#joe!john

Have you guys seen this?

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader, Joe Mazzello (platonic)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,921

Summery: Ben and (Y/N) are visiting Joe in New York during spooky season, and insists the group celebrates Halloween properly, by going to a haunted house. 

Requested by @killer-queen-87​. Like this? Request your own! No ideas? Here’s a prompt list to help you get started! 

Masterlist

Glimmer (Chapter 1) : John Deacon x Reader 

A/N: This oneshot is actually going to be the beginning of a little 4-5 chapter John x Reader Mini-series! It has nothing to do with CLGOL, but I have some other asks for John oneshots that seem like they could all be worked into the same storyline, so I figured I’d do that. This one is for you, my love @deakysmisfire -C

Liliah39 Masterlist

Word Count: 3.3K

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September, 1976:

You and the boys were performing in Hyde Park tonight, news stations stuck in every corner waiting to grab one of the five of you in hopes to get a new piece of information about the band. You were sitting in your dressing room with your hair and makeup just finished as you slipped into your first performance outfit, sighing as you once again were upset by John’s absence.

 Nothing would ever compare to the heart wrenching feeling you experienced a little over a month ago when you wandered back to yours and John’s hotel room after a crazy party following a concert to unlock the door and find him drunkenly fucking another girl. 

A girl who looked like you.

 Same hair color. 

Same skin tone. 

Even same body shape. 

It was like an out of body experience as you watched him pounding into her from behind as she was bent over the bed. A gasp of disgust and heartbreak left your throat as you slammed the door, tears flooding out of your eyes as his movement came to a halt, head turning to look at you in the entryway, his eyes growing wide, immediately pulling out of the girl and stumbling to find his pants. He looked at you. He looked at the girl. He looked at you again. 

“Fuck.” He muttered. “Get out. Get the fuck out of here now!” He screamed at her. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

“I thought I could get you to think I was her! I wanted to know what it was like! I’ve been following you for years now, and you still chose her over me!” She cried as she pulled on a shirt, slamming the door behind her.

 “I don’t even know your name!” He slurred. 

“John,” You shuddered. “What the fuck?”

“Y/N please, I didn’t mean it,” he pleaded, slurring his words as he stumbled over to you.

“You drink too much.” You managed to get out as you hurriedly gathered your belongings to get out of his hotel room as soon as possible. 

“Baby, you know this isn’t normal for me,” he cried. “I think she drugged me.” 

You let out a laugh in disbelief at his seemingly absurd comment. “Yeah, right John. I know how the other three are. I can’t believe I thought you were different.” You cried. 

“Y/N, Baby, please. We’ve been together for three years, Baby please don’t do this,” he cried as he sat on the edge of the bed, face in his hands as he realized what just happened.

“I didn’t do anything, John.” You retorted. “Never have, either. I’m leaving because of what you just did.” By the way you glared at him, if looks could kill he’d be dead. 

“You’re leaving me?” He cried, springing to his feet.

 “Yes, John, what else to you fucking expect me to do? I just walked in to see you fucking another girl!” You cried as you ran to the door. 

“Wait!” he said, grabbing your wrist. “I thought she was you.” He cried. 

“You’re pathetic.” You spat at him, opening the door and slammed it in his face. 

You spent the next couple tour dates in your cousin Roger’s room until they could book ahead enough for five rooms instead of four. When you got to Roger’s room that night, you were a crying mess with your belongings spilling out of your arms, Roger quickly kicking out the girl he had in his room to pull you inside and find out what had you so upset. You dropped your clothes right inside the door as he pulled you in for a tight hug, letting you cry out your heart wrenching cries until the account of what had just happened came spilling out of you.

 He grew tense, the blood boiling in his veins, as he remembered what he told John all those years ago. “If you hurt her, I’ll fucking kill you.” 

Roger broke himself of your embrace, deaf to your cries trying to get him to stop as you watched from the doorway as Roger burst into John’s hotel room. You heard him pin John against the wall, as he screamed, “What the fuck is wrong with you? That’s my cousin! She’s like my baby sister, John! What the fuck?”

John just cried the whole time, “I thought it was her, I promise Roger. I’d never do anything to hurt her. I love her. Please, Rog.” as Roger beat him senseless, Brian quickly running down the hall and pulling him off of John as Freddie called an ambulance. It wasn’t bad, but Roger had broken his nose and gave him two bad black eyes. The band had never come so close to breaking up. You were the fourth to join the band per Roger’s request due to your all around musicianship at singing, piano and guitar, but they still needed a bassist, and so John joined a week or so after you had. 

For a couple days, you and Roger talked about breaking off and starting something with just the two of you called The Taylor’s, but after some very heated discussions with the other three, the five of you decided you could all act like adults for the well-being of the band and your fans. 

Of course the whole thing was covered by the media- they ate it up like it was candy. Everyone knew the next morning what had happened, John had cheated on you and Roger beat him up for it, you and Roger almost leaving the band. Your names were at the top of every newspaper. Of course John had been inconsolable throughout the entire process, Freddie told you he cried every night, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him, because you were still hurting too. When John was in the hospital, they had done some blood tests and found out that the girl had, in fact, drugged him. But no matter how many times Freddie, Roger, and Brian told you, trying to explain that it really wasn’t his fault, you just couldn’t get the image of him fucking another girl out of your mind. You missed him terribly; were crying yourself to sleep every night too, but you just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t go back to him. 

Now, in your dressing room at Hyde Park, you prepared for another show when you heard a knock at the door, hearing your cousin call your name on the other side.

 “Come on in Rog,” you smiled, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “Just the person I needed to see right now.”

 “Yeah? Must be that cousinly intuition thing.” He smirked. “How’re you doing with the whole thing?”

“Oh, um, I’m alright.” You sadly smiled, knowing he was talking about John. “Miss him. Don’t want to, but I do.” 

“I know.” He said, kissing the top of your head. “Just wanted to warn you, there’s a whole swarm of reporters waiting for you to come out right outside your door; all of ‘em wanna hear from the lady of the hour.” He smiled.

 “Okay. Tell them I’ll be out in a minute,” you said, waving him off as you hurriedly did your last minute preparations.

 “Oh,” he said, just as he placed his hand on the doorknob, “I can’t tell you what I’m talking about, but just so you know, I was out voted and I’m sorry in advance.” He said sincerely as he slipped out the door, leaving you majorly confused. 

You finished getting ready and grabbed a couple bottles of water as you left the room, immediately engulfed by the flashing of cameras and dozens of reporters yelling your name.

 “Everyone shut the fuck up for a moment!” You screamed, smiling at your ability to control the crowd. “I’ll answer three questions, so make them good. You.” You decided, pointing at an NBC reporter.

 “Miss Taylor, what made you all decide to do a free concert? People are predicting this to be the biggest turn out for a concert yet, with over 150,000 people. Does that scare you?”

 “Oh I don’t know, it’s something we’ve been talking about for a while.” You smiled. “We love the idea of giving back to our fans, so we thought doing a free concert would be really nice. And no, the amount of people doesn’t scare me one bit; no matter if it was 50 people or 150,000, we’d still all put in the same amount of effort to our performance. To me, the number is just a beautiful representation of how many people we have affected with our music.” 

The journalists furiously scribbled down what you had said on their notes, once again screaming your name. 

“Alright…” you searched. “You?” You said, pointing at one to your right a few rows back. 

“I know that you’ve done some modeling with Prada outside of Queen. Can you give us any hints about the new winter collection? What made you start modeling? Any new projects in that aspect?” 

And then you saw it. 

Saw him. 

John was leaning against the will on the other side of the hallway trying to inconspicuously listen in on your interview, hoping to hear some bits of new information about your life. 

So you decided to have a little fun. 

The crowd quieted as you’d started your response. “Well I must say, I honestly think the modeling thing is luck. The modeling industry is extremely particular about who they allow to model and such, Roger and I are just lucky that the Taylor’s have such fortunate genes. Queen’s my main focus, but I must admit it is a nice hobby.” You laughed. “But I’m afraid there’s nothing I can tell you about the new Prada collection! I honestly don’t know much either. I went in for a fitting when we arrived back to London last week, and I will be walking the runway at the debut of the winter collection, but that’s really all I can tell you now.” You smiled. “Did I answer everything?” 

“Almost,” the reporter smiled back. “I was wondering if you have any new projects with modeling coming up?” 

“Oh, yes! Absolutely. And I think I can actually tell you about this one too,” you started, smirking to see that John was still eagerly listening into your interview. What you were about to say wasn’t 100% true, although you had received a call from them about being the model of the month in February for Valentine’s Day, but you hadn’t accepted it yet. Oh well, you thought, a public acceptance to their offer is still an acceptance. I can always turn it down later. Here goes nothing. “Well, I'm going to be the model on the cover of February’s Playboy Magazine!” You smirked, noticing the shock on John’s face; he almost choked on his beer. “None of that playmate stuff, just the model on the cover. But hey, it’s a big leap for my modeling career and I’m excited for that to be going other places.” 

The reporters took no time to start screaming your name again as you chose one to your left, noticing the look on his face as he was about to ask his question. You could tell what this one would be about. “Ms. Taylor, we haven’t really heard much of anything about it for a month, so I was wondering if you could tell us how things are between you and John?” 

You froze. 

Do I tell him the truth, about how I’ve been a mess every night and miss him terribly, with John standing right there?

“Well, it’s been hard, but we’re handling it like adults. But I mean, honestly, I couldn’t care less about what he’s doing. Only talk to him if I absolutely have to, which isn’t often. Not that I want to, anyways.” You said coldly, shooting daggers his way. He heard everything, and it was too much for him. He walked away with his head down and tears in his eyes, and in that moment you almost felt bad. 

Almost.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The concert was going great, the five of you playing completely in sync the entire night. You’d taken lead vocals on Flick of the Wrist, ‘39, and Stone Cold Crazy, and took lead vocals for sections of Sweet Lady, Killer Queen and Liar, but other than that provided some harmonies and played guitars with Brian. You just finished the finale, In The Lap of the Gods (revisited), and walked to the front of the stage to take your bows with the other four, but no one walked up with you. Roger stayed at the drums, Freddie at the piano, and Brian and John in their usual places, leaving you and the crowd majorly confused. You watched the audience looking around with majorly confused looks, the one on your face surely matching theirs. You noticed a section to the left started chanting 

“One more song!” 

“I’ve got no idea what the fuck is going on either, darlings,” you exclaimed, earning a laugh from the crowd. You spun around to look at the boys, Roger mouthing, “I’m sorry,” with a sympathetic look as John hesitantly took the microphone out of his stand and stepped toward the front of the stage. He was nervous, and now you were too.

 “Hi, everyone,” he hesitantly smiled, his shyness taking over for a moment. The crowd cheered him on, eager to hear from the member they usually heard from the least. “I, um- I just wanted your attention for a moment. I’m sure you all know what happened about a month ago…” his voice trailed off, the crowd silencing; eager for the next piece of juicy information surrounding the scandal. “but I just wanted to personally acknowledge it, I’ve been a recluse throughout the entire thing, and quite honestly know it was the worst mistake of my life. I’m sure you all saw the papers that said how I was drugged, which my doctors have proven was true, but that’s not my reason for speaking right now. I think it’ll be a little more apparent what I’m trying to get at after we do this, but right now we’d like to end with something we don’t usually end with. Enjoy.” He smiled, Freddie starting the much too recognizable piano intro to that song.

 John’s song.

 The song that was in dedication to you.

 You’re My Best Friend.

 Tears stung your eyes at the gesture, knowing what would be coming when the song came to an end. It made sense why Roger had been apologizing to you profusely all day for something that hadn’t even happened yet: he didn’t know how you’d react, and quite honestly you didn’t know how to react either. You watched to the side the entire time as this was completely unexpected to you, trying to wrap your head around the decision you knew you were going to have to make at the end of the song. 

“Oh, you’re my best friend.” Freddie ended, John once again grabbing the microphone as he walked over to you, taking your hand in his and bringing you to center stage. 

“Y/N, I'm so sorry for what I did. Like I said earlier, Love, it’s the biggest regret of my life. Each day without you feels like an eternity; I haven’t had one single happy moment since you left me. Believe me, I know I deserved it, and I know I honestly don’t deserve you to come back to me, even though it wasn’t entirely my fault what happened. I think you know it wasn’t my fault too, and if I wasn’t drugged, I never in a million years would ever have done anything to hurt you, Love. I wouldn’t then, and I wouldn’t now. So, Y/N, would you please make me the happiest man in the world, and be my girlfriend again?” 

The world spun around you as the crowd started to chant, “Take him back! Take him back!”. Over 150,000 people rooting for you to take him back. The answer seemed simple, didn’t it? It really wasn’t his fault, and you knew that, but you just couldn’t get that image of him with her out of your head; couldn’t remove the fear of being hurt again, until you saw it. 

Saw the glimmer in his eye. 

A little tear fall down his cheek, because he saw the uncertainty in your eyes. 

But as you looked in his eyes, you saw the man you fell in love with all those years ago, saw the sincerity in his words. He truly didn’t mean it; he really had been drugged. And then instinct took over as you connected your lips with his. The crowd roared in cheers of happiness and approval, John’s arms wrapping around your waist as you put your hands on his cheeks. Tears of happiness rolled out of both of your eyes as the two of you separated for a moment, John quietly whispering, “I didn’t think you were gonna say yes,” before you hurriedly pressed your lips to his again. The world seemed to dissolve around you, the 150,000 audience members disappearing to leave only you and John in the arena. The other four walked up to take their bows with the two of you as God Save the Queen started, John’s arms never leaving your waist as the two of you smiled at each other the entire time. The other three were ecstatic; especially Roger, because he was so fearful that you’d be mad at him for trying to help John behind your back. All three of them patted him on the back, congratulating the two of you for getting back together as they walked past where the two of you stood just off the stage; Freddie admitting that over the last month or so you were both a complete mess without each other. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” John admitted between kisses. 

“Believe me, I’ve missed you too, Deaky.” You gushed. “I was just scared, didn’t wanna get hurt again,” you admitted. 

“I promise you won’t, I, I didn’t- I wasn’t…”

 “I know,” you said, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “I know.”

 “I’d never, ever do anything to hurt you, Love. God, I’ve only been able to think about you, it’s been driving me mad. I’ve missed your smile, your laugh, your voice, your hugs, your snarky comments,” he laughed as he tickled you sides. It was true, you’d been missing the same things about him, but there was one thing he hadn’t said he was missing. The thing that made you leave him.

 “What about… the other thing?” You seductively said, twirling his hair in your finger. 

“God,” he groaned. “I’ve missed that the most, couldn’t even get myself to try with a groupie. It’s not worth it if it’s not you.” He said, attaching his lips to your neck. You were looking to tease him, make him admit how much he needed you. 

“So… you’ve missed me screaming your name every night?” You laughed. 

“More than anything,” he shyly admitted. “You have no idea how many nights I got thinking of you, then had to look at old polaroids I had of you just to, you know?” 

You knew. 

Just to get himself off. 

“Then what are we still doing here?” You smirked, hands wandering dangerously close to the top of his pants as he scooped you up in his arms making you laugh at his inability to control himself. 

“ ‘Cmon, Love. We’re going back to my hotel room a little early.” He smiled. 

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thats it guys! I hope you enjoyed!!! I think the name of the fic will make more sense as more chapters come out; I am going to do aesthetics and q&a’s and all that like I normally do for CLGOL. Today is gonna be a catch up day for me with some other things I’ve posted, so i think im gonna be posting like 3 aeshetics today haha. -C

I can’t be the only one who is doing this

.

I should probably study

I have a test today