#and more grey deacon for y’all

[capcollector]

i fell asleep and woke up to them appearing on my tablet

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Don’t You Hear My Call Though You’re Many Years Away - Chapter 14

Credit to the gif creator.

A/N: It’s a long one y’all! Angst and fluff.

Happy happy birthday to the handsome and extremely talented John Richard Deacon. You are greatly missed, but my only wish for you this and every year is happiness! Here’s to you and many, many more trips around the sun!

Slowly we made our way in. I drop the key and my purse on the dresser before turning to watch him shut the door. His shoulders were tense as he stepped further into the room.

“Before you begin, I just want to thank you for coming back” I said taking a deep breath, wrapping my arms around myself. My heart was pounding so loudly I’m sure he could hear it. Nerviness overwhelming me.

“I can’t deny what I feel for you, and I do have questions. Did you” he stammered “...did you really just come back...for the band?”

“Partly” I replied “mostly. I was also running away from a breakup.”

“So that was true? The breakup?” He asked.

“Yes” I said, leaning heavily against the dresser. “I expected you to doubt me and things I’ve told you, and I’ll tell you the truth about what I can, but I may not be able to answer every question.”

“Why?” He asked, leaning against the wall.

“Rules, there’s rules.” I said, my arms dropping weakly at my sides, as the weight of the lies still bared down on me before they were whisked away by the truth.

“Such as?” He asked, his brows peaking.

“Not telling anyone about being from the future, I broke that one. Not giving information about the future, I sort of broke that one. We’re not supposed to develop friendships or relationships, I absolutely broke that one. Not to talk about the machine, yet another one broken.” John spoke up then.

“Quite the rule breaker aren’t you?” He smirked briefly, before the pained expression returned to his handsome features.

“Not usually” I laughed humorlessly. “And to no matter what, always come back to our own time” I continued.

“Why, what would happen?” He asked, his brows furrowing, he began to fidget.

“I don’t know” I said honestly, “none of my friends have ever traveled to a time where they might be alive. So I don’t know what would happen. And I don’t exist in this decade or even the next. My parents are around 14 and 15 years old right now. Probably meeting for the first time.” The thought made me pause. I hadn’t considered where they would be.

“The idea of me doesn’t even exist right now” I continued.

“Why come back for so long?” He questioned.

“I wanted to...experience and explore...part of me hoped to tell you all I was a fan, but just in passing. I didn’t anticipate this” I answered, gesturing between myself and him.

John’s shoulders sagged as heavily as mine as he stepped towards the bed where he slumped down, putting his face in his hands.

“It’s so much to take in, and I have so many questions” he said, his words muffled.

I slowly knelt on the floor in front of him, placing one hand experimentally on his knee. I was relieved when he didn’t move away from my touch.

“I know, and unfortunately I can’t tell you much...but what if I tell you what I can?” I offered.

His hands slip from his face, “alright” he replied softly.

“To start, I’m not going to be a teacher, I am studying a form art, I won’t be teaching it though.” I began.

“Okay. Not painting then? You seemed to know so much about the art when we went to the museum” he interjected.

“No, I don’t paint and I’m not sure what I do will ever end up in a museum. But I still enjoy all art...especially when I get to experience it with you.” I said, placing my hand over his. He squeezed it briefly before standing again, to pace around. I stayed on the floor, following his movements with my eyes.

“And my Mom works at a bank, my brother, he manages an electronics store. My Dad does actually work for a telephone company, and he’s the reason I’m a fan. I grew up listening to the music of Queen, his favorite band and now mine” I admitted, allowing what truths I could tell him to surface.

“So we’ll have albums, or at least a song that makes it in America? This is a long term thing then? How long will we be together?” He asks.

I smile up at him sadly, “I can’t answer any of that.”

“Okay” he replied, his mouth set, unhappy about my none answer. There was a heavy pause before he spoke again.

“I hate lying” he stated, “I was angry with you when I left this morning. So angry. But, not so much anymore. I’m trying to understand.”

“It means so much to me that you’re here, you had every right to be angry. I’ve hated lying to you. Not just to you, but to Brian, Roger, Freddie...all of you. This hasn’t been easy. And I’m not saying that hearing any of this has been easy for you.” I rush my explanation “I’ve broken so many rules. I never expected any of this Deacy. I do want you to know though, I am so happy it’s all happened. I have tried to figure out how to tell you what a huge fan I am, but that has been eclipsed by how it feels to be friends with you. With all of you. I’m so happy to have met you, spent time with you...”

“But you’ll still leave me?” He asked, the pain obvious in his voice as he cut me off. He continued to pace.

“Only because I have to” I reply softly, “I’m an intruder, and I’ve involved myself too deeply in your life, I could be changing history...not only yours but the person you’re actually supposed to be with as well.”

“The person I’m supposed to be with?” He asked, stopping his movements to look at me.

“Yes” I replied “you’ve already met her.”

“Yes I have met her...because it’s you...I love you, you’re the person I want to be with.” He said, his arms falling to his sides as he stared at me, waiting for a response.

“W-what?” I stammer, just above a whisper. Freddie had been right.

“I love you, I came back because even though I was angry, I love you enough to come back, and get the full story. I love you, Y/N.” he repeated as my chest exploded. The bubbling I had felt inside wasn’t strictly due to my disliking the lies, but my feelings for John were completely surfacing. I loved him. My heart was screaming with joy as the words rang through my ears.

This was love, like one I’d never felt before. A whirlwind romance. Falling fast and hard.

“You don’t have to say it back...” he began, as I interrupted him.

“I love you too” I blurt out, “that’s why I couldn’t keep lying to you. I can’t promise to tell you everything, but I won’t lie, not again.”

“And now?” He asked, falling to his knees before me, tears filling his eyes “what am I to do? You’ll leave me for a place I can’t travel to! What am I supposed to do without you?”

“Enjoy the time we have left” I answer, tears welling in my own eyes.

“Can’t you stay...please?” He begged as tears trickled over, his grey green eyes pleading.

“Deacy,” I said, cupping his face in my hands “you have a life and a destiny, fate has already written it in stone, and I cannot stand in the way of that. I will not change that. No matter how much I love you.” My own tears were now falling freely. The words I hated to speak struggled to get past my lips. Wasn’t there an old saying about letting go of what you loved?

“I don’t even have a say in my own future?” He asks, almost bitterly. “You’re who I want to be with.”

“I wish it was me, I so desperately wish it was me” I reply, my voice cracking “but I’m not even supposed to be here. We’re not supposed to even know one another.”

“But we do” he whispered as he took my hands in his, staring at them as his tears fell, his shoulders shaking.

“I’ll make you a promise” I begin, knowing it wasn’t even a promise I was sure I could keep.

“Which is?” He asked softly, something sparked in his eyes as he looked back at me.

“I’ll see you again.” I whispers “I’ll do everything within my power to see you again.”

“When?” He asked, desperately. He searched my face, grasping to the sliver of hope.

I sat quietly thinking, when would be the best time to see him again. So much would happen. I went over what public details I knew, the ups and downs. Freddie’s passing, and finally John’s retirement.

“Y/N?” John spoke softly.

“1996” I replied. Deciding before his retirement.

“19-96...that’s 25 years from now, why so long?” He asks, his face falling.

“It’s the best time” I replied.

“Because you know what will happen in between” he said, his voice giving away his displeasure.

“Every life is full of ups and downs, yours will be no different.” I chose my words wisely “and I only know what was made public. You’ll have a private life I know nothing about.”

“There’s just so much I want to know.” he said, casting his eyes downward, looking at our clasped hands again.

I couldn’t imagine what he was feeling, here I was with a wealth of knowledge, sitting in front him, but it was all kept away from him. Just out of reach. Teasing and tempting. My knowledge, much like our relationship, should have been forbidden. It was too dangerous. But I’d already crossed so many lines, what was one more?

“Do you really want to know everything?” I asked, my tone neutral.

He quickly looked back at my face, waiting for me to take it back. But I did’t. I simply waited for his response.

“No” he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut.

Nodding, I smile at him, as I lean back against the side of the bed with a heavy sigh.

“What now?” He asked, looking towards me as if he was worried I’d disappear that instant.

“Now? Right this moment? I’d like to go to bed.” I reply, leaning my head back “I’m exhausted, I didn’t sleep last night and today has been...trying.”

John stood up, and held his hand out to me, helping me to my feet.

“Then let’s go to bed” he said, pulling me into an embrace, his forehead leaning against mine.

“You’re going to stay?” I asked hopefully.

“Yes. You’re one that will be leaving...not me” he said sadly. The words piercing my heart. They hurt.

“Deacy” I said gently, looking up at him “even when I’m forced to leave, I’ll never truly be gone. Do you know why?”

He shook his head slowly as his eyes continued to stare into mine, they were fill with love, sadness and curiosity.

“Because you now have a part of me, and that part of me will always be with you. My love will stay with you, and my heart will always hear your hearts call. No matter where I am or what time I’m in.” I poured my feelings into my words, speaking the complete truth. Tears stinging my eyes again as I mentally begged time to stop so I’d never be made to leave him.

“I love you” he breathed a moment before his lips touched mine.

***

The following morning, John was full of questions, not caring if I couldn’t answer them.

“What is the world like, in 2012 I mean?” He asked, laying back on the bed as I sat brushing my hair.

“Different. More connected, at least according to my parents.” I replied, how much could I get away with telling him?

“How so?” He inquired, cocking a brow at me.

“In ways...people are more connected across the globe. The world doesn’t seem as big. But that can make it a scarier place too” I said, setting my brush down, and turning to lay next to him.

“I wish I knew how to explain it, and what to say” I sighed.

“I know, you can’t tell me” he said softly, his hand reaching out to stroke my cheek.

“Here’s the thing, I do worry about changing your life, changing the future, but my friend Dustin doesn’t believe that butterfly effects can happen.” I began “In their trips to the past they’ve basically thrown boulders into the water and it hasn’t changed anything. I’m on the fence about it all. But there’s also the fact that, I can’t fully explain everything. The world has changed so much just in my lifetime, I can’t even begin to try and explain the changes it will make in yours.”

John stared at the ceiling for a moment before he spoke.

“What do you miss most?” He asked, turning to look me in the eyes, which causes my heart to flutter, not just because he was handsome, but because he was still here. He stayed, and he’s trying to accept who I am, and where I’m from.

And he loved me. I could see it in his eyes when he looked at me. He loved me. And I loved him.

“You mean aside from my family and friends?”

He nodded, a strand of hair slipping down around his neck, I couldn’t help myself as I reached for it, twisting it in and out of my fingers, causing a smile to spread across his lips.

“Well, I guess maybe my phone, I’m always on it” I began, my fingers lightly grazing his chin as I continue to twine his hair.

“Your what? Phone? There’s a phone right there.” He stated, hooking his thumb towards the corded rotary on the nightstand.

“It’s not exactly the same” I laughed. “One of those changes I was talking about it.”

He closed his eyes before speaking again “what will you miss here?”

I gently touched his cheek, gliding my fingers delicately across his skin, over his sideburns and into his hair.

“You” I whisper before kissing him. A tear slipped down my face, dropping on his cheek. He opened his eyes, smiling sadly at me.

“I could go with you, you know?” he ventured.

“You what?” I stammered, feeling a shiver run up my spine.

“I could go with you...” he repeated.

“Deacy” I sighed “your life here though...now...what’s to come...I, there’s so much! I would love for you to come with me. Let’s pretend for a minute that you’re willing to give up everything here, we don’t know what would happen if you were to go with me. You’re alive in 2012, it would be a risk...”

“One I would gladly take” he interrupted, his jaw set. He meant it.

“I’m not willing to risk you” I whispered, stroking the slight stubble on his cheek.

He placed his hand over mine, his expression becoming softer again “I know...it was just a thought.”

“It’s one I had myself” I consoled him.

“When?” I asked.

“The thought has popped into my head from time to time. I wondered how I could stay, how I could take you with me. I spent some time last night trying to figure out how...because the thought of not being with you...” I couldn’t bring myself to finish. Because nothing could describe the pain adequately.

“I know” he sighed before pulling me into a soft kiss.

“But you might grow tired of me before you leave” he quipped as I broke the kiss.

“Why would you say that?” I asked, my brows furrowing.

“Because I plan to be by your side the rest of your time here.” He said smiling.

“But you have things to do, like practice.” I laughed.

“I can’t bare the thought of not being with you every minute you have left here. I’ve already missed so much with you. You’ll just have to go to practice with me.” He replied.

“You know I wouldn’t miss it” I whispered, as a grin spread over his face, his eyes crinkling sweetly.

“But” I said, sitting up “speaking of practice, we better get going, Freddie came looking for you once, I doubt he’d like doing that again.”

I held my hand out to John as he stood, grasping it in his own.

@queensdivas @liliah39 @leah-halliwell92 @painkiller80 @painandpleasure86 @deakys-chesthair @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @heybuddy-drabbles @queenwouldyourathers @mirkwoodshewolf @ixchel-9275 @deakysmisfire @thosequeenboys s @tryin-her-best @deacyspatronusisacheesetoastie @johndeaconshands @apailana @cowparsleys @januarycolor @madamsixx @johndeaconstoothgap @mazzell-ro @brinteylovesaliens

[tryintheirbest]

Nice To See You Again

Pairing: John Deacon x Female!Reader

Warnings: swearing, smut(18+): oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, dom!Deaky, non-protected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all), daddy kink mentioned at the end

Word count: 8.7k

Summary: Reader is visiting Queen in London after being away for seven years. She realizes that her feelings for her best friend, John Deacon, hadn’t gone away like she thought. She started to notice little things Deaky does that could mean he has feelings for her too, or is it just her imagination?

A/N: I started writing this at like 1:30 in the morning, so there’s probably some spelling and grammar mistakes. This idea came to me out of nowhere and I just had to write it. I hope y’all enjoy. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated! Smut under the cut

You were nervous. You could tell that your hands were sweaty, so you kept rubbing them on your jeans. Just take a deep breath Y/n you kept telling yourself. You were sitting on a bench outside the Heathrow Airport, waiting. This was not an unusual situation to find yourself in. Having been born in America and deciding to go to college in London, you found yourself in many airports. You had been to the Heathrow Airport many times, going back home for vacations and coming back to London for school. But this time was different, for a couple reasons.

Firstly, you hadn’t been to London since you graduated from college 7 years ago. You had decided to go back home after graduating to get a job. You knew that you could have got work in London, but you wanted to be close to home after being away for so long. Now, 7 years later, you had saved enough money and accumulated enough vacation hours to spend the summer back in London. You were excited to be back, but also extremely nervous.

The second reason you were nervous to be back was who you had called to pick you up from the airport. While in college, you had become friends with a shy boy studying electronics. He was quiet, but very sweet when you got him to say more than three words. You and John Deacon became good friends very quickly and by your second year, the two of you were inseparable. John was three years older than you, so he had graduated a few years before you.

That didn’t end your friendship though. He would come over to your apartment almost every day to help you study for finals and just to spend time with you. One night, after staying up playing Uno with him and joking around all night, you realized that you had developed feelings for John Deacon. You decided not to tell him because you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him. It didn’t help that you and John were always spending time together and the both of you were not afraid to be physically affectionate with one another. The two of you were always holding hands, hugging, and cuddling, but you had always thought it was only platonic.

A call of your name snatched you from your thoughts. You stood up, eyes searching for who called you. Your eyes landed on a group of four men, all walking towards you. “Y/n?” one of the men, the one with sunglasses and a mustache, called again. This time, you waved one of your hands towards them. The man who had called out your name looked at you, smiled, and walked quickly over to you. As he reached you, he took off his sunglasses, and you noticed how warm his brown eyes were, making you feel at ease even though you you had only met him twice before. 

“Y/n, darling, it’s wonderful to see you!” Freddie Mercury, charming as always. He pulled you into a tight hug. It felt like you were hugging someone you’d known for your whole life, his embrace warm and comforting. “It’s nice to see you too, Freddie”, you replied, words muffled by his shoulder. He pulled away and held you at arms length, “Let me take a look at you, darling”. His eyes looked you up and down and you could feel yourself blush under his gaze. Freddie smiled at you, “Lovely as always, Y/n”. You returned the smile as Freddie dropped his arms. “You grew your hair out? Last time I saw you, your hair was not much longer than mine. Now look at it, past your shoulders.” Freddie ran his fingers through your curly hair.

“She’s just trying to look as good as me”, a voice from behind you said. Turning around, you were met with the towering form of Brian May. You laughed at his statement, getting on your tiptoes to pull him into a hug. “It’s good to see you Y/n. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” You nodded, pulling away from the embrace. “A bit too long, don’t you think, love?” You rolled your eyes before turning to face Roger Taylor. He just smirked at you, opening his arms and waiting for his hug from you. You rolled your eyes again, not stopping the smile that spread across your lips as you hugged him. You pulled away as Roger kissed your cheek, “You look good, love”. “Thank you, Rog. You don’t look too bad yourself” You replied with a smile, laughing when Roger pretended to be insulted by your comment.

Then, a voice from your right stopped your laughter, “Do I get a hug too?” You turned, your eyes meeting his grey ones. You could feel yourself grinning as you all but ran into his arms. “I missed you, John”. He hugged you tighter before releasing you. He smiled down at you, pushing some hair out of your face. “I missed you too, pretty girl.” You blushed, forgetting how much John liked calling you cute nicknames. It started as a joke, but became a habit for him, not that you were complaining. “I like the curls, they suit you” John said, playing with the end of your hair. You looked at his hair, taking it in for the first time. He no longer had a head of long, silky smooth hair. Instead, he had a poofy mass of curly hair. You giggled, “I could say the same about you, Deaky.” He chuckled at the nickname. Unlike him, you only had one nickname for John Deacon. He didn’t mind, he loved it.

Roger cleared his throat, making you tear your eyes away from the man in front of you. “As much as we love watching you too make heart eyes at each other, we really should get going.” You felt your cheeks heat up at Rogers comment, taking a step back from John out of habit. You felt his hand drop from your hair, shoving it in his pocket. Freddie slung his arm around your shoulders, leading you towards the parking lot. Thank God Freddie always knows how to save an awkward situation “Alright, love, we’re going to the studio to practice. Would you like to tag along?” Your eyes lit up as you eagerly nodded. This made Freddie let out a laugh, turning back to the other three, “Come on, we’re taking Y/n to the studio.” You turned around too, seeing John smile at you all made your way to their car. I haven’t seen they play since A Day At The Races, you thought to yourself. You were excited to see just how much their music had changed in the seven years you’d been away.

It didn’t take long for the five of you to arrive at the studio. The whole ride there, you had asked the boys about the albums they made when you were away and their tours. They were eager to tell you everything that had happened, not glossing over all the arguments that had happened. You laughed, shaking your head, knowing how wild it could get in the studio. When you got out of the car, Freddie was quick to put his arm back around your shoulders. This made you smile, but it faltered for a moment when you caught John looking a little disappointed that you didn’t walk in with him. You pushed that thought out of your mind, knowing it was just your imagination.

Freddie lead you into the studio, letting you take a seat on the couch. Brian took the chair by the sound board, Roger sprawled out on the armchair to your left, Freddie leaned against the door frame, and John took a seat next to you. You smiled at him as your hands brushed against one another. John turned his attention away from you as the others started discussing the plan for recording. You were only barely listening, focused on John’s face and his fingers rubbing across your knuckles absentmindedly. You studied his features, taking him in after not seeing him for seven years. His sharp jawline, his thin lips, the way his eyes eyes crinkled when he smiled, how soft his gaze was. Your eyes traveled down, noticing with wide eyes that he wasn’t the skinny boy you went to school with. His arms had more definition, as did his chest, which you could easily see under his tight shirt. Honestly, that shirt is like a second skin. How the hell does he even get that on? You thought to yourself. Your mind wandered on its own, leading you to have the thought I wonder how hard it would be to get that shirt off him. You felt your face heat up at the thought.

You thought you had gotten over your crush on your best friend. You hadn’t had a boyfriend since you moved back home, but you made yourself believe it was just because you hadn’t found anyone. Now you realized that it was because you didn’t want just anyone, you wanted John Deacon. You felt your heart sink when you realized that it would be just like before. You would keep your feelings to yourself while Deaky would still be his affectionate self. You moved your hand away from his and into your lap as you leaned back into the couch. This caused John to look over at you, “Are you alright?” he whispered. You nodded, looking up to see four pairs of eyes on you. You spoke up, “I’m fine, just tired from my flight”. Freddie looked at you with sympathy, “Why don’t you lie down and take a nap, darling. We can wait to start recording so we don’t disturb you.” You shook your head, “No, no, you need to record. Besides, I can sleep with a little noise. I’ll be fine, I promised” You gave them a small smile.

Brian stood up, moving to the recording booth door, “Alright, if you promised you’ll be fine, we should get started. Are we still starting with Rogers song?” Roger nodded, following Brian into the recording booth. Freddie was not far behind, leaving only you and John. John grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his mouth, leaving a kiss on your knuckles. He gave you a small smile as he reached behind him to grab you a blanket. You felt your eyes get heavy as he put the blanket around you. As he got up to join his bandmates, he said “Sleep well, sweet girl.” You felt a smile creep onto your lips as you let yourself be overcome by sleep.

You awoke about 15 minutes later to Freddie saying, “Alright, good. What song was next? John’s?” You sat up, stretching and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You were still tired, but hearing that they were going to be playing John’s song, you didn’t want to miss it. You watched as they all got ready to play. Roger did a count, and they they were playing. The song had barely started, but you already loved it. You felt yourself nodding along to the beat. You waited for Freddie to start singing, but you were taken by surprise when John leaned towards the microphone and began to sing.

“I want to break free I want to break free I want to break free from your lies You’re so self-satisfied, I don’t need you I’ve got to break free God knows, God knows I want to break free”

You were sitting, mouth open, as you took in the song. You had only heard John sing a handful of times, and they were all just under his breath. To actually hear him sing, and the fact that it was his song, took your breath away. Why doesn’t  he sing on the albums? You wondered to yourself as the song continued.

“But life still goes on I can’t get used to living without, living without Living without you by my side I don’t want to live alone, hey God knows, got to make it on my own So baby, can’t you see? I’ve got to break free”

You had your eyes closed, taking in the lyrics and the beat of the song. The song ended soon after. You heard the four of them walk back into the room you were in, trying to be quiet as not to wake you up. You heard John whisper, “I wish Y/n would have been awake. I wanted to hear the song.” Freddie quietly chuckled “Don’t worry John, she will. We’ll just have to play it again when she wakes up. Shame, that recording was perfect.” You opened your eyes to see them all crowded around the sound board. You cleared your throat, letting out a small giggle when all four of them whipped their heads around to look at you.

“No need to play it again, I was listening the whole time.” You saw Freddie glance over at John, smiling at his wide eyes. You stayed quiet for a moment before looking John in the eyes “Freddie’s right, it was perfect. You should sing more often Deaky.” You gave him a soft smile, seeing John’s face turn pink before he turned away. Freddie walked over and took a seat next to you as the other three began discussing the album quietly. “I keep telling him he should sing on the album, but he won’t budge, stubborn bastard.” Freddie said quietly, not wanting to draw attention to the two of you. You glanced over at John before nodding your head. “He’s always been stubborn. I just wish he knew how good he sounds when he sings.” Freddie agreed before your attention was directed back to the sound board.

“I think we should go through ‘I Want to Break Free’ again. This time with Freddie on vocals, alright?” John asked. Brian and Roger were already making their way back into the recording booth. Freddie nodded his head as he stood up, following his bandmates. They played the song again, being just as perfect as the last time. Well, almost just as perfect, you thought to yourself as the four of them returned to huddling around the sound board. You were lost in thoughts about John singing when you heard him say “Alright, I think that’s the version that should go on the album. What do you think?” The silence that followed his question brought you back to reality, realizing that it was you who he was asking. You cleared your throat, “Yeah, it was good. Really good, you guys.” A quiet chorus of “thank you” came from the band. You looked up and met Freddie’s eyes. You knew why he wasn’t arguing for John’s version on the album. John would never agree to that, you felt your face drop in sadness at the thought. You curled back into the couch, pulling the blanket up around your chin.

The boys didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in their conversation. Roger took a glance at you, seeing your demeanor had changed. He got up and made his way over to you, sitting next to you. “Everything alright, love?”, he asked, sympathy in his voice. You nodded, giving him a weak smile, “I’m fine, Rog, just tired still.” He nodded, a bit of his blond hair falling in his face, making you giggle. He pushed it back into place before placing his hand on your arm, pulling you into a side hug. “Try and get some more sleep. We’ll wake you up when we’re done for the day, alright?” You nodded, hugging him back.

It was rare that you got to see Roger like this, quiet and caring. “I didn’t know you could be such a softey, Rog.” You felt him laugh as he moved away from you, letting you lay down fully. Giving you a soft smile, he pushed some of your hair away from your face, ‘Only for you, love. Now, get some sleep.” He grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze before rejoining his bandmates in their conversation. As your eyes were closing, you swore you could see what could only be described as a glare on John’s face as he looked at Roger. You pushed the thought out of your mind, knowing it was only your imagination.

A few hours later, you awoke to someone shaking your arm. You let out a groan and a quiet “5 more minutes”. You heard a soft chuckle and Brian saying, “Come on Y/n, we’re done recording. Time to get up.” You opened your eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the light. Brian was kneeling on the floor next to the couch, hand on your arm as you fully woke up. You sat up, stretching your arms, causing Brian’s hand to fall to your leg. You gave him a smile as he patted your knee and stood up, reaching a hand out to you to help you do the same. “Where is everybody?” you asked as you stood up, grabbing your bag from beside the couch. “Already by the car. I told them to wait while I woke you up.” Brian held the door open for you as you both made your way outside and towards the car. Sure enough, the other three were standing by the car, Roger leaning up against the door, waiting. “That’s very sweet of you, Brian. Thanks for waking me up.” Brain just shot you a toothy grin as you joined Freddie, Roger, and John. Roger let out a small laugh, “I think you’re forgetting who told Brian to wake you up.” You rolled your eyes, “Of course, how silly of me to forget. Thank you, Roger Taylor, for telling Brian to do something you said you would do yourself.” He stuck his tongue out at you and flipped you off, you blowing him a kiss in return. This caused the rest of the group to laugh.

“Well, we should get going.” Brian said, opening the car door, “Ladies first”. You grinned at him, “How sweet. Thank you, Brian.” You put more emphasis on his name, looking at Roger with a teasing glint in your eyes as you said it. This caused the blond to roll his eyes, but not without a smile forming on his lips. As you sat down in the car, Brian coming in after you and taking the seat to your right, you saw John’s eyes dart between the two of you. There was something in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. Is John…jealous? You wondered. You shook your head. No, why would he be jealous. Must be my imagination again…right?

The boys started up their conversation again as soon as the car started moving. You weren’t really paying attention, focusing more on the scenery outside the windows. Even though it had been years since you’d been there last, it felt like nothing had changed. Well, except for the boys. And especially Deaky. You glanced to your left, seeing John deep in the conversation. Without much of a second thought, you leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder. You felt him let out a shaky breath, but kept going with whatever he had been saying. His hand found your instinctively, grabbing it and bring it along with his to rest in his lap. His thumb was tracing patterns into your palm, making you giggle at the feeling. You could tell he was smiling. You didn’t have to look at his face, you could hear it in his voice. You could feel your eyes closing, drifting back to sleep. You were only focused on your head on John’s shoulder and his hand in yours. I wish it could be like this all the time, you thought before you fell asleep. What you didn’t know was that, at that same moment, John was wishing for the same thing.

It wasn’t long before you woke up to John tapping on your leg, whispering that it was time to go. You blinked and looked around the car, realizing that you two were the only ones in it. “Where is everybody?” You asked with a yawn. “Home. Brian was just dropped off, Roger and Freddie were dropped off about 10 minutes ago.” He moved to open the door, stepping out and holding it open for you. “I’m sorry for falling asleep on your shoulder, Deaky. How long was I out?” John chuckled quietly, “Only 15 minutes. And you don’t need to apologize, pretty girl. I just hope I was comfortable.” This made you laugh, nodding your head. “Very comfortable, Deaky.” The two of you walked up to the door to his apartment. “I couldn’t get the pull-out bed to work, so I’ll be sleeping on the couch and you can have my bed.” John quickly said as the two of you walked into his living room. You turned to look at your best friend, a questioning look on your face. “What? Do I have something on my face?” He asked. You shook your head, letting out a breathy laugh, “No. I’m looking at you because you think you’re sleeping on the couch. Deaky, we can share the bed.” John’s gaze met yours, “I didn’t know if you’d want to. I know we used to all the time, but it’s been years and I just didn’t kn-” You held up your hand, stopping John mid sentence, “John Deacon, we are both going to sleep in your bed. Alright?” He nodded, wide-eyed. You lowered your hand, shoving it into the pocket of your coat. “Thank you though, for being courteous. I appreciate it Deaky.” He smiled at you before making his way towards his room, “Of course, love.”

You took off your coat, hanging it on the rack and placing your bag on the floor. You stretched, taking in John’s apartment. It was spacious, not much furniture. John, ever the minimalist you laughed to yourself. You saw that there was a bass by the armchair in the living room, a record player not far behind it. There was no coffee table, making you smile, Deaky did always like to have room to dance, you thought, remembering all the late nights you two would put on a record and dance. It would start out with one of his hands around your middle, the other holding your hand. As you two danced, the positions would change. By the end, your hands would always be around his neck and his would always be around your waist, hands resting just above your ass. He would have a tight grip on you, holding you close to him, as if he were afraid you would just leave. You were brought back to reality by a familiar feeling at the base of your stomach. Great, I’m getting turned on thinking about dancing with my best friend while standing in his living room, you walked down the hallway, to what you figured was John’s room. The door was open, so you walked in, not thinking anything of it. The sight you were greeted with almost made you let out a moan. 

John had his back facing to you, not having heard you walk up. He had a pair of gray sweats on, hanging low on his hips. You could feel your thighs squeezing together when he turned around. He was shirtless and you could clearly see how defined his muscles had become. You bit your lip, feeling your face heat up as his eyes met yours. He looked at you, eyes dark for a split second, before becoming questioning. “Everything alright?” You nodded, afraid that if you opened your mouth, a moan would slip out. John reached for a shirt, slinging it over his shoulder before walking out of your room. “I’ll leave you to get changed then.” he said lowly, his tone going straight to your core. You hurriedly shut the door to his room.

“Holy shit”, you whispered to yourself. You looked around, realizing that you had left your bag out in the living room. You silently cursed yourself before looking for something of John’s to wear. You found a plain black t-shirt that looked like it would be too big even for John. Perfect, you thought. You started undressing, taking off your button up, then your socks and shoes, and finally your jeans. You decided to take your bra off too, wanting to be comfortable. You could feel that your panties had accumulated a wet spot, cursing yourself again as you didn’t have a pair to change into. You put on John’s shirt, smiling at how big it was on you. It landed just below your ass, not really hiding the fact that you weren’t wearing any bottoms. I’m going to go out there and grab my bag so I can finish changing, you thought to yourself as you walked back out into the hallway.

You could see your bag leaning against the wall by the door. You didn’t see John, so you hoped you could grab your bag quick. You were almost there when you heard from behind you, “I got a movie started for us. Do you want some popc-” It was the second time that night John had been interrupted by you. This time, you had not meant to do it. You turned when you heard John abruptly stop talking. You took in a sharp breath, noticing that he had forgone putting on the shirt he grabbed. You could feel some of your wetness start to slide down your thighs, so you crossed your legs, trying not to make it noticeable. “I-I’m sorry. I forgot my bag out here and figured I could borrow your shirt for tonight.” You were looking down at your hands, not wanting to look your best friend in the eye. How can I look him in the eye when I’m literally dripping because he’s shirtless? You scolded yourself. John shook his head, “No, It’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting you to walk out here with no pants on.” You let out a small laugh, trying to get rid of the awkwardness. “Yeah, sorry about that.” You finally looked up and met his eyes, but they weren’t their usual gray color. They were almost fully black, like his pupils had taken over.

“I’m never said I’m complaining, pretty girl.” he smirked. You took in another sharp breath, the nickname that was always cute and sweet suddenly taking on a different, more suggestive meaning. You ducked your head, not wanting him to see how red your face was. Making your way over to the couch, you sat with your back to John “Popcorn sounds great, Deaky.” There was no response, just footsteps walking toward you. A large bowl of popcorn was placed on the couch in front of you. “Good. I wouldn’t want all this to go to waste.” You laughed as you grabbed a handful and started eating. Deaky grabbed the bowl, placing it in his lap as he sat where he had put it. He glanced down, noticing that your legs were curled up. “Would you like to stretch those out, pretty girl?” You nodded, giving him a thankful smile when he moved the bowl once more. You let out a sigh as you rested your legs across John’s lap.

He started the movie, but you were not at all paying attention to it. About 5 minutes in, John had begun rubbing your ankle with his thumb. You had dismissed it until his hand started moving farther up your leg. It was now resting just above your knee, still rubbing your skin with his thumb. It was taking all your effort to not squirm or make any sounds. He probably just thinks this is an innocent gesture, but he has no idea what it’s doing to me, you bit your lip as he moved his hand up a little farther, fingers now playing with the edge of his shirt. He glanced over at you, smirk on his lips, “Everything alright, sweet girl. You seem a little…distracted.” Your eyes widened at his statement. The bastard has been doing this on purpose you thought in disbelief.

You grabbed his hand before it could move up any farther. This caused John to look at you and try to pull his hand back. You tightened your grip, not letting his hand move from out of your grasp. “I’m sorry Y/n. I don’t know what I was thinking. Do you want me to stop? I’ll stop if you want me to.” John started rambling, eyes going wide. You shook your head. “I don’t want you to stop, John.” He look at you, confused “They why did you move my hand away?” You took a deep breath, “Because I don’t want this to just be a one time hookup thing, John. I don’t want this to just be because I came out here with no pants on.” He looked at you, still confused. “What do you mean?”

You scoffed, “You have never acted like this around me before, John. Why now? Is it only because I walked out here looking like this?” John opened his mouth, like he was going to say something, but closed it again. He leaned his head back and took a shaky breath. “The reason I’m acting like this now is because I was finally confident enough to. I have wanted to do this for so long, Y/n, since we met in college. I just never felt like it was the right time or like I was good enough for you.” You started to say something, but John continued, “I’m not doing this just because of what you’re wearing. I’ve always thought you looked beautiful and I would have done this sooner, but I was always too nervous. I thought that you would reject me or that you wouldn’t love me back…”

John stopped himself, mouth closing, eyes going wide as he looked over at you. You were holding your breath, not believing what you just heard. “You-you love me?” you asked quietly. John slowly nodded his head, “I do. Not just platonic love, Y/n. I’m in love with you.” You let out the breath you’d been holding. I can’t believe it. John Deacon loves me back you almost started crying at the thought. John was looking at you, waiting for you to say something. You could see sadness creeping into his gaze as you sat there in silence. But you couldn’t find the words to say. So you didn’t say anything. You just leaned over and kissed him.

You felt John tense for a moment before melting into the kiss. His lips were soft and sweet against yours. You pulled away after a few seconds, leaning your forehead against his. “I’m in love with you too, Deaky.” You felt him let out what almost sounded like a sob. His arms wrapped around you pulling you closer to him as he buried his head into your neck. “I was so worried you wouldn’t feel the same.” he whispered. You ran your fingers through his curls, wincing at the uncomfortable position you were in. You pushed yourself out of his grasp slightly, making him look back at you with those wide eyes. You let out a small laugh “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just getting more comfortable.” He smiled at that, dropping his arms to let you move more freely “Good. Because right here is where I want you.”

You giggled, “Who knew you were so cheesy?” He laughed, sitting up more against the back of the couch, “I’ve always been cheesy. Now, I can just be even more cheesy since your my…” he trailed off, realizing that he didn’t know what you were now. You sat up on your legs before throwing one over John’s hips, straddling him. “Girlfriend, Deaky. I’m your girlfriend.” You swore he was about to cry as he pulled you into another hug, this time with your head nestling into his neck. Your arms slipped around his neck as his fell down to your waist, bringing back the memories of the two of you dancing together. That reminded you of just how turned on you were before. You shifted in John’s lap, making him tense under you. You looked up at him and muttered a quiet “sorry, Deaky”. His hands moved to your hips and gave them a squeeze. “There’s no need to apologize. Besides, I’m not complaining.” You sat up and met his gaze, seeing that dark look from earlier return to his eyes.

You smirked at him before pulling him into another kiss, this one more hungry than the last. You shifted your hips again, making John let out a quiet groan. You giggled in to the kiss, feeling his hands tighten on your hips. You felt him smirk, and move his hands down to your ass, giving it a squeeze. This make you gasp and John took this opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth. You let out a small moan when his hands, still on your ass, began to help you grind onto him. You pressed your hips down onto him, causing him to groan loudly. You felt one of his hands move away from your ass only to come back down, hard. You involuntarily let out a loud moan, covering your mouth with embarrassment.

“Oh, you like being spanked baby girl? I’ll have to remember that” he said with a wink. You could feel that your wetness had soaked through your panties, and you knew that John could feel it too. As if he could read your mind, he reached his hand down between your legs and just pressed two fingers against your core. “Who made you this wet, pretty girl?” he whispered as he began leaving kissing and little bites down your neck. You were already a mess, not being able to form a sentence. He moved his finger away, making you let out a whine. “I asked you a question, baby. Use your words. Who made this little pussy soaked?” You gasped at his words, never expecting John to be into dirty talk. “You did, John. It’s all for you”. He moved his fingers back, rubbing along your clothed slit, “Good girl.”

Your hips bucked into his touch, making John let out a low chuckle. “Eager, are we?” he asked, moving his hand away again. You whined, hips following his hand, desperate for any kind of friction. His hand came down on your ass again, forcing a whimper out of you. “Be patient, baby girl.” he said sternly. All you could do is nod is response. His hands gripped right underneath your ass as he stood up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, leaving kisses along his collarbone as he carried you to his room.

He stopped right before his bed, causing you to look at him, silently asking why. He gave you a small smile before kissing your lips softly. You could swear that your heart melted with how much love he poured into that small kiss. He laid you down on his bed, standing up to look at you with that soft gaze you’d known for years. His eyes roamed down, taking in his shirt had ridden up, giving him full view of your gray panties, wet spot more than visible on them now. When his eyes moved back up to meet yours, you were met with a gaze that was quite new to you: a gaze full of lust, love, and hunger.

He crawled over top of you, one hand on your hip, the other in your hair. He was slowly kissing down your neck, making you squirm. You wanted more. I need more, you thought to yourself as he lightly bit over your pulse. “Tell me what you want, sweet girl” he whispered as his lips ghosted over your collarbone. I never knew John was this dominant you thought, a smirk forming on your lips. You were going to test just how dominant he could be. “I want you to hurry up and get on with it Deaky” you said, surprised that your voice wasn’t too shaky.

You felt his grip tighten in your hair, pulling your head back as he growled into your neck. He raised his head, and moved so his mouth was right next to your ear. “You wanna say that again, sweetheart?” You shook your head, eyes going wide at how his voice seemed to have lowered an octave. “Now, you’re going to be a good girl for me, right princess?” You moaned at the pet name, thighs clenching together unconsciously. John let out another growl as the hand that was on your hip gripped your thigh and spread your legs. “I said that you’re going to be a good girl for me, understand?” You nodded quickly, realizing that you really liked dominant John.

He lightly pushed his hips into yours, pulling a low groan from your throat. “I asked you a question, princess”. Realizing what he wanted, you were quick to answer “I’ll be good, I promised.” “Good girl” he whispered, nibbling on your earlobe before kissing down to where he left off on your collarbone. He reached the hem of his shirt and let out a growl. “This has got to go. Want to see all of you, baby” You sat up, grabbing the hem of the shirt and pulling it over your head. You threw it blindly onto the floor, laying back down onto the bed and looking up at John with with feigned innocence.

He let out a moan as he took you in. “Look at my pretty girl, all laid out for me.” You whimpered at his words, feeling yourself grow somehow wetter. His eyes shifted down to where you were rubbing your thighs together, trying to get some friction. He put both of his hands on your hips, stilling your movements. “Do you want me to help you with that, baby girl?” You nodded before remembering that he wanted you to speak up “Yes please” His fingers slipped under the waistband of your panties, teasing your skin. “Beg for me.” You felt your eyes widen, meeting John’s as he looked at you expectantly.

“Please John. I need you to touch me. Please, I need it so bad. I’ve been so good for you. Please, please, please, Deaky.” His eyes softened for a moment at the nickname before he slipped back into his dominant demeanor. “You sound so pretty when you beg.” He pulled your panties down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder. You closed your legs instinctively, suddenly becoming a bit self-conscious. He placed a kiss on your knee, “Come on baby, open up for me. Let me see that pretty pussy.” You let out a moan at his words, letting your legs fall open and rest on either side of John. “Such a pretty pussy for a pretty girl.” He licked his lips, shifting so he was lying between your legs.

This caused your heart to race. It had been ages since anyone had gone down on you, so you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long. John took his thumb and pressed it gently against your clit. Your hips bucked, whimpering at the tiniest bit of friction he was giving you. He looked up at you, “Remember what I said about patience, baby”. You nodded, making sure you didn’t move your hips as he began lightly circling your clit. You let out a strangled moan as one of his fingers suddenly pushed inside you.

“Fuck, princess, you’re absolutely soaked.” John moaned as began pumping his finger slowly. You let out a whimper every time he pushed it in, feeling how deep it was. You laid your head back, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of having one of John’s long, calloused fingers inside your pussy. Your eyes suddenly shot open when you felt his tongue lightly lick your clit. He let out a chuckle as your head shot up when he did it again. “Oh, do you like that baby? Do you want me to lick your soaked pussy?” You whimpered, “Fuck, yes please”.

That was all it took before John had his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking on it and flicking it with his tongue. You were a moaning mess already and he had only just started. When did he become so good with his mouth? You wondered as a rough flick of his tongue made you see stars. You let out a small whine when he took his finger out of you, moving his hands to grip your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

You almost screamed when you felt John’s tongue slide into your pussy. Your hands shot to his hair, pulling slightly. He groaned as he continued to fuck you with his tongue. He pulled away slightly, “God I was right to call you sweet girl” He moved back to licking and sucking your clit. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. “John, please let me cum. Please, please can I cum?” He let out a moan, sending vibrations straight to your clit. “Fuck, princess. Cum for me. Cum all over my tongue.” He pushed his tongue back into your pussy, groaning as he felt your walls tighten. You were moaning his name over and over again, pulling at his hair. He licked up all your juices, helping you ride out your orgasm and cleaning you up. You slumped back against the bed, catching your breath. You reached down and pulled John up, pushing your lips against his. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, causing him to grind into your hip. You continued kissing him as your hands snaked down to untie his sweats. You pushed a hand inside, grasping him. He let out a gasp as you started slowly stroking him.

“Fuck. I need to be inside you, baby girl.” You nodded as you pushed his sweats down, eyes going wide when you saw how big he was. I know I was just touching him, but god damn he’s big you thought to yourself as he began stroking himself. “Like what you see, baby?” he asked when he noticed you were staring. Your mouth began to water as you nodded. You moved to sit on your knees, making John let out a small laugh. “As much as I would like to get in that pretty mouth, I might die if I don’t fuck you right now.” You laughed, causing John to smile before joining you with his own laugh.

This was just like old times. Sitting on John’s bed laughing about anything and everything. Except those times, you both weren’t naked. You laid back down, pulling John down with you. He started rubbing himself against your clit, making you both gasp. He looked at you for, waiting for permission. You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his head down so you could whisper in his ear. “Come on, Deaky, fuck me with that big cock of yours.” The only warning he gave you was a growl before he slammed inside you. You let out a loud moan, nails running down his back. “You want me to fuck you, princess?” He was thrusting, going slow, but pushing his cock deep inside you. You decided to test the waters a bit more. You bit your lip, looking up at John with big, innocent eyes. “I want you to fuck me like the little slut I am.”

John’s eyes went wide at your bluntness, letting out a deep moan. His hands found their positions from earlier, one on your hip, the other in your hair. He pulled out of you almost all the way before slamming back into you. You opened your mouth in a silent scream. He kept pounding into you at a relentless pace. He growled as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, making you scream at the new angle. “Fuck, John, right there, don’t stop please.” You were only able to say a few words in between your moans. John’s mouth was right next to your ear, whispering to you. “Yeah, right there? You like how my cock feels inside your tight little pussy, stretching you?” All you could do was nod, no longer able to form words.

You could feel your second orgasm approaching. The hand John had in your hair moved down to your throat, resting it there. You put your hand over his, urging him to squeeze tighter. “Oh, you like being choked? Such a dirty girl.” You could feel your pussy begin to tighten around John. “Are you gonna cum again for me, princess? Gonna cum all over my cock?” You let out a loud moan as your legs began to shake. “That’s right, cum for me pretty girl.” Your eyes rolled back into your head as your second orgasm washed over you. You could hear John groan above you, his thrusts getting sloppy as he neared his own orgasm. “Fuck, you’re so tight. ‘m not gonna last much longer, baby. Where do want it?” He looked at you, needing an answer soon. “Inside me” you replied, voice completely fucked out. John let out a moan, burying his face in your neck. You tugged at his hair, “Come on, baby, cum for me. Fill me up.” He moaned again, higher pitched than the others as you felt him cum inside you.

He slowly pulled out of you when he was finished, flopping down beside you. You were both breathing heavy, covered in a light sheen of sweat. His hair was messed up from you pulling it and you didn’t imagine your’s looked any better. John got up, walking to the bathroom and emerging with a wet rag to clean you up. He was gentle, knowing how sensitive you were. When he was done, he put the rag in the laundry basket. He laid back down beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. He kissed your forehead, making you smile.

“Wow” was all you could say. He giggled, “Wow indeed”. You realized that your soft John was back as you both laughed. He moved his hand under your chin, tilting your head up. Your eyes met his as he whispered “I love you Y/n” He pulled you into a kiss, smiling when you mumbled “I love you too John” against his lips.

You awoke to the sound of people talking. You opened your eyes slowly as the memories from last night came back to you. You grinned to yourself, finally having it sink it that John Deacon, your best friend, was now also your boyfriend. You got up, grabbing the shirt you were wearing last night and a new pair of panties from your bag, which John must have put in his room when you were sleeping. You also decided to grab a pair of shorts, remembering that there were multiple voices coming from the living room.

You walked out of the hallway, identifying the voices as coming from Freddie, Brian, Roger, and, of course, John. “Ah, look who it is. Sleeping beauty decided to get up”. You flipped Roger off for the comment, going to the kitchen to make some coffee. You noticed John was already there, wearing the same sweats as the night before and a plain white t-shirt. He handed you a mug with coffee inside, made just the way you like it. You took a sip, humming happily at the taste.

John leaned down, kissing your cheek and whispering, “I hope you’re not mad, but I already told them.” You looked up at him, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’m not mad, Deaky. Just not ready for the comments from Roger.” you whispered back, drawing a laugh from the man in front of you. You heard someone clear their throat, making you turn to face the other three men. Brian had a small smile on his face, Freddie was grinning, and Roger had his lips in a smirk. You stood there awkwardly, waiting for someone to break the silence.

Freddie stood up from where he was sitting on the couch and made his way over to you and John. He pulled the both of you into a tight hug. “It’s about damn time. I’ve been waiting for you two to get together forever” You give Freddie a smile as you return the hug. “I’m happy for the both of you. I can tell you’re really happy together” Brian said, moving to lean against the kitchen counter. You gave him a quiet “thank you” and a small smile, which he returned. You turned to Roger, waiting for him to say something. “Alright, out with it Rog. Whatever it is you want to say, just say it.” You crossed your arms over your chest as Roger spoke. “Did you two shag last night?” This caused the other three men to groan. “Really, Roger, that’s the first thing you say?” Brian asked, rolling his eyes. “What, it’s an honest question.” Roger defended himself. You shook your head, looking back at John, who was already smiling down at you. “Yeah, we did. And it was fucking incredible, no pun intended.” John suddenly said, causing you to blush. Roger nodded, a satisfied look on his face. Everyone moved to sit in the living room. John sat in the armchair, pulling you to sit on his lap. He pecked your cheek as his arms settled around your waist. You began playing with his fingers, not paying attention to the conversation around you.

You were suddenly drawn from your thoughts by Roger asking “So a girl I was with called me ‘daddy’ in bed the other night…” Your head shot up as Brian and Freddie told Roger not to talk about his sex life. “Shut up! I wanted to ask if you all thought it’s weird. Because honestly, it was kind of hot.” Brian groaned loudly as Freddie started laughing. You and John remained silent as Freddie and Brian said that it wasn’t something that they were in to. The three men on the couch looked to you and John expectantly. John was silent, tense underneath you. You cleared your throat, “Um…I don’t think it’s weird.” Roger’s mouth formed into a wide grin. “Looks like we found something Y/n likes.” he teased as you felt your face heat up. Why did I have to say something? Now John’s gonna think I’m weird you scolded yourself.

The conversation shifted to when the band was going to record next. Before long, the three men were getting up and saying their goodbyes. You walked them to the door, giving each a hug goodbye, and pushing Roger lightly when he winked at you. “It was nice to see you again, Y/n” Freddie said as he gave you another quick hug. As soon as you closed the door behind them, you leaned your forehead against it. You took a deep breath, turning around to find John standing behind you.

“Deaky, I’m sorry if I weirded you out, I shouldn’t hav-” “Did you mean it?” he interrupted you. You gave him a questioning look, not understanding what his question meant. He took a step closer to you, “Did you mean it when you said it wasn’t weird?” Your eyes went wide when you realized what he was talking about. You nodded slowly, seeing that dark look return to John’s eyes. He closed the gap between you, kissing you with such force it nearly knocked the wind out of you. He pulled away, gasping for breath. He squatted down slightly, hooking his arms around your thighs and picking you up. You were both headed back to John’s room, you smirking against his neck. You knew you had a wild day ahead of you. And you hoped there would be many, many more to come.

[ai-suru-hito-yo]

Waiting For Someone To Release Me (Pt 1.)

Pairing: one-sided Roger x Reader, John x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You met the boys of Queen while working at a pub during one of their gigs. You didn’t expect them all to be so ridiculously talented and attractive (of course that could simply be the fact you hadn’t seen any action in months talking) and you especially didn’t expect them to become a constant part of your life in any way.

Warnings: none really, alcohol (this part takes place in a pub), terrible summary, tags will change as the story progresses

A/N: I started writing this as part of @rogerina-deacon‘s 1k challenge, and y’all, she got away from me. I’m gonna have to post it in at least four parts, the second of which I should have up tomorrow (Saturday). Based on Christina Aguilera’s “Genie In A Bottle”, which is also where the title comes from. This first part is a little shorter, and is mostly just setting the scene. All mistakes are mine. Also, to all you Roger stans, I’m sorry. It gets better, and then it doesn’t. Fair warning, I’m gonna hurt him.

Part 2

———————————————————————————————————–

You were working to put yourself through college when you met the boys, a master at the oh so coveted position of server at an absolute dive of a pub, though you did have to admit the music scene there was great. The manager somehow had a knack for scheduling the best bands, though he himself had no music ability whatsoever, and this night was no exception.

There were two college bands lined up back-to-back, and since he claimed you had the most experience and were the most professional, your manager had insisted you help personally take care of the bands. Two others were chosen to help you with the task, and the three of you would spend the night being exclusive servers to the musicians.

The job could either be wonderful or terrible depending on the night and on the talent booked.

Your two helpers for the night, Colin and Rachel, had taken on the task of serving the larger, seven person group and left you with the smaller group, four lads who called themselves Queen.

You took a deep breath and braced yourself for the worst before making your way to the partially hidden booth at the back where Queen had set up camp for the evening.

“Hello, gents,” you called as you stepped up to the table. “My name is (Y/N) and I’ll be looking after you four exclusively tonight. If you need anything at all or have any questions or concerns, I’m your girl. Now to start, could I get you all some drinks, perhaps?”

The raven haired one to your immediate right spoke up first.

“Oh, perfect, darling. We’ll surely have a wonderful night! I’m Freddie, and I’ll have a vodka soda please, dear.”

Freddie was quite handsome and exotic looking. You noted something of an accent to his speech that indicated time spent far from this little corner of London.

“Coming right up, Freddie,” you replied with a little wink, which in turn caused a big grin to spread across the man’s face. He turned to the very tall man next to him and whispered what sounded like, “I like this one!” The man chuckled, his shoulders and his beautiful, dark curls bouncing. You watched as he turned his lovely smile toward you.

“I’ll have a glass of grapefruit juice, please. I don’t like to drink before shows. I’m Brian, by the way.”

“Lovely to meet you, Brian,” you responded. It truly was lovely to meet him, he was very polite and soft spoken. He intrigued you, like there was something much more to this gentle giant, something complex. Your gaze lingered on him perhaps a moment too long before you were brought back to earth.

“'Ere, love, what have you got on tap?” A high, raspy voice came from your immediate left, directly opposite Freddie. You turned toward the source and nearly did a double take.

Are all the members of this band ridiculously attractive? You thought to yourself. The man (for upon closer inspection, this creature definitely appeared male, if not entirely human) who looked up at you was breathtakingly beautiful. His features were even softer and more delicate than those of the other two men you had already spoken to. Waves of shining, blond hair framed a slim face from which huge, very round, sky-blue eyes stared at you. Eyes which looked you down and back up again. Ugh. Could he be any more obvious? One eyebrow was cocked and a smug smile pulled at one corner of the man’s mouth.

“Have you got any cheap pale ales?” The man’s nose even twitched when he spoke. How cute. You mentally shook yourself. Damn invasive thoughts.

“I’ve got Whitbread,” you suggested,

“Perfect, luvvie,” the man said, before shooting you another smirk and slipping his sunglasses back on. Why he needed them inside the dimly lit bar you did not know.

“That’s Roger,” Brian said. “The biggest ‘member’ of them all.”

“Oi! Watch it, Bri! I might have to–!”

“Okay, a Whitbread for Blondie!” you interrupted, sensing already that Roger might be a bit of a handful. Freddie clapped his hand together and laughed as Roger pouted. You ignored them and leaned a little closer to address the quietest member of the group. Once you got a good look, though, you felt your mouth go dry and suddenly felt like your throat was closing up.

The man sitting beside Roger was the most magnificent creature you had ever seen. He was somehow both cute and incredibly sexy as he leaned back casually, observing everything around him. The golden tawny mane that tumbled down the man’s shoulders looked soft and luxurious, and your fingers itched to reach out and touch. He had a strong nose which was perfectly rounded on the end and drew attention to the plush, pink pout of his lips. His green-grey eyes seemed to take in every detail, and when the met your own, you felt as if the man were staring into your soul.

“Uh,” you addressed the man eloquently.

“This is our dear bassist, John,” Freddie offered with a secretive smile. “He’s also our tech wizard and our financier.”

You finally recovered from your small crisis and flashed Freddie a soft smile before turning your attention back to John.

“A Jack of all trades, I see. Well, what about you, love? Would you like a drink?”

“I’ll have three fingers of whiskey. Whatever is cheap will be fine, please and thank you.”

John’s accent hinted at a northern heritage, and his voice was immediately calming to you. He was just as polite as Brian, and you already felt yourself swooning.

“Coming right up, John,” you said with a soft smile, and with one more glance at the man, you turned to make your way back to the bar.

As your poured the drinks, you eyed up the whiskey shelf, weighing your options. Someone who drinks plain whiskey must drink it because they like the taste of it, however John had ordered something cheap, so you reasoned he must be on a budget. You quickly grab one of the top shelf bottles and pour out the desired amount. As you add it to their tab under the price of the pub’s cheapest variety, you told yourself you were simply providing good service and placed it on your tray between Brian’s juice and Roger’s cheap ale.

———————————————————————————————————–

The rest of the night passed smoothly, the bar was packed to the breaking point with patrons come to hear the live music, but thankfully no one decided to start any conversations with their fists, and it seemed no one had been sick on the floor, as had happened the past two times you had worked a live show night. Both bands played wonderfully, and except for a small sound problem, which John fixed in about five minutes, the performances went very smoothly.

You found you really liked Queen, they were one of the better bands you had seen perform in your time at this particular pub, and they seemed to have real potential.

Freddie’s voice was clearly very special, powerful and unique to anyone you had heard before. You could tell he was also a very capable pianist.

Brian was a sorcerer on his guitar, able to create sounds you had never heard before, sustain solos you thought would never end, looking like some ethereal creature under the stage lights while making it all look effortless.

Even Roger, you had to admit, left you cheering. You were very impressed by his speed on the drums, moving faster than any drummer you had seen before and creating strong, solid beats for the other three to follow. His voice was also very special. Halfway through one song, you could not seem to recall the name of it, he let out a high, sustained screech that you originally thought came from a distressed patron. When the crowd started cheering instead, you looked to the stage to see Roger eating up the attention. You paid closer attention after that and soon realized the man had an amazing falsetto voice, and could hit notes you had once thought only dogs cold hear.

You were not really sure what to think of John for most of the night. You did not see him sing much, if at all, and he stayed back from the crowd at first. You thought he seemed very shy and nervous which you thought was strange for a member of a rock band. Around halfway through their set, Queen played their longest song of the night, a song Freddie introduced as “Liar”. The song seemed to instill some confidence in John, for soon he started dancing around in place and appeared to enjoy the music more. There came a call and response portion toward the middle, and you found you could truly not look away. Freddie leaned back against John as they shared a microphone and the crowd went wild. You thought you could even hear a few people shouting the words back at the appropriate times. They were captivating, and it was clear to you that John did know haw to work a crowd, even if he was too shy to actually do it. Then came his solo. You watched closely as John went wild, strumming hard and fast, and you felt your mouth go dry again watching his rather large hands coax such raw sound from his bass guitar. You cheered along with the crowd as John executed a slide that sent shivers down your spine. He caught your eye and smirked, and for the rest of the night, John was unstoppable. He danced around the stage, and occasionally jumped up to the drum riser to reconnect with Roger. Together they were clearly a powerhouse, a strong and stable foundation to build upon.

The band had just left the stage and you were making your way back to them to check in and tell them you loved their performance when you thought you heard someone shout your name from across the pub. You turned toward where you thought it had come from, but did not see any familiar faces, only people chatting among themselves and gearing up to move along home for the night. You shrugged it off and made your way to the table where you could see Freddie still clearly hyped up on the adrenaline of performing.

“Hello again, gents,” you said as you approached, trying to reign in your excitement for them and remain as professional as possible. “Just checking in again, can I get you anything else?”

“(Y/N)! Dear how was it? Did you enjoy the show?” Freddie was bouncing on the balls of his feet in front of you, skin and hair still glistening with sweat, a bright, almost manic glimmer in his eyes. “Honestly, please tell me honestly, did you like us?”

“Freddie, yes!” you answered with a laugh. “Queen is wonderful. Really, you are! I’ve seen a lot of bands come through here, a lot of really good bands, but you lot are really something else. I was captivated by each of you from the first note.”

Freddie screamed before grabbing you around the shoulders and smashing you against his chest in a bone-crushing hug. It was a little gross, as he was so sweaty and it had soaked through his stage costume, but you still brought your arms up and returned the embrace. You were finding you liked Freddie more and more as the night wore on.

“Alright, Fred, give the poor thing room to breathe!” came Brian’s voice. “I’m sure (Y/N) would like to go home and not have to nurse any cracked ribs.” Freddie gave you one last squeeze and a quick kiss on the cheek before letting you go and turning to pack up his own gear. “Please forgive him. He’s like a puppy sometimes, he gets way too excited after a show, especially with a good crowd like this.”

“It helps that they had great music to respond to. I mean it truly, Queen is great. You’d have to be dead not to be moved by at least one of your songs.”

Brian laughed at that, shoulders and curls shaking once again, and said, “Well, thank you for such honest and…creative approval.”

“You’re welcome! Now really, is there anything I can get for you gents? Perhaps one more drink to toast a great show?”

“I’ll take another drink and your number,” came that now familiar, raspy voice. You turned around to see Roger, already changed out of his stage clothes, approaching you with a smug look on his face. He was actually a good bit taller than you originally thought he was. Perhaps it was a trick of perception, with him sitting behind the drums for the last hour, your subconscious just assumed he would be significantly shorter than his band mates.

“Seriously, Rog?” Brian cut in before you could answer. “Cool it, eh? (Y/N)’s on the clock.”

Roger opened his mouth to argue, but you cut across him. “I’ll go grab those drinks, eh?”

“Only if you’ll have one with us!” Freddie called to you. “Please?”

You sighed. You really should refrain from drinking on the job, but you were also assigned to take care of Queen and see to any doable request they may have. You figured one little drink would be fine.

“Oh all right, Freddie,” you answered, shaking your head. “Same for everyone?”

“Perfect, darling!”

“Make mine a lager, please? I’d like something a little stronger now, post show.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Yes, please,” came a voice you had not heard since before the show started. John was watching from where he had a long, rectangular case, which you assumed held his guitar, tipped against a wall next to what looked like a plain-looking cabinet speaker. “I’ll come help you.”

“Okay,” you said with a small smile. He gave you a pointed look, and you knew he could tell you had been giving him one of the better quality liquors and passing it of as bottom shelf. “Thank you, John.”

You turned back toward the bar and felt rather than heard John follow closely behind you. He sat on a stool at the end of the bar while you ducked behind the counter, fixing everyone’s drinks and finding one for yourself.

“So did you really like it?” John asked suddenly, his finger tracing through a ring of condensation left behind on the bar. He glanced up at you from beneath his long eyelashes before he looked back down to the moisture on the dark wood. Seeing the confused look on your face, he added, “The show. Did you really like our music that much?”

“Oh! Yes!” you said, putting your drink pouring on hold to lean against the bar in front of him. “I meant every word I said. I truly think you four have a lot of potential and I cannot wait to see what Queen becomes. You really blew me away with that solo of yours, John. I was truly captivated.”

John looked up at you and smiled then, and in that moment, you knew you were in trouble. The way his eyes crinkled around the edges sent your heart aflutter, and you were certain the little gap between his perfect front teeth was the cutest thing you had ever seen. You knew you had to see him again, and were just about to ask when and where their next show was when a familiar voice boomed down the bar at you, making your skin crawl.

“Oi! What’s it take for a real man to get service around here, eh?!”

Your eyes widened as you turned, horrified, to face your absolute prick of an ex boyfriend.

[disasterdeacy]

Moonlight Mother {John Deacon x Reader}

A/N: I legit have no words except I am so sorry to my mother, our lord and savior Jesus Christ, and to John Richard Deacon. Warnings: SIN!!! Y’all, seriously don’t read this if you’re under 18.

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader Time Period: 1981, aka the best era of John Deacon, THANK YOU ROCK MONTREAL

Word Count: 4515 (god)

 John dropped his bag, sighing into his hands as he rubbed his face. The concerts had been absolutely incredible, and he had had a great time, but god he missed his bed; and by bed he meant wife. The two weeks he had been away from Y/N were the worst two weeks of his life, phone calls 3x a day weren’t enough. He needed her, in every way imaginable.

 Before he had left for Canada, he had wanted to tell Y/N that he wanted to try and have a baby. After all, he loved this woman more than he loved being alive, who else would be rather have a family with? However, he hadn’t managed to get the chance to ask her in person before he left, as the two had been rather occupied. He had talked to both Roger and Brian during their time in Canada, asking their advice on how to bring up the subject of children to his young wife.

 His two band mates had only smiled and made jokes about how the two already went at it like two catholic rabbits, and that with his luck she was already pregnant. But John knew that wasn’t true. Two days before he left, he found a negative pregnancy test in the bathroom rubbish bin. He had been a little disheartened by the since pink line, but he also knew that they had plenty of time to have a family, after all Y/N wasn’t even 25 yet, and he was only 30. The thought of being a dad had always made John smile, the possibilities were endless when it came to his future children, and the knowledge that he would be responsible for the next generation of Deacons made him feel more like a man than he had ever felt before.

 When he had been younger, before he met Y/N, John only assumed that the only reason he wanted children was to carry on his name, and pass on his genes to. He had never imagined that there would be this insatiable desire inside of him to put a baby in his wife’s womb. Ever since he had first seen her wide hips and deliciously plump breasts, accentuated by those damn high waisted pants and a turtleneck which was too tight to be comfortable, he couldn’t stop imagining pumping her full of his cum, impregnating her over and over and over again.

 His cock ached at the thought of seeing his beautiful young wife, round and glowing, carrying his child in her womb, a child which his own cock has placed there. It was an image that he had cum to, too many times to count. Especially these last 2 weeks he’d been away, there had been nothing that could keep his cock restrained when it came to the thought of his cum dripping down Y/N’s leg, knowing that he more than likely had just put a baby in her.

 It was a thought that John had to stop himself from having as he walked through the door of your home, according to his watch it was 3:24am, Y/N would definitely be asleep. He sighed, he wanted nothing more than to snuggle in bed behind her, slipping his achingly hard cock in between her ass cheeks to wake her, before he would pound her poor little pussy into oblivion. However, he knew that the two of them needed to have a talk about it before he just went and got her pregnant. It wasn’t just him he had to think about, he loved his wife, and he wanted Y/N to be the one to decide when they had children. After all, he was just the sperm donor, she was the one who had to do all of the heavy lifting throughout the pregnancy.

 Little did John know, Y/N had been having the same thoughts. Ever since her and John had met, she knew that she wanted to have his children, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. John was the sweetest man she had ever met, he was loving, kind, caring, funny, and insanely attractive. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and without him, she knew that she wouldn’t be half the woman she was today. So, when her period was a few days late before John was due to go to Montreal, she was ecstatic.

The young woman had waited for John to leave for rehearsal, before she rushed down to the corner store and purchased a single home pregnancy test. When she returned home she wasted absolutely no time before taking the test, so when it came back negative and her period came only a few hours later, she was slightly upset. Although she knew that she and John had all the time in the world, she couldn’t get over the way the possibility of being pregnant with John’s child made her feel.

 She had never wanted children before meeting John, and now here she was, masturbating every night to the mere thought of John’s cock spilling a baby into her womb. It was the single hottest fantasy she could imagine, and all she wanted was to feel her husband’s cum fill her up, she wanted it to stay inside of her all day, running down her legs whenever she attempted to walk. Y/N had gone to sleep the night before John was due to come home, in nothing but one of John’s oversized T shirts, knowing it would drive him absolutely wild when he walked into their shared room. Her pussy was dripping when she went to bed, the mere thought of John impregnating her enough.

   John had managed to completely strip down to nothing but his boxers by the time he made his way to him and his wife’s bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing leading from the front door, all the way to their bedroom door. He knew he would get an ear full about it in the morning, but at this particular moment in time, he did not give two shits. All he wanted to do at this very moment was girl up next to his gorgeous wife, and sleep for hours. Well, that wasn’t ALL he wanted, but he that would be all he would be allowed to do until morning came. However, when he quietly entered the room, the sight before him took his breath away.

 His young wife was asleep atop the covers, dressed in only one of his many oversized shirts. While they were usually quite large on him, his wife’s curves filled out every one of his shirts better than any supermodel could ever hope to fill out a dress on the runway. Her long legs were bent at the knee, one crossed atop the other, giving him a perfect view of her ass, an ass that he had so often imagined while away. He shuddered at the sight of his wife, so angelic, and yet so devilish. His cock was even harder than it had been when he walked through the door, pressing against the constraints of his boxers, begging to be set free. John moaned as he felt the extremely sensitive tip of his clock rub against the cotton material, he knew that he couldn’t sleep like this. Conversation be damned, he needed to be buried balls deep in his wife’s tight pussy. He needed to fuck Y/N, and he needed to fuck her now.

Running a hand through his curly hair, John Deacon all bit ran across the room to the bed which his sleeping wife occupied, her figure unmoving. He slipped in bed behind her, wrapping a toned arm around middle, pulling her backside flush against him. He groaned at the feeling of his cock on her ass, it was almost unbearable. The sudden movement caused Y/N to stir, her sleepy eyes opening only slightly, adjusting to the moonlight filled room.

At first she didn’t know what was going on, but as soon as she woke slightly, she felt the all to familiar feeling of her husband’s arm around her middle, and the even more familiar feeling of his pulsing cock pressed into her backside. Y/N smirked and began grinding her ass into the metal like rod of a penis her husband was pressing against her, knowing that this always managed to get a response from the man. And what a response it was.

 “You saucy little minx, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now? What you’ve been doing to me for the past 2 weeks?”

John’s voice was deeper than Y/N had ever heard it, and the feeling of his hot breath against her neck caused her to moan like a wanton slut. She couldn’t take nor facing him anymore, so she flipped around to face John, taking his right hand into her own.

“I can feel exactly what I’ve been doing to you, would you like to feel what you’ve been doing to me?”

John was staring her straight in the eyes, the moonlight showing her that his pupils were blown, making his grey eyes seem almost black in the darkness. Her words had somehow made his cock even harder that it had been before, and he could feel the precum leaking from it like a faucet that just wasn’t turned off properly. What happened next, John wasn’t expecting at all, but knowing his wife, definitely should have been.

 Upon seizing John’s right hand, Y/N latched her mouth onto her husband’s, slipping her tongue into his as she also slid his fingers into her soaking wet pussy. John moaned louder than she was used to, the vibrations from his throat reverberating through her own. His fingers soon went to work, coating themselves in his wife’s wetness, which wasn’t seeming like it was ever going to stop.

 “God John! I’ve missed the way you make me feel.”

Y/N moaned out into John’s mouth, her hands clutching at his curly locks, God she loved this hairstyle on him. His fingers had gone straight into her soaking pussy, 4 fingers were completely buried inside his wife, curling so he could find that special spot that always made Y/N cum hard and fast. His thumb was perfectly perched on the little bundle of nerves at the top of her gorgeous mound, rubbing lazy circles around it, his pace making Y/N feel as though he was killing her in the beat way possible.

 John loved playing with his wife’s pussy, it was one of his favorite things in the world. Feeling the way she clenched and released around his fingers, depending on just how fast he was pounding, or how slight his fingers were curling. However, as much as he loved their usual foreplay games, tonight, John simply wanted to pound his wife into the mattress with the fury of 1,000 gods.

Just as Y/N was nearing her release, mouth wide, eyes clenched shut from the sheer weight of the pleasure John was giving her, he removed his fingers from her, bringing them up to his mouth to clean.

The loss of the full feeling caused Y/N to groan unhappily, however when she saw John greedily lapping at her wetness on his fingers, her annoyance turned to unbridled lust. Before she even knew what she was doing, she had climbed atop John, straddling his waist as she attached her mouth to his neck, biting and kissing every inch she could. John was speechless, his cock pinned between his wife’s bare thighs and his own stomach. He was in absolute heaven, his wife’s gorgeous mouth marking him as her’s, something they both loved to do to one another.

When the pressure on his cock became too much, John gently took hold of Y/N’s face, pulling her from his neck to look him in the eyes. The two lovers stared at one another, love and adoration seemingly poured from every pore on their bodies.

“I love you so much my darling, more than you know.” John couldn’t help but allow the words to flow from his mouth as he cupped Y/N’s cheek, pulling her towards him to place a single kiss to the top of her head.

This woman sat atop him was the only person in the entire world who truly understood and loved him, completely and selflessly. All sexual motives aside, there was no woman alive that he would rather be given the honor to call the mother of his children.

After John’s display of love, Y/N simply couldn’t wait any longer. Reaching between herself and John, she quickly lined her husband’s throbbing cock up against her and before John knew what was happening, his cock was completely enveloped by his wife’s waiting heat. He groaned at the feeling, sitting up in the bed and wrapping his arms around Y/N, bringing her towards him, burying his face in her ample chest. “Fuck Y/N, you feel so good.” John gasped into his wife’s chest, his arms tightening around her waist as she rode him slowly, taking his cock completely inside of her. Y/N threw her head back in ecstasy, the feeling of her husband’s cock filling her up completely after two weeks apart almost too much for her to handle. John felt the same way, whenever Y/N took the reigns and rode him, he could never hold himself together for long. He didn’t want that tonight. John wanted to take his wife hard, and for as long as possible. He wanted to savor this moment, he wanted to make his wife cum as many times as possible before he completely filled her to the brim with his cum, hopefully putting a baby in her beautiful belly. Y/N’s soft moans were only egging him on, causing his cock to grow even more inside of her, her wetness running down the throbbing length, dripping down his taunt balls, onto the sheet below them. “God, John, I’ve missed you so much, my fingers could never make me feel this way.” Y/N grabbed hold of John’s head, bringing his lips to her’s, biting his bottom lip, hoping this would cause a reaction. To most people, John wasn’t exactly seen as a sex go, most people would be incorrect. While John’s sweet and loving side usually dominated their everyday life, behind closed doors, John was an absolute deviant. He was rough, dominating, and oh so good. Y/N had been surprised the first time John had let that side of him show, she couldn’t walk for almost 2 days afterwards; the whole time she was in bed, John never left her side, running her bath after bath, massaging her when she asked, and placing soft kisses along her entire body. Since then, things had only gotten better. Of course the two of them didn’t have aggressive sex every night, sometimes John wanted Y/N to take control, to be soft, loving, and to simply make love. Tonight wasn’t that night though.

After being apart for two weeks, their thoughts running rampant with images of swollen bellies, throbbing cocks leaking with cum, and shaking thighs, neither John nor Y/N wanted soft and gentle. John groaned into Y/N’s mouth at the feeling of her teeth against his bottom lip, if she wanted to play that game, he would play. Y/N soon got the answer to her unasked question when John quickly pulled out of her, flipping the two of them so her back was pressed against the mattress. She moaned at the feeling of John’s roughness, looking into his eyes, pupils blow. He looked like a madman, his eyes wild and hungry, mouth agape, spit running from his lips onto her chest. Y/N reached up to grab onto his curly hair, hoping to bring him to her neck so he could mark her as his, she fucking loved when he did that. She loved showing the world who she belonged to, and John loved it just as much as she did. However, John had other plans.

Just as Y/N went run her fingers through his hair, John grabbed her wrists in his hands, forcing them to the bed above her. “No ma’am, tonight, you listen to me. You do what I tell you, you don’t speak, you just listen.” John’s last word was drawn out, almost a breathless moan, as he leaned forward to take the lobe of her ear into his mouth, gently biting it, his breath hot and wet on Y/N’s neck. “John..” “No. If you talk, you don’t get to cum. If you speak, I’ll leave you here, soaking wet and pleading for release. I’ll tie you to the bed, and sleep in the guest room, screaming out as I cum on my stomach thinking of your pretty little mouth and gorgeous pussy. Understood?” Y/N clenched her eyes shut as John pressed a single, calloused finger inside of her, moaning and nodding in agreement with her husband.

She needed this, she needed him inside of her, more than she needed air. John seemed satisfied with his wife’s answer, grinning into her neck as he placed a single kiss against the junction between her jaw and ear. “Look what you’ve done to be baby, look at how much my cock needs you.” He sat up slightly, taking his cock into his hand. Y/N sat up on her elbows to get a better look at her husband, and what she saw made her whine. John’s cock was red, throbbing with anticipation, his cock head was nearly purple with need, precum seeping out of it nonstop, coating his hand as he rubbed a single finger along his slit. He knew exactly what he was doing to his wife, and he didn’t even have to look at her sopping wet center to know that. Y/N had her bottom lip completely inside of her mouth, teeth biting down hard enough that he was sure she would bring blood. John released his cock, making sure his fingers were coated in his own arousal. “It looks like I’ve made a bit of a mess darling, could you help me?” Y/N knew exactly what John wanted, so she nodded like the good girl she was, and John stuck four of his completely saturated fingers inside of her waiting mouth. She moaned at the taste of her husband’s precum, sucking his fingers while swirling her tongue around the tips, her eyes meeting his own, before closing them to savor his taste. The sound of his wife’s delicate moans, accompanied by the feeling of her mouth around his fingers, sucking his precum off of his fingers like a good little slut, was too much for John to handle. He pulled his fingers from her mouth, and before Y/N even had time to comprehend what was happening, John had buried himself deep inside of her once more. Y/N gasped at the sudden intrusion, throwing her head back, giving John full access to her neck, which he soon took complete advantage of. John was viciously fucking her now, his cock drilling into her at a speed that she had previously never seen John move. Y/N was gasping for breath, her arms clinging to John to keep herself grounded. John had his head resting against her’s, his arms on either side of her body to keep himself from crushing her. “God Y/N, I want to fuck a baby into you.” The words had fallen from his mouth before he even knew what had happened, he didn’t know why he said it, he hadn’t been planning on even bringing up his fantasy until they had spoken about their wishes fully, but the feeling of Y/N’s muscles clenching around his cock coupled with her fingernails digging into his back muscles just made the words he had been bursting to speak spill out.

Once he realized what he had done, John halted his movements, lifting his head from Y/N’s, and looking into her eyes, worried at what he might see. He stared into her eyes for a beat, his mouth wide, ready to apologize, his previous demeanor gone, replaced by the John everyone was used to seeing. However, just as he opened his mouth to speak, he closed it as he felt his wife’s pussy clamp down around his cock. Y/N couldn’t help it, the words that had come from her husband’s mouth had affected her in a way she hadn’t expected. “You want to fuck a baby in me?” Y/N didn’t even care about John’s previous threat, she needed to hear it again. John looked down at you, his eyes wide. “Uh, I, I’m.” He couldn’t stop stuttering, he didn’t want to freak Y/N out, it was a pretty intense statement. “Because, I want you to fuck a baby into me John. I want you to fuck me hard until you cum as deep inside of my womb.” Y/N leaned up, taking John by the back of his head, pulling his mouth to hers. John groaned loudly at his wife’s words, taking her by the back of the head, crushing his mouth to her own. “You want me to cum deep inside of you baby? You want me to fuck you until your womb is absolutely filled with my cum?” All Y/N could do was nod and scream out John’s name as he ferociously fucked her, his cock finding that special spot deep inside of her body that always made her cum harder than she ever imagined possible. “I’m going to fuck you every night until your poor little pussy is absolutely demolished. My cum is going to be leaking from you until your belly is swollen with our baby.” John had his hands on their headboard now, anchoring himself so he could fuck Y/N harder and faster than he ever had, spurred on by the image of Y/N in this exact same position, her womb full with the life of his child. “God, John, I’m so close love!” Y/N couldn’t hold back anymore, John hitting that same spot over and over, the thought of his cum filling her up until she got pregnant, the feral look in his eyes, all coupled together with the fact that she hadn’t had him in two weeks, was too much to handle. Seeing how close his wife was, and knowing he wouldn’t be far behind her, John removed his hands from the headboard and lifted her legs over his shoulders, allowing for his cock to go deeper than he thought possible. “Fuck, Fuck! John!” Y/N arched her back, a pleasure far more intense than anything she had ever felt before washing over her entire body. Feeling Y/N losing herself underneath him, her walls clenching him like a vice, John came, a scream caught in his throat. He could feel stream after stream of cum bursting from his cock, imbedding itself deep in his wife, it just didn’t seem to end. Y/N was still recovering from her own orgasm when she felt her husband lose himself inside of her, the warmth of his cum erupting from his cock filling her. She couldn’t believe just how much cum was spilling from her husband, his cock was still twitching inside of her and she could feel his cum leaking out of her vagina. Once the aftershocks of his orgasm had ceased, and he could think straight once again, he gently moved Y/N’s legs down from off of his shoulders, making sure to keep his cock buried deep inside her core, wanting to keep his cum inside of her for as long as possible. He didn’t know if that would increase their chances of getting pregnant, but it felt right. John was absolutely spent, he had never had an orgasm that intense, and he had never fucked anyone as aggressively as he had just fucked Y/N. Y/N was running her fingers through his hair as he laid his head on her breasts, still breathing as heavily as she had been before John had finished. “Did you mean it John?” She placed a kiss to the top of his sweaty head, her hands running up and down his back. She desperately hoped that he did, and it wasn’t something that he had just mentioned in the midst of sex. John raised his head from Y/N’s chest, a sleepy smile on his face. “Of course I meant it love, I’ve been thinking about it ever since I met you. I mean, just think about how gorgeous our children would be.” John began ticking Y/N’s sides, laughing as she shrieked. She began laughing, struggling against his fingers. “John! Be serious love. You’re ready?” Y/N grabbed John’s hands, bringing them to her mouth to place small kisses on the knuckles. John’s eyes softened as he felt his wife’s lips against his hand, this wasn’t how he had planned this conversation to go. He sighed and regrettably pulled out of Y/N wincing at the loss of warmth, sitting up, he pulled Y/N up with him as well, waiting until the two of them were sat in front of each other, legs crossed. John took Y/N’s hands back into his own, before speaking.

“Y/N, love, I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. From the moment I met you, I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, and there is no woman who I would rather have be the mother of my children. You’re kind, loving, hilarious, and I wasn’t joking when I said that our children would be beautiful.” Y/N laughed at John, of course he would be the sweetest human being alive after pounding her poor body into oblivion. Y/N grabbed hold of John’s shoulders, pulling him towards her until the two were lying against the bed once more, John curled into her side. She smiled down at him, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Well, I would be honored to be the mother of your children John Richard Deacon.” John’s eyes began to water as he looked up at Y/N, he had never felt a love so strongly before. “I love you so much Y/N, more than you could ever know.” John had tears running down his cheeks as he reached up and kissed his wife, cupping her face in his hands. “Well, I should hope so John, after all, I am going to be the mother of your children.” Y/N’s seemingly sweet and innocent comment greatly affected John, his cock becoming hard once more at the thought of his wife carrying his child. Y/N rose her eyebrows at the sudden feeling of her husband’s hard cock pressed against her side. “Already John, really?” She couldn’t help but laugh as he blushed a deep red. “Well love, like I said, I won’t rest until you’re swollen with our child.” John had climbed back on top of her at this point, smiling down at Y/N as she rolled her eyes. “Then you’d better get to it Mr. Deacon.” John grinned and flipped them over so she was on top of him. “With pleasure Mrs. Deacon”

  @itsametaphorbriansblog @deakysgirl @localspacegod @greenie-frog @carlquesarito @deaky-dandelion @fearless2beme @spookyfrances @annas-unicorun @shy-deacy

[taylorroger-s]

happy new year // roger taylor x reader

a/n i am a total hoe for soulmate aus. so might as well start out this year with one of my guilty pleasures. the one that i chose is : you can’t see the color of your soulmates eyes (if your soulmate’s eyes are green, you can’t see any green). only their eyes have that color, and you can’t see the rest of the world in that color, until you touch them (is this incoherent? idk i can’t tell). cheesy, but i love it. get ready for a debaucherous (i love that word) queen party, and some good old fashioned eighties bs.

just too clear something up, you can’t see the eye color if your soulmate is in a picture. so if you see a picture of your soulmate, you won’t be able to see the color of their eyes.

masterlist here!

also i got a little carried away so it turned into a little bit of an oc fic??? lmao

enjoy :)

⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱

until new years eve 1978, you were totally convinced that the color blue was a myth.

twenty seven years on planet earth, with still one color missing from your life. and you were used to it. all of your friends had found their soulmates young, always gleefully describing the dresses in store windows and the daytime sky. to you, it was all grey. and you really didn’t mind. sunsets were still beautiful, so were the colorless flowers and pale fabrics.

plus, you weren’t terribly concerned with your personal life as much as you were for your professional life. you weren’t hung up on finding your soulmate, though sometimes you would drift off and wonder what your life would be like if you had already found that one person with bright blue eyes.

you woke up on december twenty-ninth, refreshed and desperate to make it to the weekend. your friend had been hinting that she had a special surprise for you, but wouldn’t tell you until friday. well, it was friday, and you were anxious to find out. you desperately hoped she hadn’t gone searching for people with “blue” eyes (as she had already found her soulmate and knew the color), then set you up on blind dates. you knew all that she wanted to do was help you find “the one”, but you were fine with just casual dates, casual relationships.

it was another grey day in london, with rain streaming down the windows and pooling in potholes. you worked at a diner downtown, one serving more american themed dishes. all you really got there were groups of tourists or drunk people stumbling in during your late night shifts. it kept things quite entertaining. fridays were your easiest shift. nine to three, just having to deal with the light lunch rush. then immediately after, you were scheduled to meet at a local coffee shop with your friend where she would finally reveal what she had been planning.

the one thing you truly couldn’t stand about your work was the uniform you had to wear. it was a fifties style dress, designed to look like one for an old-fashioned housewife. yours was a creamy pastel yellow, with a crisp white apron that held your notepad, a polaroid of your childhood dog, and a pack of cigarettes. you wrestled your unruly curls into a loose updo, topping it off with a yellow headband that matched the color of your dress.

you looked exactly like a mid fifties woman, the light colors of the dress contrasting nicely with your deep brown skin. yawning slowly, you shuffled over to your clock, eyes widening when you realized what time it was. 8:20. bollocks. your commute in itself was nearly half an hour using the underground, which a ten minute walk in your frilly dress, no matter what the weather. if you didn’t leave right then, you would be late for your shift.

throwing on a dark red overcoat, you headed out the door, a granola bar and scarf in hand. you lived alone in a tiny flat right near the outskirts of the city, and the nearest underground station was a brisk walk away. your commute passed in silence, and soon enough you were at your work, just a few minutes before your shift began.

“hello my dear.” crooned a stout woman name rosie as you entered the break room. you gave her a quick smile and a nod in response. she gave you a pat on the back as she passed by, placing her burnt out cigarette on a nearby ashtray. there was a small mirror on the wall, and you walked over to it, adjusting your overflowing curls.

after putting on your “professional” smile, you went into the main dining room. at the front was a group of people waiting to be seated. there was a ridiculously tall man with a wild mane of curls, a shorter man with close cropped curly hair, another man with a particularly bold fur coat, and a lanky woman seated next to someone with fluffy blond hair. you couldn’t quite spot their face as they appeared to be whispering something to the woman that made her giggle and blush. the tallest one approached you, a kind smile on his angular features.

“hullo, do you have a table for five?”

“of course! right this way sir!” you chirped, grabbing five menus from behind the hostess podium. waving the group towards you, your eyes scanned for an empty table. you placed the menus down on a corner booth, giving your brief spiel about the daily specials and if they wanted coffee. you still hadn’t been able to see who the blond haired individual was, but you had other tables to deal with.

after greeting another table, you returned to the table with the five people, the blond one and the woman they were talking with noticeably absent.

“y’all ready to order?” you asked as you poured their coffee. the one with the bouncy curls nodded, flipping to the omelette page.

“yes okay… i’ll have the veggie omelette, and deaky,” he tilted his head towards the man next to him.

“i’ll have the chocolate chip pancakes,”

“and i’ll have the eggs benedict darling! roger must be off with his plaything doing god knows what,” the man in the vivid coat huffed dramatically, taking a sip from his coffee cup.

“just some hash browns for them i guess. thank you so much love.” you gave him a bright smile, tucking a stray curl behind your ear.

“sure thing! that all sir?”

“darling please, call me freddie.” he gave you a wink, and you returned his crooked smile.

freddie huh?

while walking away, you had an inkling feeling that those people were… important in some way, but you couldn’t put your finger on what exactly was bothering you. it took a few more minutes of flitting around before you finally got an answer, from one of the chefs whispering in the kitchen as you went to pick up their food.

“oh my god… is that queen?”

queen. world renowned rock band that broke every expectation and barrier set before them. and you were serving them. at nine fifteen am. in downtown london. holy shit. once you made that revelation, you handed off the dishes, and ducked into the storeroom, back pressed to the wall.

holy shit.

in that moment, you were almost painfully aware of the grey in your vision. the sky would always be grey, no matter the weather. there was one color missing from your life, and all the shades that came with it. sometimes, you only wanted to meet your soulmate in order to make the world whole.

too soon, your little moment was over, and you had to put on the happy face once more. i still have samantha’s surprise, you thought to yourself. plus, your day was already quite nice thanks to the world famous band that you were serving.

however, once you entered the dining room, they were gone, most likely due to the masses that had flocked to your little diner when someone got word of their presence. their plates were half-finished, with a small napkin wrapped package on the table. intrigued, you walked over. in the little package was a hundred pound bill, and a small handwritten note.

‘so sorry for ducking out darling, the crowds were getting a little heavy. here’s some money for your troubles.

in other news, the boys and i would like to extend an invitation to our new years party. you seem like a lovely girl, and stunningly beautiful might i add. i promise you, the festivities will not disappoint.

if you decide not to go, that is fine as well. the party is gonna be in feltham, and i bet you’ll be able to find it. our parties tend to leave a trace.

wish you the best my dear!

- freddie mercury, brian may, john deacon, and roger taylor’

what?

-----

six hours later your shift was over, the lunch rush passing by without much fanfare. due to you heading out the door in such disarray, you had forgotten a change of clothes for your hang out with samantha. so you walked in to the closest pub in a frilly yellow dress. she was leaning against the bar, sipping a moscow mule. once sam spotted you with her sharp brown eyes, she waved you over, beaming ridiculously.

you immediately ran over and wrapped her in a hug, almost spilling her drink in the process. she laughed, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before hopping up onto a nearby barstool. her fiery red hair framed a grinning face, freckles spotting her nose and cheeks.

“oh my god, samantha, you would not believe what happened today!” you sighed heavily, letting your curls tumble down from your updo. the bartender pushed a pint your way, probably already ordered by sam. she was too good to you.

“o oh me first! guess what i got us an invitation to?” she wiggled her eyebrows, finishing off her drink in one gulp. you shrugged, giving her a “continue” gesture. slowly sipping your pint, you kept your eyes on your rambunctious friend.

“my friend mindy, the hairdresser, happens to cut hair for a certain mr. mercury…” she smirked, taking a sip from her second (as far as you knew) drink.

“long story short… WE’RE GOING TO QUEEN’S NEW YEARS PARTY!!!” sam let out a triumphant whoops, doing a little dance as you and an old man at the other end of the bar watched. you were truthfully too stunned to give a proper reaction, and she soon noticed.

“hellooooo, they’re only one of the most popular bands in the world! and we! can! hang! out! with! them! at freddie fucking mercury’s house! how are you not losing it! i know how much you love them.” you shook your head, laughing quietly to yourself. you soon couldn’t stop, shoulders shaking. sam looked at you, concern evident on her face. before she could question your reason for random laughter, you spoke up.

“funny story now, i may or may not have waited on mr. mercury on the rest of the band today at work.” you could feel a bright smile stretching across your features as your friend’s face fell in shock. the straw fell out of her mouth, drink tipping dangerously to one side.

“aaaaaand he left me an invite as well. and a hundred pound tip.” she soon caught on, shrieking in glee.

“who cares how we got invited. we’re going to queen’s new years party!!!!!!” you both danced around in a little circle, quickly shutting up when the aging female bartender shot you both a withering glare.

you were going to queen’s new years party.

this was gonna be fun.

-----

you spent the night of the twenty-ninth of december having a movie night with your cousin who was in town. you didn’t tell her about the queen party, since it still didn’t feel quite real. on saturday you headed out with sam, searching for some outfits for the party. a high end boutique called biba wasn’t far from when you worked, so after covering an early morning shift for rosie, you headed out.

“ooo this would look so good on you y/n!” sam shoved another short dress your way, yet another shade of grey. for some reason, samantha was absolutely convinced that your soulmate would be there at the party, calling it her “matchmaker sense” but she couldn’t talk, she had found her soulmate at eighteen. she swore to you that everything she picked out was blue, though she could have found silver and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

“davey isn’t gonna be joining us, just not his scene, so it’ll be a girls night!” sam ran around you in circles, tucking in a piece of fabric here, ruffling a skirt there. this particular dress was quite form-fitting, in a medium “blue” that hit you right at the mid thigh. but sheer fabric dripped down the skirt, in a slightly lighter shade, making it appear as if you were fading away. it was truly gorgeous. the dress had a sweetheart neckline in the darker “blue” fabric, then the sheer fabric created long sleeves and a neckline that stopped right at your collarbone.

it was gorgeous. sam picked out accessories made of silver and apparently the same “blue” as most of the dress. you had a velvet choker, jacket style earrings shaped to look like teardrops, and a set of stackable rings in silver and the dark blue. you had styled your own hair, braiding close to your scalp into two even plaits. your eyelids glitter silver, white eyeliner turning up into a cat eye. you had dark grey lipstick, that sam insisted was a dark blue. despite your inability to see the primary color of your ensemble, you were still stunning in all grey, contrasting with your dark brown skin.

you looked like a benevolent goddess of night and stars, a femme fatale that could rule the world.

“puuurrrrfect darling.” sam crooned, obviously doing an impression of freddie mercury and failing with pride. you giggled like a schoolgirl, still gazing dreamily at your striking reflection. sam came up from behind you, resting her chin on your shoulder. she assured you that she already had an outfit picked out, so she was dressed down, ruby-red hair loose around her shoulders.

“okay so plan for tomorrow…” you tore yourself away from your reflection, turning back to sam.

“davey and i come pick you up at nine, he drops us off, and we go get shitfaced!” you chuckled at her unbridled enthusiasm as she danced around, pumping her fist in the air. you carefully took off the dress and various accessories, slipping on your simple street clothes. sam gathered the clothing her arms, insisting that she pay for the outfit. though you put up a fight, she won, and you spent the ride back to your house thanking her profusely. the two of you met your first year of college and had become inseparable ever since. that night was spent like many in your uni days. homemade popcorn, the brady bunch, matching pajamas, and falling asleep on your couch.

-----

sam had been gone the next morning, leaving you to lounge around until it was nearly time for them to arrive. after a quick dinner of reheated chicken tikka masala, you headed to your bedroom.

you dressed slowly, having to redo your makeup a few times due to the incessant shaking of your hand. the idea of where you were going was so surreal. the freddie fucking mercury had invited you, a waitress with a masters degree in physics, to his new years eve party. the thought almost made you laugh. but under that, was an overwhelming amount of childhood giddiness. your reflection looked almost like a girl playing dress up instead of the goddess you looked like yesterday. still beautiful.

after you finally slipped into a pair of “blue” flats and finally got your winged liner perfect, sam was knocking at your door. she was wearing a fringed gold mini dress, long hair pulled into a tight bun. her eyelids and cheeks were dusted with a similar shade of gold, and she wore a red lipstick just barely brighter than her hair. she grinned at you, showing a hint of slightly crooked teeth.

“you ready to get plastered mdear?” her trademark grin appeared once she got a full look at your ensemble, a hint of pride visible in her eyes. your appearance was a result of her handiwork after all. you couldn’t help but match her enthusiasm.

this was going to be a night to remember.

on the car ride to wherever freddie’s estate was, queen blasted from the radio in david’s car. somebody to love was playing. samantha’s fingers were intertwined with her boyfriend’s as she sat in the passenger seat next to him. she sang along with a smile on her lips, occasionally turning around to grin at you.

hearing that particular song, in that particular setting, with those two particular people, made you a little wistful. you didn’t even want a romantic relationship in particular. just the person out there with the soul that fits perfectly with yours.

before you knew it, davey had pulled up to the curb about a block away from the house, since all the parking spaces on the curb were occupied. you and sam said your goodbyes to davey, sam opting for a quick kiss.

as you made your way closer to the house, you started to feel in over your head. there were pairs of people clustered together on the lawn, stumbling around. you approached the doorstep, sam not far behind. you gave her a nervous look, hand coming up too readjust your hair for what felt like the hundredth time. sam took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“ready y/n?”

“ready sammy.”

she smiled, and with her other hand opened the door and entered the chaos. you followed close behind, jaw dropping when you encountered the party raging on inside.

there seemed to be just a singular mass of people, all moving and tipping to the beat of a bass drum. at first you were too stunned to move, just gazing wide eyed at the party. but you forgot that your hand was still joined with sam’s, and she pulled you gently away from the doorway, slipping between the people. you could feel the thrum of the music in your chest as you walked too where sam was dragging you. it was to the alcohol.

she pulled her hand away to fill four shot glasses with vodka, handing you two of them with a mischievous grin.

“to 1979!”

“to 1979.”

counting to three, you knocked one of the shots back, followed by the second one immediately after. you could feel a warm buzz from the alcohol filling your senses, slightly burning the back of your throat. sam shouted an inaudible goodbye before disappearing, leaving you to take another shot alone and then crack open a bottle of beer. you could feel the alcohol begin to relax you, releasing the tension from your shoulders.

you felt a silly grin paint your features when the next song played, an upbeat elton john record that you had on vinyl back at home. you hopped onto the dance floor, the loose fabric of your dress brushing against your thighs. it felt really good to let loose, since you rarely had a break from dealing with people all day long. now you could relax under the soft influence of alcohol, dancing with whoever the fuck you wanted, soulmates be damned.

you danced your way through the space, randomly spinning into people's arms, giggling wildly. eventually, you stumbled into a break in the crowd, now standing around the edge of a circle of couches. four men were seated there, obviously the center of attention.

queen.

you managed to catch freddie mercury’s eye, giving him a tiny wave that you were convinced he didn’t see. he did, and he came over to you, taking you by the shoulders and giving you two brief cheek kisses.

“you were our waitress from the other day, yes? y/n? oh my dear, i’m so glad you can make it. i hope you are enjoying yourself!”

“definitely! thank you so much for inviting me by the way. and for the tip!” you had to shout to carry a conversation in the chaotic space, constant chatter and music filling the hot air. or maybe you were shouting because of the alcohol in your system.

“anytime love,” just then, fat bottomed girls started playing, and freddie beamed at you.

“now go dance! leave 1978 in the dust with flair!” he gave your shoulder a gentle push, moving you towards the dance floor, which seemed to be everywhere. you gave him one last smile and danced your way into the crowd to the lyrics “hey i was just a skinny lad / never knew no good from bad”

freddie turned back to the band, taking a seat right next to brian. he looked over, spotting roger staring at the place where you had disappeared with an awestruck expression.

“oi fred, who was that?” he turned towards freddie, a hint of childish excitement in his words.

“the waitress we had the other day that you didn’t meet because you were in the bathroom shagging that one girl.” he winced at freddie’s words, but roger still leaned forward, now ignoring the girl who was, up until then, trailing her hand down his chest.

“what’s got you so excited, huh?” deaky glanced over at roger, taking a swig from his beer bottle. roger shot him a glare, but soon went back to his excited and tense expression.

“say deaky, what color was that girl’s eyes?” deaky turned back to roger, eyes wide and jaw dropped.

“you don’t think…”

“i do think.” roger said those words with a finality, finishing off the drink in his hand, the girl by his side completely forgotten.

“i caught a glimpse of her face as she turned away, and her eyes looked, different. they were unlike any color i’d ever seen.”

“holy shit.” deaky whispered, placing his beer bottle on the low coffee table between the couches.

���rog, you can’t seriously…” brian began, getting cut off by roger beginning to speak again. he muttered to the girl by his side, probably a half assed apology due to her immediate storming away from the band.

“yes brian, i am serious,” roger leapt to his feet, anxiously adjusting his half-open button down and hair in the back of a spoon resting on the table. freddie grinned, giving roger a quick hug before patting his cheek.

“go get her rog, i believe in you.”

“thanks, fred. wish me luck!” roger called out as he slipped away, leaving the other three band members a little startled by the sudden change of mood.

“you could see that her eyes were the right color fred, didn’t you?” brian asked, readjusting to look his bandmate in the eye. freddie’s smile was evidence enough that he had invited you on the hunch that you were roger’s soulmate. and it seemed that he was right.

“of course darling, he deserves something steady, and i have a feeling she will be more than capable to handle his energy.”

-----

you had spent the last hour dancing with various people, at one point even exchanging a sloppy kiss with someone on the dance floor following a long slow dance to love of my life. you were then dancing with a small group of girls, including sam, who you found in just a few minutes after entering the main heart of the party.

too soon, it was nearing midnight, and you took a moment to review your 1978.

you had finally completed your masters degree in physics, had a flat all to yourself, a job that helped pay the bills, a best friend who would always be by your side, and more yet to come. though you didn’t find your soulmate in ‘78, the next year and the next year were unable to peer into, so anything could happen.

while gazing off into the distance while everyone danced around you, someone tapped on your shoulder. when you spun around freddie mercury was there, a mischievous smile on his sharp features.

“hello my dear, i truly hope you have a wonderful 2019, and i have a feeling there is much in store for you.”

“and to you too freddie, may you be blessed with a thousand cats and a thousand spot on performances.” he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before disappearing, but there was a person behind him looking right at you. when you looked up to meet their eyes, you nearly had a heart attack. fluffy blond hair framed the beaming face of notorious rockstar roger taylor. but what really shocked you to your core were his eyes.

they felt like a break in the clouds, a cool breeze on a hot day, the missing puzzle piece. he was possibly the most beautiful creature you had ever seen, with the most stunning eyes of a fresh, new color.

they were blue.

blue! the color wasn’t a myth! he looked as awestruck as you felt, lips parted slightly as he took a step towards you. you barely registered the countdown echoing around you as you slowly walked closer to roger. you were soon no more than six inches away from each other, and you were able to smell his heavy cologne, sour cigarette smoke, and the whiskey on his breath.

but most of all those eyes. as the countdown slowly drew into single digits, you felt a single tear roll down your cheek.

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

roger than cupped your face in his hands and crashed his lips against yours, your eyes closing as you felt his hand slip too the back of your neck as he pulled you closer. you felt a tremor run through your body from ever part of your body that was pressed against his. your hands were around his neck, his hands slipping down to your waist. you wanted to stay in that moment forever, your soul finally feeling… well, you didn’t quite know. once the cheers around you had subsided, roger slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

you opened your eyes, only focusing on the beautiful man you were wrapped up in. he gazed at you with pure adoration, and you could see a smear of your lipstick on his face.

and it was blue.

“hi.” you whispered, unable to look away from him.

“hi.” he responded, warm breath on your cheeks. his arms were low around your waist, toying with the sheer fabric of your dress. your dress! you glanced down, gasping a little at what your dress had become. it was just like sam had described it. you looked back up at roger, smile even brighter than before.

“you are more beautiful than i could have ever imagined. and believe me, i have.”

“i could say the same to you.”

he smirked at your reply, raising his eyebrow in a silent question. you bit your bottom lip in response, leaning closer. as you pressed your lips against his with your fingers wrapped in his hair, samantha was standing to the side, sipping from her champagne glass. she had a triumphant smirk on her red lips. freddie mercury came up from behind her, champagne glass also in hand. he clinked his glass against hers, matching her satisfied smile.

“it seemed as though our plan worked.” she said, her voice high and airy.

“it seems so, darling.”

knocking their glasses together again, freddie was the next to speak.

“to 1979, and our best friends.”

“to 1979.”

she gazed lovingly at the two of you drunkenly slow dancing, roger leaning in to whisper in your ear every once in a while, causing you to giggle before muttering something back. you glanced over your shoulder, seeing her watching you with a bright smile.

of course she was in on this, you thought, as you spotted freddie next to her with a similar look. you turned back to roger, him completely enamored with you.

1979 was going to be the best year of your life, and you were sure of it. but for now, you just wanted to stay in the arms of your soulmate, perfectly content.

⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱

hope y’all enjoyed this and i wish you a very happy 2019!

this is just a little one-off, so no one from my ten things taglist is tagged, but if you would like to be on a permanent taglist, i would be glad to start one!

[deaksandgeeks]

Tag Game

I was tagged by @brianmay-be and @loki-lover095 (for-frigging-ever ago)!! 💛💕 Thank you, friends!

Rules: Answer the questions. Your answer can be one word or a whole paragraph; the goal is just to have fun!

Favorite Month: October!! (Only six months away, let’s start gettin’ spoopy, y’all!) 

Favorite Number: I like the numbers 17 and 23

Favorite Color: Yellow! But, like, a soft yellow... like butter.

Nickname: Jules, Tommy or Boogies (but not for why you’re thinking)

A description of your current outfit: Purple cardigan, grey t-shirt, blue jeans and big fuzzy polka-dot socks

What does your hairstyle look like: I currently have chin-length platinum blonde hair, with dark purple underneath (layered so you see more of it when I wear it up, I guess? If that makes sense?? Even though I don’t ever because it is too short). Currently it is wavy.

Do you wear glasses or contacts: I almost only wear contacts. My perscription is so bad, so I hate wearing my glasses

Dream Job: straight chillin’

Lock Screen & Home Screen Description: my lock screen and home screen are pictures of John Deacon in his monochromatic outfits (lock - blue, home - yellow), with floral backgrounds and they are beautiful!

Favorite photo currently: he is a great listener

Favorite song currently: Probably Breakthru or Juice by Lizzo

Number one music artist: no i don’t want to choose

Do you prefer to lay in bed and do work or to sit at a desk: desk! I get too distracted/uncomfortable trying to position myself properly if I’m trying to write anything in bed

Left or Right: I’m right-handed, but I prefer the direction left for whatever reason, couldn’t tell you why

Winter or Summer: Summer! (IT IS ALMOST HERE YOU GUYS WE ARE GETTING SO CLOSE GET READY)

Spring or Fall: Halloween season, duh.

and I guess I’ll tag @allthe-queens-men @allhailthedeakydo @istill-loveyou39 and @stupiid-cupid if any of y’all feel like it, ok ok tyty

[zirawrites]

companions react to a reader who is always there for them and comforts them whenever they're feeling vulnerable/hurt/sad.

To quote Taylor Swift… “Honey I rose up from the grave, I do it all the time.” Ya fave fic writer Zira is back with another reaction! I finished my last summer classes, I’m home from England and ready to start being active again. I apologize if I’m rusty, I haven’t done a proper reaction in nearly six months. But I’m tryn’ for y’all!!!!

What really got me back in to reactions is reading some awesome fanfics recently. So as always, my inbox is open and I’ll be working away on my AO3 account for my first full-length fic!

TRIGGER WARNING: This post briefly mentions suicide in Preston’s reaction.

Cait: Before Cait met Sole, she only saw herself as someone who deserved the shite hand she was dealt. Almost immediately after they left the combat zone, it became apparent that Sole didn’t just see Cait as a companion: they really cared about her. Whenever Cait threw a bottle against the bar to pick a fight, Sole was there to defuse the situation. After Cait got them thrown out of Diamond City for calling Myrna “a right ol’ synth fucker,” Sole didn’t get frustrated (probably they were just relieved neither were arrested). Even in her darkest hours of getting sober, Sole was there to stroke her hair and keep her hydrated while she shook in bed.

It took time, but eventually Cait got used to Sole’s gentle touch and soft words. In fact, sometimes Cait acted out just to feel Sole brush the coarse hair from her sweating forehead to place a chaste kiss on it. Cait learned to bite her tongue over minor things like a drifter from Goodneighbor rudely asking for a shag, which pleased Sole. It made the moments Sole embraced her bruised and bloody body after a fight that much sweeter.

Codsworth: Being a Mr. Handy didn’t exempt Codsworth from the woes of life. In fact, the poor robot was probably the most likely companion to be frazzled in Sole’s company. Every time Sole ran too fast or used their fist over a silver tongue in tough situations, Codsworth blew a fuse. Well, not really. He was General Atomic’s finest, thank you very much. The reason Codsworth let Sole get away with so much mayhem was because he knew they always soothed his aching metallic heart after the fighting was over.

When Codsworth was stressed over being dragged along on a dangerous quest, Sole would stop in the shadows of the city and place their hand on his metal side. They let him rant about how foolish they were being. Weren’t they afraid of raiders? Radscorpions? Rogue synths? He would ramble on, his shaky words eventually trailing off as Sole’s thumb ran over the rust stains on his paint. They would tell Codsworth that they always came back unscathed, didn’t they? Codsworth would sigh and say that was debatable, but he trusted their judgement. How could he stay cross with his master/mistress?

Curie: Since becoming a synth, Curie would get overwhelmed with the new emotions she felt. The others in Sanctuary would poke fun at her for constantly overreacting, but Sole knew she just needed a little more tender love and care. When Curie was mad, she was beyond consolable. She would stomp around Sanctuary with balled fists and snap at the slightest transgression (a moment of silence for Sturges asking Curie to help paint the workbench). If Curie was wrapped up in a romance novel Sole had snatched her from a mission, she would curl up under the blankets and sob in to a box of pre-war tissues. For someone with such grace and poise, Curie was a wicked hurricane of emotion.

Sole could always get her to calm down with a voice of reason. They would remind Curie that the characters in her novels weren’t real. That you can’t solve every injustice in the world. And sometimes an innocent Sturges really did need help painting. Curie would take some deep breaths, and occasionally asked Sole to hold her hand. After thinking the situation over, Curie was back to her normal (albeit odd) self, and Sole would prepare for her next confusing emotion to surface.

Danse: Unfortunately for Danse, he really thought he could hide away his emotions. He had a terrible habit of scrunching his unkempt eyebrows when frustrated. If Danse was hurt by someone’s words, he ducked his head down for a few moments to fight back tears. For someone who guarded their heart so closely, Danse was in some ways an open book.

Whenever Danse needed to be vulnerable around Sole, he would try his damnedest to use words. Instead of shrugging his pain off, Danse would grit his teeth and talk about a depressing failed mission or recent nightmare. His favorite response from Sole was when they leaned in to listen closer and he could feel their breath on his neck. He wasn’t the cuddliest in the Commonwealth, but just seeing Sole being attentive to his needs put him in lighter spirits.

Deacon: Everybody’s favorite Egg Man was the hardest companion to crack. Deacon went out of his way to make sure Sole didn’t notice his sour mood. There were times a situation exasperated him, and he’d slip up to make a soft sigh. But those moments were rare. Usually if Deacon felt upset, his first instinct was to crack a joke. He needed other people to laugh as if his life depended on it. Maybe then they wouldn’t see his lips quiver. His posture stiffen. The grey cloud forming over his head.

However, that didn’t mean he didn’t always let Sole in. When his partner pried enough, Deacon would sit them down to vent. Sole would keep a respectable distance, but occasionally placed a reaffirming hand on his shoulder. Minor physical contact, but all of their attention on his story. Just knowing that Sole gave a shit was enough for him to collect his thoughts, boop his partners nose, and tell them it was time to get back to work. He was truly an enigma.

Dogmeat: The lucky German Shepherd had the most attentive master in the world. Sole knew what every individual bark or whimper out of Dogmeat’s mouth meant. When he couldn’t find an irradiated animal to chase on their walk? Sole would start sprinting to Red Rocket truck station for him to go after them. A crack of lightning during a rad storm? Sole was already on the ground supplying an ample amount of bully rubs. There was never a moment the dog felt unloved. After all, Sole was constantly reminding him that he was a good boy.

Gage: The first few times Sole tried to calm Gage down they were met with a prompt, “Aw, fuck off, boss!” Gage really only had one emotion, and it was anger. He took the longest to warm up to Sole, especially because whenever he did show his softer side it made him feel… vulnerable. Gage couldn’t punch his way through a heavy heart.

Whenever he did tell Sole about his childhood, he would stop every few minutes to make sure they were listening. Despite Sole’s initial assumption, Gage did like the occasional physical touch. When Gage was in a mood, Sole would run their hand down his arm or give his hip a light bump. He would blush, and Sole tried their best not to smile like an absolute idiot at their triumph. Gage always scoffed at his Overboss going soft on him, but it did keep him out of a few unnecessary bar fights.

Hancock: Mayor John “Puppy Dog Eyes” Hancock. Hancock never wanted to bring down the mood, but he felt completely comfortable sharing his feelings with Sole. His favorite tactic Sole used was when they ran their finger tips up and down his arm while he wore his coat. Hancock never relished in Sole having to touch his scarred flesh, but the feeling of Sole’s fingernails over the fabric of his favorite outfit was strangely calming. 

Hancock always had a flair for the dramatic, and Sole used this to their advantage to calm him down. Whatever exaggerated story he had to complain about, Sole always offered a crazy solution. Were raiders trying to extort money from the Goodneighbor drifters? The two of them should sic the entire Minutemen army on them. When Hancock was insecure about his ghoulish appearance, why didn’t Curie just whip up an anti-ghoulification serum? Sole’s antics always made Hancock chuckle, and then purr when Sole gave him an affectionate squeeze. They reminded him the two of them had time to sit down and think of a plan, and worrying didn’t exactly help his “King of the Zombies” reputation.

MacCready: Unbeknownst to MacCready, his boss had seen through the tough guy act at The Third Rail immediately. But over the course of their friendship, MacCready learned to let his guard down. He was more emotional than he let on. Every time MacCready broke down in front of Sole, he was reminded that he wasn’t alone. Most of MacCready’s rough nights were losing sleep over Duncan. Sole would lay down next to him and talk about their plans for pre-war Shaun. About how Nate/Nora insisted on homeschooling, but they wanted to send him off to private school. How they hoped he inherited their light freckles and sense of humor. MacCready would start to talk about how Duncan had his eyes, and then the conversation would go off from there. As long as Sole kept MacCready calm and distracted, he was able to relax his rugged shoulders and drift off to sleep. 

Preston: Despite his soft demeanor, Preston is battling an arsenal of demons. When Sole learned about his suicidal past, they made sure that they always approached his low mood swings with care. Sole knew those types of feelings don’t always immediately go away, so they made sure whenever they talked to Preston about his depression in a safe space. It sometimes was the chambers of the Castle, or even at the picnic bench behind Sanctuary. Whenever Sole wanted Preston to feel loved, they took the time to get him alone and really listen to his troubles. Whenever Sole squeezed his hand and told him they were proud, Preston couldn’t hide his swelling chest.

Piper: It was no secret that Piper was high-strung. Not only did she have a business to run, but there was a little sister always nipping at her heels. Sometimes the responsibility got overwhelming, even for Diamond City’s greatest reporter. During the times Piper felt like the world was crashing down, Sole got Nick or Ellie to babysit Nat. They would turn on the radio, grab a bottle of (albeit cheap) wine, and let Piper unload on them. The reporter would pace around her office screaming about a false lead or uncooperative interviewee, then take a gulp of her drink. This would go on until Piper felt a little buzzed, and she was forced to retire to the couch.

That was when Sole would soften the mood. Sole would play with Piper’s hair or hum a pre-war song that made Piper sigh in to her friend’s shoulder. “Damn, Blue,” Piper sometimes whispered. “Life’s always a little lighter with my favorite popsicle around.” Her jests didn’t phase Sole, who returned their friend’s joke with an elbow to the arm.

Nick: Nick only likes to show his ruffled feathers around Sole when they’re alone in the office. He’d lean back in his chair, hang his hat on the nearby rack, and blink up at his partner with concerned yellow eyes. Sole knew that was Nick’s way of saying he needed some reassurance that the world wasn’t going to blow up (again).

During Nick’s vulnerable moments, Sole would try to talk about anything positive. Literally anything. Maybe Dogmeat had sat still for his weekly bath, or Shaun drew them a fridge-worthy picture. Nick’s posture would visibly relax, and he would get lost in some happy news for once. Sometimes he wouldn’t notice Sole was trying to calm him down. When he occasionally did catch on, Nick would never call Sole out. Instead, he’d add an anecdote of his own, like how he caught Ellie humming his favorite song as she cleaned the office.

Strong: Strong was easy to piss off, but just as simple to calm down if you knew the right thing to say. Whenever Strong got upset it was obvious to even the dumbest supermutant. He would try to get a rise out of Sole by calling them weak, or charging out ahead of them during a fight. To settle Strong down, Sole just needed to tell him in layman’s terms he wasn’t completing his mission. They couldn’t find the milk of human kindness if he kept acting out.

Strong never actually sought real emotional advice or showed any signs of being discouraged, but if he did Sole would be ready with open arms.

X6-88: Just because X6 is reserved doesn’t mean he doesn’t share his feelings. In fact, X6 is blunt about everything, including his current state of mind. Whenever X6 comes to Sole and says his morale is low, Sole reminds him of what an asset he is to the Commonwealth. How strong his passion for making the future safer helps Sole’s own optimism. When X6 feels useful, he almost always feels better. There was even an occasion where Sole almost heard X6 thank them for a pep talk.

[hauntedbunkbeds]

Day 3: The End is Now

Day 3, Post Apocalyptic or Dystopia: Did the world end with a whimper? Is it a dying human race on a flourishing planet? A nuclear winter? A dystopic regime? It doesn’t have to be bleak! The End is Now

Someone was banging on my door. More than one someone.

“Hold on, y’all,” I cried out in the direction of the living room. I shook out a wrinkled pair of slacks from the floor and pulled them on, followed by an old t-shirt, “JESUS LOVES YOU” emblazoned on the front, “JESUS LOVES YOU” emblazoned on the back (just in case). The knocking grew more frantic.

“I’m coming!” I yelled, losing my patience.

I lost my patience a lot. It was something I was told I needed to work on, but I kept forgetting to work on it. Or, more truthfully, it was something I had no idea how to work on. God made me this way. I am not proud of my outbursts but it’s just a part of who I am. I opened the door aggressively to show that I was not pleased to be interrupted like this.

A crowd of seven or eight people stood on my front porch. Some looked like they had been crying. One man had a bloody nose, just letting it bleed freely onto his dress shirt. Several more people were walking up my gravel driveway toward the house, pointing at me. I smelled something burning.

“You’re the guy with the signs!” one woman said. She wore an oversized sweatshirt and yoga pants and her hands were shaking. “You’re the End of the World guy!”

“I am a preacher,” I said proudly. “And my church is the streets of this sinful city, and my parishioners are anyone with the bravery to hear His word and be saved.”

I did have a church once (a real one, not some dingy street corner) but I lost my patience one day, and then I didn’t have a church any more. I was a preacher at Sunshine Baptist Church for fifteen years, before they asked me to kindly resign. I had called a deacon’s wife a whore and told her she would rot and Hell. I stand by this, but perhaps saying so in my Sunday sermon with her family in attendance was crossing the line, at least that’s what I was told when I was relieved from my position as shepard of that particular flock.

So, I set off on my own.

The whole street corner thing was a temporary solution, you see, just until I could save enough money to start my own church, one that focused on what really mattered: being saved; making sure that when The End of Days comes, you’re on the right side of the battlefield, because it will be a battle. It won’t end with a whimper. I believe that.

“That’s the guy!” someone yelled. “He told me I was going to hell when Doomsday comes!”

“Me too!” yelled someone else.

Now, listen. Like I said, I lose my patience a lot, sure, but I also feel like it does everyone a disservice when you sugar-coat things. Sugar-coating makes things go down easy, sure, but then people don’t even know what they’re swallowing, and next time they get sick, they can’t even help themselves. I tell it like it is because when your pulpit is a street corner, you get one shot. These people aren’t coming back every Sunday. Our lives intersect at one precise moment, and that’s all we have. If I don’t tell you right then that you’re going to burn in hell, you might never hear it. You might never be saved. I take my this responsibility very seriously.

I was used to being yelled at, typically all day long, in small outbursts or with the occasional college student who felt it worth his time to really psychoanalyze me, usually concluding that I was a closet homosexual, while I concluded the same about him. It was a useless exercise. Usually when I got home at night, I would remember that I had promised myself I would be more patient, and I would feel disappointed in myself, but ultimately blame the aggressive, sinful world surrounding me for my outbursts. Someone had to bring tough love to these people. If no one tells you that you’re on a path straight to hell, how will you know to change direction?

The crowd at my doorstep was growing, and behind them the sky was turning an ominous shade of grey that looked ready to open up on them at any second. I heard what might have been a thunder clap or an explosion, and everyone ducked instinctively. It was around 9 AM but getting so dark it could have been the middle of the night.

“Listen, man.” One kid pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He looked college-aged, with thick glasses and skinny jeans. “I don’t like you, but I have to know: How did you know this was going to happen?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, feeling outnumbered and a little worried about the growing group of panicked faces in my yard. “Repent and be saved. I can’t forgive you your sins, only God can. Leave me alone, sinners!”

I tried to take an authoritarian tone, but the sky was so unsettlingly dark, and something was burning, or something was rotting and burning at the same time. It was hard to pin down the stench.

“We’re talking about that!” a woman said, pointing to the sign I would often carry with me when I preached. It was tall and narrow, containing on it a list of the many sins that would need to be repented if you wished to be with God when the End of Days came (e.g. sodomy, playing violent video games, drinking, swearing, etc.). I had hand-painted the entire thing, something I was very proud of.

“Yesterday you told me I was going to hell,” she said. She wore a business suit and carried a briefcase which had fallen open, her papers scattered all over my lawn. She didn’t seem to notice.

“You told me I would burn in hell for being a slut,” she continued, “which is so problematic for so many reasons but I’m not even going to get into it now because then you said something super ominous like ‘The end is nigh’ and I was like, ‘Oh yeah, when is nigh?’ and you pointed to THAT stupid sign.”

Everyone turned toward the sign, which was over eight feet tall and contained, in addition to the list of applicable sins for admittance to hell, a section along the bottom that read as follows:

REPENT FOR THE END IS NIGH

JUNE 03, 2018 YEAR OF OUR LORD

DOOMSDAY, JUDGEMENT DAY

SINNERS GO TO HELL

I glanced down at my Casio digital watch, though I already knew what it would say: 9:03 AM 06/03/2018.

Let me explain.

Any good salesman knows that nothing makes a sales pitch more convincing than a sense of urgency. I can yell all day and night about sin and being saved, but who’s really going to listen if they feel like they have all the time in the world to repent? So I picked up my bible one night, crunched some numbers, and settled on June 3rd, 2018. Was I sure the world was going to end on June 3rd, 2018? No. But I was sure that it wouldn’t hurt anybody if I were wrong. What’s the worst that could happen? I couple people turn their sinful lives around faster than they would have otherwise? It felt harmless to me. In the spirit of full disclosure, I had not considered what it would mean if I were right.

Now, here they all were: The gays, the fornicators, the gluttons, the thieves, all right on my doorstep. I suppose in many ways this situation was ideal: I preached, I was heard, I was proven right, and my flock came to me in their hour of need. I had grown so used to being ignored and spat on, I hadn’t stopped to consider what I would even do if someone actually agreed with me, wanted to follow me. The grey clouds above us had begun a slow spiral, like a twister could drop from it at any moment. In the distance, screams could be heard.

I must have looked confused because the man with the bloody nose spoke up.

“A crack opened in the streets,” he said, his voice shaking. “It’s swallowing people up. There are...there are...”

“Demons,” a woman finished for him. “Literal demons. They’re eating people, tearing them limb from limb.”

“How did you know it would come today?” someone cried up at me. “And how do we get saved? Please, help us!”

A chorus of others echoed the plea.

“Hang on a second,” I said. I retreated inside and closed the door behind me, twisting the deadbolt.

I inhaled slowly through my nose, exhaled slowly from my mouth. I learned this technique from a woman at Sunshine Baptist who worked with children who suffered from anxiety. She told me it might help me with losing my patience. Only this time, I wasn’t losing my patience. My heart raced, but with joy, with excitement. My flock was here, they needed me, at last. I pulled my bible from the side table beside my couch and took another deep breath before turning around and undoing the deadbolt.

“Showtime,” I whispered to myself, a smile creeping across my face. I pulled open the door and faced my new parishioners, their faces screwed up with fear. This was my moment. I cleared my throat.

“Repent, sinners!” I boomed. “For The End is...um, Now!”