Asher's background is tangled up with another idea I had, in which starting a few decades post-Occupation, teenage Bajorans and Cardassians started meeting up, falling in actual love, and having quite fulfilling relationships. (I'm an optimist, I needed some happy fluffies after the end of DS9, I regret none of this.) Many had disapproving families and would elope, Romeo-and-Juliet style, though without the part where they died at the end, because at nineteen I did not like angst much at all and even now I'd rather their stories end happily, because otherwise ma boy Asher wouldn't exist. His grandmother was Cardassian, his grandfather was Bajoran, and they had a daughter who married a human and had Asher, who was the eldest of five kids because I love big families.

The most important thing about Asher, aside from him being an absolute sweetheart, is that his singing is a thing of transcendent beauty. Natalie is wandering the ship, and enters a room (either Sickbay or somewhere random), and the moment the automatic doors swoosh open she is drawn in by the golden melodic tones of a man with his back to her, playing a guitar (because of course he does), and singing a rendition of The Script's Breakeven as if he intimately knew the heartbreak it described, while simultaneously melting the heart of his unseen audience with the loveliness of his voice. Natalie doesn't need to see his face. She already knows she's in love.

She can't resist complimenting him when he's finished, and he whirls around, and she gets a good look at him, and he has the Bajoran nose and unmistakable Cardassian features, but also big brown eyes, and she's still sure she's in love, and that makes her as flustered as he is, and she starts babbling about how hard it is to find someone who's into this specific era of Ancient Music, and he's clearly good at that guitar and "I'm starting a music group and anyone serving on this ship is invited, are you interested? Please say you're interested, your voice is incredible."

And poor Asher is kinda terrified because he is painfully shy and has never really sung in front of people who weren't his family or really close friends before, and he's nervous as hell, but this stranger is his superior officer and she did say he was good actually.

So long story short, there's a biiig audition process, loads of people on this ship (possibly thanks to Admiral Chambers) can either sing or play an instrument, about fifty are directly into late 20th-early-21st-century popular (and some more obscure) music, and others are interested in learning about it, and Irena gets involved 'cause she's a pianist as well as a singer and music brings the crew together in a beautiful way.

Yes, they perform other stuff aside from this specific era of Earth music, but I'm not exactly equipped to portray music from other Trekverse cultures. I know the music exists but not what it sounds like, and in the case of Klingon Opera, I'm not sure I want to hear it. But if this were a series, every couple episodes we'd have performances of specific pieces from the era of my expertise, though of course that would never happen, copyright laws suck and make everything boring.

Every now and then I hear a song and am like, "The Infinite Crew would sing that!" But I'm also usually thinking of Nat, Irena and Asher because I don't have names or personalities or racial/cultural backgrounds for anybody else aside from Viya. That's another reason I haven't done much with this.

The vague plans I had were that this series would be like the best of Trek. There would be adventures all over the galaxy (at one point I was thinking we could go between galaxies because I wasn't limited by costume designs, but I dunno how fast a ship would have to be to achieve that and this galaxy is big enough. And nobody even got really into the many sectors on either side of the space they traveled through!) Q gets involved at points. There are timey-wimey interactions with the casts of TNG, DS9 and Voyager (well, some of them, anyways). There's a secondary drama involving Irena's son, which I won't get into here because that does get a bit dark. There are new species of alien I came up with, one of whom communicates exclusively through wordless song (proto-singermages, except the singing is just their language).

I haven't written this for several reasons.

I'm not that great at writing Sci-fi. No, really. There's a reason the only Trek idea I had that I thought could go anywhere involves the Voyager cast getting stuck in their own DND campaign. Sci-fi gets technical in a way Fantasy doesn't and I don't know if I would be able to write it well enough to do this idea justice. Also I don't want to embarrass myself infront of a very intimidating fandom.

I literally don't know what many of the aliens look like. Mostly when I was watching Trek with people I didn't ask for descriptions because we were all into the contents of the episode we were watching. I cared more about the personalities of the characters than the features each species displayed. Yes, I can look this up on the wiki, and get some ideas from fanfics, but I still feel like I'm inadequately prepared to tackle a project like this. Also I still don't want to embarrass myself in front of a very intimidating fandom.

I haven't fleshed out enough secondary characters that would make the crew and the story feel fully realised. Sounds ironic given how big my casts of characters are in other stories, but I haven't put as much thought into this story as I have my more fantastical/fanficky ones. So I only have six or seven characters that I feel are fully-formed and the rest are interchangeable bits of scenery, and that's not fair to them or the story.

At least the twins aren't secretly superpowered Mary Sue aliens any more, I guess... Yeah that was a thing at one point. Remember, I was nineteen when this idea was first born. I've done a lot of growing since then. xD

[80s-roger]

Flirty & Insistent

Pairing: 70s!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

note: female reader's ethnicity will not affect the person who reads it. She's just greek and she already has a name but the POV will be in second person.

also, i won’t post smuts/series as often as i did until next month, due to uni’s exams period. but i’ll reblog and stuff, u kno. I’ll work in the meanwhile your requests xx love you all 

ps i worked hard on this one, i hope you like it as much as i did. feedback will be massively appreciated.

requested by anonymous:

"Plss write something smutty about roger being a massive flirt and being soo cheeky the reader(after trying acting indifferent and unimpressed) eventually gives in to the temptation of letting him have his way with her?? 💕💕 "

masterlist // dialogue prompts

summary: you left your country a decade ago to study in the UK and after graduating you established in Mallorca, Spain to work as a mixologist. That summer night, you're working for a party arranged by Queen's management to celebrate their "A Day At The Races" era success. The blonde drummer notices you fixing drinks with confidence and doesn't lose the chance to flirt with you. He's just trying too hard because you play it uninterested until he has his way with you.

word count: 3,933

warnings: surface sex, slow burn (becauase they were talking a lot before, idk if it really is a slow burn tho)

A huge party was taking place in Mallorca, with the famous rock band Queen being the main guests of the event. You were one of the bartenders so all you had to do that night was fixing drinks for every person until they'd be shitfaced. The preparations were ready: the event was hosted at the beachside, opposite the calm waves and the golden sand. The sunset was magical to stare at, ready to welcome the bright moon. You had a moment to appreciate it before guests would come at any moment. It was the only thing that reminded you of your ex without feeling angsty about it; you gotta admit you didn't break up with good terms. It was toxic, yet heartbreaking. You loved that man but he left after cheating on you. It's been half a year and you needed to give yourself a break from dating and making out regardless of how social your job is and how much flirt you've received.

The guests arrived, minute by minute they'd get from fifty to hundred. Many people were coming to your counter to order drinks and cocktails. Beautiful women and attractive men would try to flirt with you but turned them down politely saying while you're working you can't do otherwise so they respected it. All these people were actually invited by Queen, their management and the entire record company. They were all celebrating Queen's "A Day At The Races" success and certainly the band which were yet to be seen until midnight.

You were working your ass for a couple of hours now until the band showed up. You could tell by the huge welcoming. The applause, the cheers and definitely women cajoling over them. Here they were standing in the centre of attention, thanking everyone for supporting them and buying their records. Their music was playing at the stereo and you couldn't prevent yourself from jamming to their songs.

When their speech was over, everyone was free to do what they wanted so your bar counter was full again with people chatting and drinking. You saw the entire fucking band coming to your place, obviously for an order. You tried to stay calm because hands-off, you liked their music and fangirled a lot when you saw them live last year in London with your boyfriend.

"Hello beautiful, can I have some Moet & Chandon, please? I really need to celebrate!" Freddie spoke first, carrying a wide smile on his face.

"Sure." You kindly accepted his offer.

"I'd like the same with Freddie." Brian interrupted when you moved behind to grab the expensive bottle and open it.

"So do I." John added and you nodded to grab three glasses, for now.

"And you?" You turned your gaze to the blonde handsome drummer who was already checking you out, focusing especially on your face.

"What do you suggest?" He asked with his eyes being totally flirty.

"Ah, darling, just give us the bottle. Roger is kind of undecided when it comes to drinks." Freddie felt the weird vibe growing between Roger and you. John and Brian giggled, looking whether at Roger or you.

"Eh, our waiter will do it for you. Just sit at your table and he'll take care of you." You kindly warned and he laughed.

"Oh, alright then love. We'll wait for our bottle." He laughed and left with his bandmates, leaving Roger and you alone.

"So? What do you suggest?" Roger turned his gaze back at your eyes.

"What do you feel like drinking? Something sweet, strong, alcohol-free?" You asked trying to help him but he was certainly not trying to find what to drink. He was clearly trying to flirt with you.

"Something to keep me up all night, I guess. But don't make me feel dizzy." He put on a crooked smile and hell, he was attractive as fuck. He knew how to play.

"Right, how does a mojito sound?" You recommended.

"Sounds nice and local." He smiled and you turned around to grab the ingredients. "Are you local? 'Cause your accent doesn't sound British to me." He asked, trying to start a conversation.

"Eh no, I am from the Mediterranean area though." You laughed after turning again to him.

"Italian?" He guessed.

"Greek." You answered.

"Oh, I've been to Greece twice." He started.

"Really? When?" You turned your gaze surprised. You had no idea he has come to Greece for holidays.

"Two years ago I was with my ex-girlfriend, in Santorini. The sunset there is amazing. And the next year I went with John and Brian to Crete. We needed a dose of some Mycenaean civilisation. Thankfully we weren't noticed by fans or anyone else. We were clearly there for tourism." He explained. You were impressed he's seen your country, visited two of the many islands your country has.

"Well, we had some political issues when you guys came to Greece. We were recovering from the junta and had some important historical issues by the end of 1974 so I doubt they'd run behind you, no offence." You laughed while fixing his drink.

"Oh, that's bad. But I understand. How come you're here in Mallorca being a bartender?" He asked and leaned closer to you. There was a nice conversation going on.

"Before junta ruled my country, I was sent to England to study because my parents thought I would be privileged. Now you see me in Mallorca because I work here and besides, I wanted to live somewhere that reminds me of Greece. Studying abroad has the privilege of learning a new culture, a new way of life and so on. Which is so wrong for the locals back home." You explained and cut a slice of lemon before having it ready for him.

"Wait, by saying it's wrong, you mean that..." his brain stopped working for a second trying to understand what you meant.

"Patriarchy is the keyword. They want women to get married at 18 and start a family. But obviously, women have to stay home." You were triggered at your words and internally thanked your parents for giving you the chance to go abroad.

"Cheers to your parents then. I wouldn't get the chance to meet you tonight." He was impressed by your short storytime. "How do I say bottoms up in Greek?" He laughed after you placed him his drink.

"It's pronounced áspro páto." You smiled after saying a Greek word. It must have been a year since you last spoke Greek. You haven't visited Greece for a long time. You found yourself in Mallorca. It's spiritually free and not restricting.

"So, I haven't asked you yet. What's your name?" Roger asked after drinking. He made an oddly satisfying grimace which meant he liked your drink.

"Oh, it's Ellen." You answered. His gaze was literally focused on you the entire time. He wouldn't give up this easy.

"So Ellen, make yourself a drink. It's a treat for you." He offered and you kindly accepted. It's not bad, you've been offered many times. Besides, you needed a drink to stay energised.

"Thank you, Mr Taylor." You thanked him and then his smile vanished.

"If you want us to be in good terms, it's gonna be Roger." His hand was warning you.

"Thank you, Roger." You slightly smiled. "It's just that..." you stopped and checked around if your boss is nearby. "We are obliged to speak to our guests in plural." You whispered and he nodded. Possibly understood the situation.

"So what are you doing later?" He asked after swallowing a sip of his mojito.

"We're cleaning the mess and we're heading homes." You said after drinking a shot. A treated drink.

"I'm not talking about your colleagues. I'm talking about you." He was straightforward. He was so into you, it was obvious.

"Oh well, I'll clean up the mess and I'm heading home." You changed the point of view trying to cut off his flirty attitude.

"When's that time? Dawn?" He guessed.

"Probably at the morning. It's a Queen party, I doubt people will leave before the sun rises." You rolled your eyes sarcastically.

"So..." he started. "Have you been listening to our music?" He asked.

"Yes, since your first album. It was brilliant for a newly formed band." You said with a huge smile on your face and he appreciated it. He appreciated that you didn't fangirl in front of him, having that humble and uninterested attitude. He liked feeling like a predator trying to catch his bait.

"What's your favourite song of A Day At The Races?" He asked. He likes talking to people about his music.

"Definitely Somebody To Love." You affirmed, feeling passionate about your answer, that it seemed you could relate your existence to this song.

"Oh, it's a band's fave too. Well, you relate to this song, don't you?" He asked and his body was closer to yours. The counter was the only thing beside you.

"I guess I do." You looked down for a moment, thinking of your ex but his hand touched your jaw trying to lift you up. Your eyes were looking into his and this is how you noticed how blue they eventually are. An ocean.

"Is it about a guy? I'm sure he doesn't deserve you." He tried to cheer you up with his soft smile.

"It's not that. It's..." you sighed. "Well, this is getting too personal." You pulled back trying to stop the situation. But he wouldn't abandon his try.

"Do you have any specific lyric of the song you relate the most?" He asked.

"Yes, there is that one: I've spent all my years in believing you but I just can't get no relief, Lord." You kind of explained the situation within a couple of lyrics. "He cheated on me. He had the audacity of saying it to my face and left without looking back or apologising." You nearly tore but tried to keep it for yourself. This is getting too personal and you're opening your heart to a stranger that you feel comfortable with. Maybe because you've been listening to him and his bandmates for years and you've seen him live too.

"You know..." he looked down for a second trying to find the words. "At least he was honest. He could keep you for his entertainment if things didn't work with the girl he possibly slept with." He tried to wake you, but he was right.

"I don't even know how long he was cheating on me. However, I did notice a weird behaviour in the last couple of months we were together." You answered.

"Be happy that you're not with him anymore. He took your love for granted. This is not how it works." He said with his eyes still focused on yours.

"You know, we once saw you live. Last year." You tried to avoid talking about your ex the entire time.

"Oh! That's great! Did I look nice?" He joked and he gained a laugh from you. That made him feel nice.

"Definitely, you always look nice." You took a moment to check him out. And hell, he looks and smells so nice.

"I'm flattered." He smiled and you pulled back again to do your job. You could see your boss staring at you. That wasn't good.

"You better get going, my boss is supervising us." You said and he got the hint. You were as cold as you could be.

"Sure, will I see you later?" He asked and stood up from his chair, ready to leave.

"No. I'll be too tired by then." You answered and he was saddened by your reply. He thought he had you. His flirting wasn't sufficient. Which means he had to try again.

He left and walked to his bandmates, they were there talking about their success until Roger joined their conversation but it changed as soon as he sat on the sofa next to Brian.

"So, how did it go Rog?" Freddie asked and they were all ready to hear.

"She seems so uninterested and hard to get, I have to try again." He took out one of his cigarettes, ready to smoke and think.

"Ah, your type of girls Roger." Brian laughed. "You like feeling a hunter don't you?" He added.

"Of course I do. But she recently broke up and I reckon she's still into him. How do women's brains work anyway?" He asked, frustrated.

"Oh darling, I don't see her as stuck with her ex as you think she is. She's been avoiding your flirting because she works here." Freddie had a point and John nodded.

"Just wait for her shift to end and make a move. She noticed you were flirting with her." John suggested and they all agreed to it.

"It's gonna take hours. She said it's possible for the party to end after dawn. She also has to clean up with her colleagues." Roger explained and turned his gaze back to you. But you were already looking at him and when you noticed, you turned back to your counter.

"Fine, then do it now," Freddie advised and Roger looked at you considered. "Wait where's she going?" Freddie asked after noticing your figure leaving your position.

"James, would you mind taking my place for a moment? I really need to use the bathroom." You called for your colleague who politely came to your counter.

"Sure, go ahead. I'll be here as long as you need." He smiled and you left for the bathroom to take a very needed pee.

"Shall I go after her?" Roger asked.

"Fucking go!" Freddie pushed Roger to run after you no matter how awkward it would be.

You walked in the staff-only bathroom, rushing to the toilet. After drinking a few shots, you needed to pee like a champion. When you pushed the flusher you unlocked your door and the very first thing you saw, was Roger standing at the wall.

"What the hell are you doing here, get out!" You were shocked by his presence and he wouldn't move.

"This is the only chance I have with you right now. Your boss can't see us." He came closer to you.

"No, but he'll get suspicious!" You tried to pull back until you reached the counter. Now you were sandwiched between Roger and the counter. There was no space between you. His face was coming closer to yours.

"I locked the door in any case." His nose tickled yours and his hands placed you on top of the counter, sitting now and having his bulge, against your area. That feeling is the shit.

"I work here, I can't..." you tried to refuse but the feeling of getting fucked couldn't stop you.

"I can't be in this toilet too, but here I am." His lips touched yours with passion and lust. His arms wrapped your waist and lowered down to your arse, squeezing it gently and your hands moved to his neck and his cheeks, trying to hug most of it. You haven't gotten kissed nor fucked for a long time.

Living on the west side of Europe had given you many opportunities. The situation you're currently now couldn't even be referred to Greek religious people as a joke. They'd freak out and tell you crap like you ashamed your honour, your family and your future husband. Your parents were too open-minded to let you live in West Europe and live your life as you wanted to. You had sex with your boyfriend at nineteen, with no need to be your first wedding night, you wear shorts on summers because you feel like it and now you're having a one night stand with a rockstar of a band you like and it's never gonna be the same anymore. You played it hard-to-get because you felt it was wrong. But it wasn't. It's just one more experience to add to your diary.

"Are you sure you want to do this, here?" He stopped the kiss for a second, to ask for your approval.

"Yes, but let it be fast, or I'll be in trouble." You checked at the door. "Are you certain the door's locked?" You asked.

"Yes, I am. It's just that..." he stopped.

"What?" You were scared he regretted it and he'd leave you like the mess you already are.

"I want to get more of you, but in this counter, I don't have the chance. I'll cope with it." He unbuttoned your suit while your hands tried to unzip his jeans.

"If you stay a little longer in Mallorca, you can get more of me." You winked and he smiled, thinking he has more chances with you.

"Works for me." He whispered and turned to your lips again for a passionate kiss.

He helped you with taking your suit off, now staying on your bra when your hands put his jeans down. "Mind taking your bra off?" He asked while his mouth travelled your neck, giving it soft kisses.

"I'd rather wear it..." you refused taking it off after gaining a lot of insecurities because of your ex-boyfriend. You remember him saying how small your breasts are and with that, no other man can see it. Your A-cups haven't be seen by any other man. Not even by your ex after the second time, you had sex with him.

"As you wish..." he didn't insist and pulled your skirt up, on your waist, with his bulge rubbing against your core and turning you instantly wet. "How long has it been?" He asked after noticing the humidity between your legs with his hand.

"Must be eight months. I'm out of practice." You sighed.

"Don't feel bad about it, I'll do the work. You're already wet for me. I like it." He bit his lower lip and turned to your lips again, for a deep kiss. "God, you are fat-bottomed aren't you?" He smiled between the kiss after squeezing your thighs and your small waist. "I'm starting to have a thing for greek girls." He complimented your body type and that boosted your low confidence level. With a simple move, he placed you against the mirror, taking your thong off your left leg to have clear access inside your wet area. His hand pulled his erected penis out of his black underwear, ready to thrust inside you.

"You better start before I cum untouched." You exhaled and balanced yourself at the counter.

He smirked and trusted inside you, feeling him completely weird inside you, maybe because you haven't had sex for more than half a year. The sensation was amazing and penetration was always the thing that released you from thoughts. His hands squeezed your thighs and each thrust was a try to pull you closer to his pelvis. You couldn't stop breathing heavily. You had to be quiet and so did he. It was a staff-only bathroom and the key was turned horizontally so no-one could break in with a spare key.

"Oh god, this is amazing..." you moaned at every pleasuring wave while your hands played with his blonde hair.

"Fuck, yes, you're so tight and wet for me." He tightened his teeth as he exhaled into your ear.

His thrusts were giving you the orgasm you haven't had for a long time. It was the tension between you, that made it more passionate but fast enough to make you come earlier than you thought. Soft whimperings coming from your mouth sent him the message that you were close enough and so was he. You could tell by his sharp thrusts, getting smoother and sudden. His gaze was focused on your eyes. Your sight was getting blurry and your legs began to shake; it happens when you reach your orgasm and it feels terrific.

"Ah, God..." you moaned and tilted your head behind, where the mirror is. "That was so refreshing." You gasped after wearing your thong again.

"Ain't gonna lie, but this WC shag was the best I had." He laughed and wore his underwear and jeans again.

"I can't make comparisons to it, I've only had two boyfriends in my life and this is my first time fucking a stranger at my workplace's restroom." You buttoned your suit and stood up from the counter to fix yourself.

"Stranger?" He asked confused.

"Stranger, Roger. I mean, I do know you're a rockstar, a member of my favourite band and I've seen you live once but it won't change the fact you're a stranger. I know you as a persona, not as a person. You get it?" You tried to explain how it feels.

"Oh, I see." He nodded. "Will I see you again? I want to know you as a person if you want that too." He suggested.

"Sure." You kissed his cheek gently, letting him take the lead. You wanted him to make the move. "I'll just walk out from the WC first and make sure no one sees you when you get out." You said and walked through the door until someone tried to get in. A knock on the door was heard.

"Ellen, are you still in there?" It was James.

"Yes, I'm coming." You internally panicked and hinted at Roger to hide in the toilet. "Hey James, is everything alright?" You asked after opening the door.

"Yes, I wanted to check on you. You were absent for a quarter. Are you okay? You look like a mess." James liked you for a long period of time but he wasn't your type. He's way too cute for your standards.

"Yeah, I'm fine... I just felt a little dizzy and wanted to wash my face with cold water. I needed it." You lied after checking your face in the mirror. You were red as a tomato.

"Oh, fine then. You should get back to your post. The boss has been looking for you." He pointed outside and you felt really bad about it. Your boss suspects you since the moment you started chatting with the blonde man hiding in the toilet.

"Alright, I'll be back in a minute." You closed the door to his face and rushed to the toilet where Roger was hiding.

"You're a cute little liar, aren't you?" He teased and gave you a little slap on your butt cheek.

"I won't be anymore if my boss finds out." You rushed, trying to leave the toilet.

"How will I reach you?" He asked trying to learn your phone number.

"Just come at my post and I'll hand you a drink." You declared and left the room, heading fastly at your post. You stared at the Queen members, looking at you all smiles and winks. They probably knew what happened a quarter ago.

You fixed another drink for Roger, trying to look calm and relaxed. But you weren't. You were tense and it could be seen. Two minutes later, Roger came to your counter again with a crooked smile on his face, waiting for the drink. He was looking whether at his bandmates or you. There was absolute silence.

"Here's your drink." You smiled and handed his drink with a small paper around the glass. He carefully grabbed the paper so it couldn't be seen and walked away, heading to the balcony.

He grabbed the paper, unfolded it and there was your phone number and a note in it: "thanks for giving me a good time Rog"

He smirked at your note and placed it in his pocket, anticipating the moment he'd call you.