#priest! joe mazzello

[theborhapqueenarchives]

Deleted fic masterlist (as of 6/29/22)

Queen

Bohemian Rhapsody Cast

Gwilym Lee

(18+) What Happens Next by frcmthefires: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 (PARTIALLY MISSING)

Bad Day by frcmthefires

Loving In The Dark by frcmthefires

(18+) Lust Is A Sin / Lust Is Still A Sin by bowiequeen (priest!gwil)

(18+) Game On by bowiequeen

MISSING

Brianmayplease AO3 (some fics are missing)

Joe Mazzello

Harvest Moon chapter 1 (Eugene Sledge)

[ursoself-satisfying]

My Sweet Lord (ch2)

hes a lil young here for when how old hes supposed to  be when this stry takes place but its hard to find a non adorable n giggly gif of him lol 

Chapter 2 - I’m On Fire 

Priest!Joe Mazzello x F!Reader, NSFW, ~3.5k words

My Sweet Lord masterlist 

A/N: go listen to holy ghost by modern baseball while u read too cus its rly good,,, anyway this one is a lil dif!!! its a lil bg on the town a lil scene setting n its all about joe now!!! 

special thanks given in this post!! you can find whole accompanying laylists there as well not just single associated songs!!!

Warning(s): sex, religious guilt, some scary images, mentions of ejaculate, uuhhh body horror,,,, i think thats it besides maybe kinda disrespecting ur elders lol ??? 

Father Mazzello had been distracted, to say the least. His newest regular was different, in the simplest terms, and drew his attention in the most tantalizing ways. See, the Oranges was a retiree town in the middle of nowhere, a Bermuda Triangle of the American Midwest. People arrive and they never leave, usually because they die. It was a bit ironic but very fitting to him that the epitome of classic American ideals, though contrasting, collided with ancient human instinct to create this town where the elderly are unequivocally cared for by the young, who remain the bones of the town and keep everything running. You could live and die in the Oranges without ever even leaving them.

The Father had always thought the name was deceiving. “The Oranges” sounded like a small suburb in the wet, hot, muggy parts of Florida, not an old folks zone in middle America. There was some part of him that would always dislike living in a town named “The Oranges”. Maybe it was the priestly side of him, feeling dishonest in their presentation when confronted with their reality, meaning they did not and never have grown oranges there. Maybe it was the sunny signposts standing crookedly beside the worn yellow houses, paint peeling and fences fading, showcasing the poor upkeep of people’s own homes.

He was too harsh, though, because a town, he knew, was not its structures but rather its people, its community. The Oranges had no shortage of smiles, even if they mostly consisted of secondary sets of dentures. That’s what made her smile so different. It was real. Of course, that wasn’t the only reason she stood out, no, it was also her legs, her thighs leading up to her hips, two very real hips, and a waist that would fit so well in his hands and then up a little further where his hands could perfectly cup-

The pencil snapped with a shock and the man blinked at his scribbles, unintelligible now that he’s been broken from his stupor. The lead tip of his pencil rolled in a curved line off his journal then off his desk and he watched it tiredly before glancing at the clock. It was nearly 1 a.m. The clergyman sat back and huffed, taking a moment to assess himself.

His hand had wandered to the crux of his black slacks and he groaned at the hardness beneath the cloth. His groan was unintentional but a needed release as he couldn’t “release” how he really wanted to. His thoughts were clouded with this girl- this girl- He barely knew her name and here he was, fantasizing about her simply because she was the only eligible woman he’d laid his eyes on in nearly a year, or probably more accurately over a year.

‘Why should that even matter to you?’ He asked himself. ‘Why should it matter that she’s eligible? She’s probably not. She probably has a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, even.’ Joe couldn’t help but groan again at the thought of her, pressed against someone else all the ways he wanted her to press against him.

‘Stop it!’ Some voice in the back of his mind hissed. ‘You’re a priest! It doesn’t matter if she’s unavailable! You’re the one who’s unavailable! You took an oath! You made a covenant with the Lord!’ If Joe were a man to curse, this is when he would curse. Instead, he simply moaned in compliance and gave into his conscience, sighing and giving his erection one last squeeze before sliding his hand back up his body, resting it on his open journal. He ripped out the page he’d been working on, the one describing his ‘newest parishioner’ in exquisite detail. No one would ever see that. No one could ever know he experienced such temporal thoughts. He was a priest, after all, he had to set a good example.

He spent the next twenty minutes in a headspace he despised, the one he used to eradicate the want that grew between his legs. It was images of the women in the first row of the church with teeth yellow and denture line visible, their smiles wide and slippery. The men in the back few pews have spots on their balding heads that are sometimes protruding and have hairs only growing there and somehow nowhere else. Joe focused on that, on the lumps and aches they vocalized, on the scratching of their smoke warped voices and the pores like pools on their noses. He thought of the way the hands of the mass shook when they went to place money in the collection basket, the yellow of their nails and the chipped polish on the manicured claws. Their skin was saggy and discolored and their hair is matted and fake and he thinks about what they must look like under their musty Sunday clothes-

He’s soft again, his pants no longer straining and he breathes a sigh of relief, maybe a quiet thanks to God. The priest does his best not to let his mind wander as he lets his feet carry him to his bed where he disrobes, definitely not drifting to imagine how her eager hands would feel pulling his trousers down, nails scraping down his thighs- Joe forced himself to turn the mental image of her tight knuckles to one of chapped and wrinkled ones to keep himself calm. As much as he dislikes subjecting himself to these thoughts, he tells himself he does it for the Lord. The Lord will keep him strong in these times of weakness, he tells himself, in these hours of temptation. He slid into his bed in briefs and an undershirt, letting the softness of his sheets smooth over his skin as it envelopes him and he’s whisked away into a few hours of much-needed rest and revelation.

Your hands had never been softer. It was the only definable thought in Joe’s head when you pushed up his thin shirt. The fabric bunched up over his stomach and you lowered your head to lick a long, wet stripe up from the happy trail disappearing down his shorts.

You were naked, straddling him, hips and thighs curved and soft and outlined by the moonlight that shone in from the cracks in the curtains behind you. The luminescence bounces off the soft tufts of your hair that bunched when your nose hit the bottom of his shirt and you kissed the middle space of his chest reverently. Joe was so wrapped in this moment that he asked no questions. His mind was muddled with lust and want. If you met his needy gaze, you would physically see the fog you caused in his brain, shown in the glazed over eyes that tracked your every move. It was like looking in the windows of a rocking teenager’s car, all steam, and sex behind them.

Your hips ground unconsciously on his crotch where his arousal was obvious and painful and he couldn't keep in his moan. The contact was too much for his near virginal state to handle. Your body, luscious and young and soft, and so easily defiled. It was so sinful. It caused a fire to burn within his loins, reigniting one that had long been a dormant pile of ashes before you came along. Every sway of your breasts as you rose your body slightly from his was another match stricken and thrown to maintain this burn.

Every clench of your thighs around his waist was kindle to feed it. Your undeniable silhouette was gasoline, your ass weighing on his lap was logs and paper, probably journal pages he’s written and hidden of you, but the way you looked down at him, the way your eyes fluttered and your lashes fell, the way your mouth puckered and curled and glistened, that was the first page of the book to burn. One by one, page by page, you would rid him of his religion, strip him of belief until all that existed was you.

And he was fine with that.

Again, Joe felt the contact of your soft pussy pressing over his aching cock and his hand instinctively reached for your hair, tangling his fingers in your locks while his other five went to squeeze at your thigh. Every desperate touch from him was a message; ‘You’re gorgeous,’ ‘please touch me,’ ‘I need you.’ He was practically tracing the letters into your leg as his hand slid down to your knee then back up to your waist. He was still laying down while you were straddling him and grinding against him, occasionally letting your hands wander, pushing up his shirt and licking the skin you could reach without stretching. You had leaned forward to suck at his neck and the holy man about died and ascended to heaven when he felt your tits on his chest and your lips on his neck simultaneously. Your nipples were hard, enough so he felt them drag over his exposed skin when you arched your back and left bruises at his jaw.

Being so focused on your lips, Joe had lost track of your hands. His were on your ass, groping and kneading with silent adoration, but yours had moved from mussing his hair to tugging at his briefs. The man gasped when your hips left his and then, with a swift and sudden motion, his underwear was yanked down and you giggled. Joe, however, did not giggle. The exposure was shocking and the cold was unwelcome, making his cock twitch and sending a shiver up his spine. It was in this moment that Joe finally took in your image, the bite of the cold shaking him from his focus on just how you felt.

All his other senses were hazy and the man of the Lord was overwhelmed. You were glowing. Your hair was feathered and voluptuous. Your skin was velveteen and your body belonged in a temple, deserving of an altar and endless worship. He would have sworn he witnessed a halo form around you as well, a golden line connecting one shoulder to the other in a shining arch. Your smile was soft and distracting, but his gaze persisted down your body full of admiration and curiosity. Your chest was supple and your stomach plush, just like your hips and thighs, all there for him to appreciate.

He sat up to improve his view, allowing himself to be in much closer proximity to you, able now to bask in your scent, sweet and innocent. Then he laid his larger hands on your breasts for the first time. He was almost worried the metal of his rings would surprise you, being cold on your hot skin, but you had no reaction. Kneading with slow gentle movements, he slid his thumb just barely over your nipples, hard and sensitive for him.

Somewhere in the back of his throat, a question was lost, a search for approval that got stuck on its way out, but it didn’t seem to matter as your constant blissful smile was encouraging enough. He didn’t question any of it.

Quiet hums vibrated in your throat and your half-lidded gaze motivated the priest to feel more of your body, squeezing at your waist and ass again and leaning forward to drop unpracticed kisses to the valley of your chest. You laced your fingers in the back of his hair, cradling his skull and holding him to your skin, but when his thumb brushed over your clit, you stopped him. His wrist was caught in your grip in a quick and unexpected move that stopped him from further touching you.

His breath hitched, fearing he’d done something wrong with the way your eyes bore into him, cutting through the silence and bringing him to the reality of what you were doing. Joe felt like he could only inhale, nothing coming out when he tried to push his breath away. He swallowed dryly and your expression softened ever so slightly, dropping his hand to instead wrap your digits around his cock and maneuver it to swipe between your folds. The wetness gathered in your sex and on his tip made for easy entry as you lowered yourself slowly, lashes fluttering and mouth falling open. The man choked on a protest but swallowed it with a moan when his head was sheathed in you, warm and tight and ideal.

Joe couldn't focus on anything. It was all happening so fast for him, a blur of skin and sweat. You bounced on him expertly and he fell limp at your abilities, a sputtering mess as your buoyant tits mesmerized him. Your hot, heavy breaths rained down on him and showered him with increased want, but he was unable to act upon it, struck dumb by a higher force, and that force was the look you gave him, accompanied by a breathy sigh and a smile when you settled fully on his shaft. He hadn’t realized but he had been holding his breath as you rose slid down him again, audibly slick and aroused. At that moment, the world vanished from around him, all fuzz and static, and all he knew was you and the way you felt, sleeved around him perfectly, undulating and flexing with an ever subtle thrust of his, impulsive and quick, needy and natural.

Your speed increased suddenly though, and the priest, barely holding on as it was, couldn’t contain himself. Speaking in tongues of love, he groped at you, searching for an anchor to his physical form as an ethereal feeling washed over him, his orgasm imminent and monumental. It was an out of body experience for the servant of the Lord, greater than any religious bliss he’d yet to experience. He could see himself beneath you, his face contorted as yours glowed with elation and he came inside you. He could feel you pulsing around him and heavenly choirs invaded his ears, the stimulation shrouding him in your presence.

What occurred next was warped and surreal. He was still inside you, coming down but still hard and you were still smiling but the air turned sinister and smelled suddenly not of your scent but of sulfur and lavender. You turned into a shadow over him, no longer a source of light, but rather the opposite; a source of darkness. That’s when your skin began to slip from its place on your skull. Melting like wax, he thought, but his comparison was wrong, so wrong because there were no hot drips hitting his stomach and your hands didn’t begin to pool at his bellybutton. No, instead your soft hands turned to leather and the familiar spots of discoloration and sun exposure began to blossom across your shoulders and chest. He could see your veins, one by one, rise up on your skin on your straining legs. Your breasts sagged and your stomach folded over. Your smile went wider as your lips thinned and eye crinkled, every line on your face growing deeper until he felt the first wisps of your fading white hair fall on his legs. Your nails began to dig into his lower stomach as they grew and then he fell the first few cold objects hit his heated skin. One by one, two by two, teeth, rotted black and yellow, bounced off his chest when you leaned forward.

Joe wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. Maybe he was already, he couldn't tell. By now he assumed his vocal chord had been removed sometime in the night because, still, nothing came out. He tried, he forced all the air in his lungs out his tense lips like a coastal storm blowing in. He was the winds and the waves and the crashing sounds of ocean on rock and sand as he struggled to break free from the growing weight of the body still on top of him, still around him; shaking, twisting, tears streaming down his red face. You were death holding him down, boney legged and saggy skinned, every part of you being pulled with more strength every second towards your home in hell. He didn’t know what to do with his hands so they flailed at his sides as yours slid up his body with the same disturbing gummy, black smile looming over him and all he wanted at that moment was for it all to stop and disappear.

The sweat on his forehead rolled down the sides of his face and collided with the tears that were apparently seeping down his cheeks as well. The tears were hot and the sweat was cold and Joe’s entire face felt numb and damp, and it was. His whole body was. His undershirt was soaked through and his neck shiny and dotted with perspiration. He shot up out of bed, sitting upright with wide eyes as he shook as he frantically assessed his surroundings. The desk was still messy, his journal still out, the lamp was off, the window closed and the door locked. Fear still seeped through his bloodstream and ran from his face to his toes. It was electric emotion that coursed through his body, one that he couldn’t shake and that left his hair standing on end. It was deep beneath is skin, a nestled sense of discomfort. No amount of his unconscious physical shakes could rid himself of it.

He rocked back and forth on his bed for a while, the images of his dream never leaving his head, haunting him like some cliche victorian ghost. His tremors subsided but he wouldn’t be going back to sleep that not, not after that. The drastic shift had gouged a wedge in his heart, one that was now filled with questions and doubts, second thoughts. The fire in his loins burned brighter and hotter and blacker, smoke rising from it in dangerous, polluting amounts.

Upon the onset of further physical discomfort in the form of a cold patch on his briefs, he opted to spend the rest of his night in the shower, not only washing the shameful premature ejaculate from his underwear, but also his dream from his body, the dream he could only assume was a punishment for his earlier sinful thoughts. On one hand, he was washing her touch away, her soft, sweet, innocent touch that couldn’t be wrong, but on the other hand, the abomination that she’d been warped into left a film over him that didn’t seem to wash off.

Joe believed in signs and symbols. He believed that God spoke to you in natural ways, every day. The advertisement on the bus next to you at that red light this morning or the constant re-emergence of one specific suggestion throughout your day, seeing the same person everywhere you went, it was a message from God. “There are no such things as accidents or coincidences,” he preaches, “everything here God has preordained. It is predestined and meant to be.” He thought of her, meeting her and her timing. “Trust that this is the Lord’s will.”

This must be a sign. He thought of all the examples of prophetic dreams in the Bible, all the times the Lord has used this outlet to speak to his servants. Joseph, Jacob, Daniel, Solomon, Nebuchadnezzar- But what did it mean this time? The object of his unsanctioned affection decaying on top of his, immediately post-coitus. It scared him, the implications of it, but it also scared him that he had the dream at all, if he was honest. It was intense. Not only was it erotic, but also scarring. What did it mean for him and his faith? Part of him wanted to brush it aside and ignore any allusions his subconscious was trying to get to him. He wanted to, for once, turn to science to deny the religious answers to his issue, telling himself it was just a projection of some kind of worry, but that would mean he would have to admit to himself he was worried about her, around her, because of her. He would have to acknowledge the effect she had on him and he didn’t want to. He wouldn’t give in to this moment of weakness, so instead he scrubbed his soiled underpants at three in the morning and tried to wash the nightmare from his mind with Shout and bar shampoo, ignoring the heavy dread building in his chest as the hours counted down to Sunday morning, when he would face his congregation of elders and one woman he couldn’t ban from his mind if he wanted to.

He fell asleep at approximately 4:30 in the morning, face flat on the side of his tub, one hand caked in dried soap and the other clinging desperately to his still clearly stained boxer briefs. He didn’t dream this time, and for the first time he was ever aware of it, he was grateful he didn’t.

[rottenvicious]

smol compilation of gwil and joe pics which i collected and find so goddamn funny

PLS ADD MORE ✨

[alcordraws]

A thing for the priest au I spent w a y too long working on jghghghghjf

@a-small-fuck-you look! I finished it!!

[disasterdeacy]

Moonlight Mother John Deacon x Reader Preview

Warning: sin sin sin sin sin

A/N: here’s a little preview for the John breeding kink fic I’m working on atm. At the rate I’m writing, it should be up and published around 2PMCST today, March 21. This is just a small snippet of what’s to come, bc trust me I’m almost 2k words in and I’m not even to the actual SIN sin yet. I would also just like to take this moment to not only apologize to my mother and God, but also to poor Mr. John Richard Deacon born August 19, 1951. Y’all just enjoy the preview lol

—————————————————————

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.

—————————————————————

Plz send me a priest thx

Also if you wanna be tagged in the actual story when I get it posted just let me know!

@itsametaphorbriansblog

@deakysgirl

@localspacegod

@greenie-frog

@sweetdayme4427

[benhardypout-archive]

He aware, he watch, he posts!

Love these boys so much!

Gwil being the best man for the couple.

[omgsquee2001]

I Really Love You: Joe Mazzello x Fem! Reader

@borhapgirlforlife19 said:  Can I request a fluffy Joe Mazzello x fem. reader wedding onshot and reader reflects back on when Joe and her met in college and how their relationship progressed from there that led to their wedding day and they also have written their own vows for the wedding as well and after the wedding have their first dance as a married couple?

I absolutely love this idea! 

~~~~

[Y/C/C] = Your Career Choice

[M/N] = Mom’s Name

[D/N] = Dad’s Name

[N/N] = Nickname(if any)

~~~~

Butterflies filled [Y/N]’s belly as her mother, [M/N], Mother-In-Law, Virginia, and her Sister-In-Law, Mary all helped to put the finishing touches to her hair. 

She smoothed out the wrinkles of her dress as she sat on the stool. 

A fond smile came to her face as she remembered the very first time she met the quirky, sweet and loving Joe Mazzello. 

~Flashback~

[Y/N] was 20 years old, attending the University of Southern California. She was a Sophomore studying [Y/C/C]. She was just starting her first day and walking into the doors, when suddenly, she ran into someone, letting out an audible, ‘oof!’ as she hit the ground, her books and utensils flying across the ground. 

“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry!” A voice said. A hand was extended out towards her, offering to help her up. [Y/N] looked at the owner of the hand and her breath was caught in her throat. The owner of the hand extended to her was extremely handsome. He had curly brown hair on top of his head and soft hazel eyes. “A-are you okay?” The man asked again. Shaking herself out of her trance, she smiled and took the hand. 

“U-um, yeah. I’m fine, thank you.” She said. The man quickly knelt down and started picking up the stuff that [Y/N] had dropped in the collision. [Y/N] quickly knelt down as well. Their hands accidentally brushed as they both went to pick up a [Y/C/C] text book. [Y/N] felt a spark run through her hand at their touch. They both chuckled awkwardly as they stood up, [Y/N] brushing some hair behind her ears and the man awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Um, I’m Joe. Joe Mazzello.” Joe said, extending his hand in greeting. [Y/N] smiled and took his hand, shaking it. 

“I’m [Y/N].

~~~~~

[Y/N] took a deep breath as she tightened her hold on her dad’s arm. [D/N] looked down at his daughter and smiled in pride and love. 

“You ready for this, [N/N]?” He asked. [Y/N] looked at her father with a smile. 

“Honestly, no.” She said. The music started playing and the doors opened. Tears came to her eyes as she saw Joe standing at the alter, waiting for her. A smile came to her lips as she remembered a time when she had said those exact words. 

~~~~ Joe and [Y/N] after running into each other and making a stable friendship, Joe and [Y/N] had started dating half way through the semester, their relationship maintaining all through out college and to graduation. Joe was a behind her in line. The time was getting closer and closer for the woman to accept her diploma. She shook her arms out, trying to shake her nerves out. She felt the familiar hand of her boyfriend rest on her shoulder. 

“You okay, babe?” Joe asked. [Y/N] let out a shaky breath. 

“Honestly, no.” She said. Joe chuckled and massaged her shoulder a bit. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” He said. 

~~~~

“The Bride and Groom will now share their vows.” The Priest said. Joe and [Y/N] faced each other. In the traditional manner, Joe went first. The both had written their own vows. Joe cleared his throat. 

“[Y/N], my love. You are the most amazing woman I have ever met. I am so honored that you had said yes to marrying me, for I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else besides you. I have had the honor of seeing you through all of your greatest triumphs and challenges through out the years that we have been together. And I am honored, once more, to share this moment, this life with you. I promise to love you, and only you, in sickness and in health. I promise to be there in our greatest triumphs as a married couple, and in our greatest challenges. I love you more than life itself.” Joe read. [Y/N] blinked her eyes, trying to fight back the tears. She sniffed. The Priest smiled. 

“Joe, my love, my man, my amazing man. I remember the first day we met. We were both in a rush to get to class, and we ran into each other. When our hands touched, I felt a spark, and I knew that you were someone special. We started dating half way through the semester. When you gave me those encouraging words during our graduation, I knew that I was going to be so happy with you, just like I was. When I was let go from my job, you didn’t get mad at me. You didn’t yell at me. You said you would always be there for me. You helped me find a better job. A job that I actually enjoy. And my promise to you, right now, in this moment, I promise to love no one else but you. I promise to care for you in sickness and in health. I promise to be there through our greatest triumphs and our greatest challenges. Joe Mazzello, you are by best friend, my love and my life. I love you.” 

She remembered one of the greatest challenges she had faced, getting let go from her job.

~~~~

[Y/N] opened the door to the house she shared with her boyfriend, tears falling down her face. Joe was sitting on the couch, watching a movie. He smiled. 

“Hey babe, how was,” he froze as seeing his lover in tears. He quickly paused the movie and jumped up. “Woah, woah, woah! Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, rushing over and cupping her face. 

“I-I got let go from my job.” She sobbed. A pang struck Joe’s heart when he heard the news. 

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” He whispered, bringing her in for a hug. [Y/N] sobbed into his chest. He quickly and gently moved her over to the couch, the two sitting together. Joe gently ran his hand up and down her back, kissing her head. “Do you know why they let you go?” He asked. [Y/N] sniffed and wiped her eyes. 

“I-It was apparently because I wasn’t doing any work they asked.” She said. Joe frowned. 

“Well that’s bullshit! I know that you were the most hardworking and dedicated woman in that job! How could they not think you were doing any work?” He asked. [Y/N] sniffed. 

“Jessie, the woman I told you about that doesn’t seem to like me, apparently she had been taking credit for all the work I was doing.” [Y/N] said. Joe sighed. Right in that moment, he wanted to rush over to the place you worked and give them a piece of his mind. They should have fired Jessie, not [Y/N]. 

“Well, no matter what happens, babe. I promise I will always be there for you.” He said, kissing her head. “We’ll get through this.”  

~~~~

“Will everyone please welcome Queen and Adam Lambert!” The DJ shouted. The crowd erupted into cheers as the band got up on the stage. Adam smiled and waved. 

“Thank you! Before we start, I just want to give my congratulations to the lovely couple, Mr. Joe Mazzello and Mrs. [Y/N] Mazzello. I hope you both live a happy life together. Now, would everyone please clear the floor as the couple shares their fist dance as newly weds.” Adam said. The floor was cleared and Joe lead [Y/N] by the hand out to the middle of the dance floor. Joe took one of [Y/N]’s hands in his, her placing one on his shoulder. 

“Ooh you make me live.”  Adam started singing ‘You’re My Best Friend, which was [Y/N]’s favorite Queen song. [Y/N] smiled as she and Joe gently swayed from side to side. 

“I would have thought Somebody to Love would have been your first choice.” [Y/N] said quietly. Joe chuckled and kissed her cheek. 

“Yeah well, I wanted to go with something that was a little less rock and role and more from the heart.” He said. The two spun out, their hands connecting them together before spinning back in again. 

Whatever this world can give to me It's you you're all I see Ooh, you make me live now honey Ooh, you make me live 

Thinking through all the things that they had been through, [Y/N] realized she wouldn’t have changed a single moment. All of those moments, the happy times, the sad times, the frustrating times, they all lead up to this moment. To her getting married to her best friend and the love of her life. 

Ooh, you're the best friend that I ever had I've been with you such a long time You're my sunshine and I want you to know That my feelings are true I really love you

~~~~

//I hope you like this one. I had a lot of fun writing it.// 

[deakydeaky]

Can you do a Joe proposing to you type of thing? He's like planning and getting a ring and stuff please? Thank you☺

(A/N: alright lets fuck it up, also please continue to send me shit thanks❤️)

Joe planning:

Joe knew from the moment he met you that he could marry you

It was all about time though. There had been a lot happening to him in the last few years and you two hadn’t been together together for very long

But he still knew that you were the only one he wanted

Joe had spent months looking for rings, and I mean months. He would be looking during all of his free time

It was funny how weird he was acting because you thought something was happening but you knew Joe, and he wasn’t that type of guy

When Joe found the ring, all he needed was the perfect moment. He kept the ring on him all of the time

He then got tired of waiting for the perfect moment and made it

He made dinner, lit the candles, placed the mood, everything. But, then he got called into work, you got super sick and it was a mess of a night

After that he thought planning it out wasn’t great and asked the other what he should do because he was so unsure

He tried to drop hints about things to see when he could pop the question

“So, uh, our anniversary is coming up. Anything you’ve been, I don’t know, thinking about?” He would ask when you were making them breakfast

“No, is there anything you want to do? Because I’d be okay for a day where it’s just us.” You would smile at him

“I would too. But are you sure you can’t think of anything. A neckless? Or a ring perhaps?” He would wrap his arms around your waist from behind and out his head in your shoulder

“Joe if you’re asking me for a gift idea just say so.”

Joe thinking maybe an anniversary proposal would be too cheesy

A few weeks after your anniversary he decided that he was going to throw a small party and ask you there. Around both of your friends and some family

During the party things were going the way he wanted. The food wasn’t done in time, everyone kept going out for more alcohol and no one could stay in one place

At some point Tyler asked where he was and you went looking to find him in the bedroom. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands when you sat next to him

“Is something wrong? You seem upset.”

“No, I’m not upset I’m just- I’m trying so hard to make something perfect. I want it to be perfect, for you, because you deserve it, you deserve the perfect moment.”

“Every moment with you is perfect.”

“I’m glad you said that.” He took the box out of his pocket and opened it, getting on one knee.” Will you do me the honor of marrying me?” You we’re completely shocked, like this was not where you thought this was going

“Oh my god yes!” You said before kissing him

Planning the wedding/parties:

You want your anniversary date to stay the same so you decided that you want to have the wedding fast and on that day

You two planned most of it together. The food, the band, where it would be at

You and Lucy planned your bride stuff, along with a few other friends

The guys tried their best to help but weren’t helping at all

You guys chose the basic things like a full Italian course, a big wedding cake, loads of friends there, something that was big but personal

You and your friends went dress shopping along with the boys

On day Roger and Brian came along just to give opinions

You could have sworn you would cry when you saw them looking at you in a dress

“Absolutely gorgeous.” They would comment

It was the day that the most people came for just what you thought would be a few dresses try on day

But, when the wrong dress was grab, you still tried it on, just for fun

When you walk out the gasps were amazing. You looked in the mirror and wanted to cry

“This is it. This is the dress.” You put your hand on your stomach.” I’m getting married. Holy shit.” The others would laugh

The wedding:

You had never been so nervous yet so calm. You were nervous because something could go terribly wrong but you were calm because you were marrying the love of your life

The bridesmaids and you all got ready, your best friend doing your hair and makeup with you

You wanted this to just so smoothly, and have it be the best day no matter what. Then again marrying Joe? You wanted nothing more

At some point you really needed a minute. It was like it was all hitting you and everyone around you was fine. When you went out to the halls of where you were staying you ran into Joe, also kid getting ready

“Hey, are you okay? Cold feet?”

“Never. I just can’t believe today is the day.” You would laugh as your hands shook

“We will do whatever you want to do.”

“I want to marry you, today, and if there were a priest right next to us I would ask him to do it.” You both laughed.” I just- I want this day to be...”

“Yeah, yeah me too.”

After that you were set. You went back to the room, started up music, drank with your friends, all of it.

After you were ready the boys came to see you, all of them almost in tears

“You look beautiful. Absolutely just- god.”

“Ben, please, it’s my wedding day, they can’t find out about us like this.” You would say as you walked next to them

“You do look great Y/N.” Rami would commented

“And even Joe looks really good! It’s going to be a perfect wedding.”

You would get walked down the isle by whoever(if you didn’t have someone Ben would do it, fight me)

And after they everything was perfect

The after party was even better. The food was amazing, you watched your friends get drunk, Gwil surprisingly turn into a total flirt when drunk, people dance around, the whole lot

The best part of the night was Joe’s speech

“This is to the bride, my wife. Wow, my wife. I can’t even believe I get to call her that, I mean look at her, who wouldn’t want her as a wife. I just wanted to say this day has been everything to me, I’ve loved every minute of it. And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Y/N. I don’t think a day goes by that I don’t fall more in love with you, and I can’t wait to finish this life with you. I love you Mrs. Mazzello. So please join me in raising a glass, to my wife.”

You were in tears, happy tears, and you couldn’t believe those words he just told you. You were truly in love and had never been happier

Bonus! Honeymoon:

You went to Italy, shocker right? But you had a not been once and that’s where you two wanted to be as newlyweds

You stayed out all night

Drank and ate so much food you both could have passed out each night

Had breakfast outside on the patio, over looking the place you stayed in

Took sooooo many pictures

S E X

Flirted like you two just started dating

Took midnight walks, midnight dinners, went skinny dipping, help each other home when drunk

“You are the prettiest girl on the whole wide world.”

“Thank you Joey.”

“No I- I mean that shit! Not just because your my wife, it’s ten times hotter because you’re my wife.”

“You are so drunk.”

“Off of love.” He say because he started to sing Love of My Life

Went to a lot of places like museums and restaurants

Drank champagne just about every night and morning because you loved it and always saw it in movies

Sang Queen around Italy

Rented a boat just for you two to try and drive

Over all spent all of the time you could together and made a lot of memories from it

[musedblues]

Always Something There To Remind Me [Part: 2]

summary: Home is where the heart is. You're working on finding yours. After a handful of misfortunes, your old friend Joe helps to unravel life's greatest mystery while adding a bit of extra grief to the mix.

warnings: Another death and a funeral (I'm sorry in advance) general sadness but also a bit of resolution!? He’s here lads.

w/c: 4k

a/n: ❗This time only I'm adding lovely mutuals to my tags, who gave feedback in the first chapter so this one doesn't flop 😳 moving forward I'll make a normal tag list so, let me know if you'd like to be added!

@anincurablefangirl​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @supersonicfreddie​ @ogrogerbattle​ @sonic-volcano​ @tensecondvacation​

Part 3

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The sound of sirens pierced through your head. You thought you were dreaming.

You were home, in New York, in bed. You had been here for two weeks. The last you saw of Wales was the airport, where Tegan dropped you off and promised to ship some of your things to America. Every day you woke up in your childhood home, a new small package would arrive at your front door. You would tote the boxes inside and your mother would remind you to brush your hair, like when you were a kid. But instead of taking you to school, she would take you to therapy.

You tried to drive there on your own once, but you broke into a panic before you could pull out of the driveway. So your mother drove and tried really hard to act like everything was fine. She would play Bruce Springsteen songs on those drives and gush about his music. You used to obsess with her, but your head usually ached too bad to think of anything besides how much it hurt. You knew the headaches would go away if you figured out how to sleep again. But sometimes your daydreams were too nightmarish and you were terrified to fall asleep and let your subconscious take over.

That's why when the faint shriek of sirens grew loud enough to wake you up, you were only frustrated with your imagination. You had finally fallen asleep, for once. But when red and blue lights flooded through your bedroom window, you realized you weren't dreaming. You shot out of bed in a panic and prepared for the worst. A familiar vice tightened around your throat as you crept downstairs to investigate.

Your mother was wearing a vintage silk robe and her hair was frizzy and wild from sleep. She rubbed her eyes and watched you float down the stairs in the same pajamas you'd been living in for some days in a row.

"It's three in the morning. What could possibly-" Your mother wondered, peering past the blinds where the red and blue lights shone brightest. You watched her grow a frown and the vice around your throat tightened ever so slightly.

"What?" You plead to know.

"Mr. Mazzello hasn't been doing so well this month. The ambulance is stopped across the street."

"No." You frowned, scurrying toward the window, hoping you wouldn't see anything but a quiet suburb. But there were indeed cop cars and an ambulance stopped outside your favorite neighbors home. You watched lights turn on inside the living room window, and a sickening regret-filled your stomach.

You had been home for two weeks and hadn't seen the Mazzello family once. You heard Joe's mother stop over one morning and chat with your mother downstairs. You recognized her voice from behind your closed bedroom door, but couldn't bring yourself to leave and face her. So you didn't.

Your mother turned her dusty grey eyes toward you. They were sad and tired.

"Go back to bed. I'm sure things will be alright."

"You shouldn't say things will be alright just because you want them to be." You groaned on your trek up the stairs. Maybe everything would be alright, but it seemed foolish to hope for otherwise, these days.

///

The next morning was worse than the night before. You were the one who opened the front door to a weeping Mrs. Mazzello. She was as beautiful as ever, hair light at the roots, eyes like stars. But you only caught a glimpse of the lady before she threw herself in your arms and proceeded to cry. Of course, you held on to her and tried to unravel your complex feelings- happy to see her again, but terribly afraid of what caused her such grief.

Your own mother appeared and started begging her best friend to explain why she was in such distress. With a deep breath, Mrs. Mazzello shared the news. Her husband didn't make it through the night. After her world started spinning the opposite direction, she was sent home to get some rest. Mrs. Mazzello couldn't imagine going home all on her own and apologized for showing up at your door and causing such a scene. Your mother cried along with her, and try as you might to express the storm inside of your chest, you just couldn't. Joe's father always made sure to invite you to every Halloween party, and every spur of the moment family game night. He was the closest thing you had to a father figure since moving to New York. You never got to tell him hello again, or goodbye. Now, you only sank deeper into the dark pit that had swallowed your heart whole, some weeks ago, searching to claim it once again.

After a cup of tea, and even a few giggle-filled stories, Mrs. Mazzello hugged you again, this time with a smile. You always thought Joe had her smile, the kind that reached his eyes. The kind that made your heart melt a little.

"Sweet girl, I'm so glad you're home." She cooed into your hair as you hugged her back; happy to know she still thought you were sweet, like in high school.

Eventually, you and your mother stood on either side of Mrs. Mazzello and walked her across the street. You helped her inside the old familiar oak front door, and into the living room that hadn't changed much since last time you'd been there. You tried not to look around, strangely afraid of feeling too attached to a home that wasn't yours.

///

You waited in the car of all places, while your mother attended Mr. Mazzello's funeral. Your throat grew tight at the prospect of sitting through a drawn-out goodbye, and even though you were dressed for the occasion, you couldn't move. Your mother wasn't angry. She was almost afraid to leave you alone. But you coxed her inside the funeral while you sat in silence. When folks started leaving, your own self pitty was trumped by regret.

When folks started trickling out of the service, you demanded your mother to follow the procession, instead of taking you home. The cemetery was dusted with snow that melted underfoot. You barely made it onto the greying green before you were reduced to tears of panic. Your mother turned around and suggested you stand and watch from the car, like your own twisted safe zone. You leaned against the cold metal and watched your mother shrink in the distance, to a gathering between to empty branched trees. The late autumn chill reddened your nose and the cold weather became a perfect excuse for the tears you were suppressing and making your eyes all puffy.

The crowd was full of faces you recognized, but couldn't bother contemplating. When the group thinned out you asked your mother to wait while the car heated up, so you could pay your respects in private. There was a cold looking priest and some cemetery workers chatting beyond the freshly dug grave. The headstone was respectable, inscribed with Mr. Mazzello's name. His casket was in your line of sight. Looking at it made your stomach churn, and you wished you would have just stayed home today. You loved Joe's dad, but you weren't ready for another funeral. You were still coping with the last one you'd planned. Your therapist had their work cut out, that was certain.

"I didn't know you were in town."

You knew that voice. It was velvet cutting through the cold. It belonged to Joe. You turned your head toward the sound in near wonder. Joe was there, standing a few feet behind you, sporting a warm looking coat, and red looking eyes.

"Surprise." You barely smiled as you turned to face your old friend all the way. You were bound to see him, but you weren't so sure you recognized the man standing before you. Joe was all grown up, decorated in dark stubble and expensive-looking shoes. Nothing at all like the worn-out pair he ran around in all of senior year.

"You're just a little late." Joe joked. Or... did he? His expression was empty and he made no move to approach you like the friends you once were.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't have come here." You realized fully, digging your nails into the sides of your coat you'd been gripping. Your old best friend watched you hurry past him and toward your mother's car. You wanted to turn around to see if he was watching you walk away, but your eyes were fogged with tears.

Your mother parked the car in your very own driveway and made a move to cross the street. The Mazzellos were hosting a dinner party and guests were already headed in with pans of food in hand. But you couldn't do it. You raced inside your own home and locked the door, knowing your mother had a key and that anyone else who tried to disturb you, couldn't.

You took a shower and cried for as long as the water was warm. As the sunset, you lit a few candles and called Tegan. You told her all about the funeral and seeing Joe and when she asked how you felt about it, you couldn't quite tell her. She cursed in Welsh and her raspy tone was music to your ears. You giggled and thanked her for listening. She said nothing was the same without you around. She spoke to you for hours. Tegan begged you to call her once a week and you begged her to bump it up to two or three more times.

///

The next day, your mother was preparing to leave to take photos of a couple's engagement. You were sitting at your writing desk, going through the latest box of knickknacks Tegan had shipped over. Last night's conversation with her was better than all the therapy sessions you'd received in the past three weeks. For once, since Kris died, something in you settled.

You heard the front door creak open downstairs and thought it was strange that your mother wasn't leaving through the garage entry, and without shouting goodbye to you. But then you heard muffled voices and you realized someone else was here. Who could have possibly shown up at eight in the morning on a weekday?

Then you heard heavy footsteps taking your staircase two at a time, and before you could worry over what was happening, Joe was standing in your bedroom doorway. He was dressed in joggers and his auburn hair was mused like he'd just woken up and bolted across the street to your door.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Joe asked you, his luminescent eyes were wide below two furrowed brows. The second time you laid eyes on your friend of too many years to count, you still couldn't believe how much he'd changed since last you really truly saw him.

To make matters worse, you really couldn't be sure of exactly what Joe was talking about as you stood from your desk to face him. Was he wondering about your homecoming, or had he found out the reason for it?

"Why didn't I tell you what, Joe? Yesterday didn't seem like the time for twenty questions."

He only responded by rolling his eyes and clenching his jaw all while stepping further into your room. You trade places with Joe, shutting the door as your stomach churned.

"Shit, I'm sorry." You sighed, afraid that bringing up yesterday might be crossing some kind of line. Since when were there boundaries between you and Joe?

"It's okay, it's..." Joe breathed after a moment, casting his eyes around your room that had barely changed since highschool. He'd spent many nights helping you build forts out of the blankets still decorating your bed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Joe asked one more time. The sorry timbre of his voice was hint enough to what he was really asking.

"I tried." You shrugged, shifting a little closer to your old friend. You'd called Joe the morning after you found out Kris died. You called him before you called your mother. He never returned the missed connection.

Now, Joe's brows were pushed together and the look in his eyes seemed nearly unrecognizable, and that pushed you over the edge.

"I'm sorry about yesterday, and everything else. Can we just like, be friends again?" You plead all of a sudden. You weren't sure you ever stopped being friends in the first place, but you'd certainly drifted far from the bond you once had.

Joe just barely grinned. And then you watched as he seemed to relax completely, you could almost see the weight being lifted from his shoulders as he stepped closer to wrap you in a hug. His embrace was warm and familiar. You hadn't felt such peace in months, maybe years if you were being honest with yourself. Joe was back on your side.

"I'm sorry too. It's been weird." Joe kept his comforting latch on you as he mumbled into your hair.

"I know. You can hang around here, if you want." You reminded as you pulled away. Joe was smiling for the first time since your reunion. It was a real, gentle and genuine expression.

"Are you sure? You can finish whatever you were doing before I came over to yell at you." Joe nodded toward the box on your desk with a little laugh.

"Oh, God no." You glanced toward the shipment of your leftover Welsh memories. Unpacking them fell to the bottom of your to-do list, all of a sudden. "You came here just to yell at me, huh?" You smirked at your friend.

"No. I came over because we have a  lot of time to make up for." Joe handed out a loaded statement. But said so with a little half-smile. So you opened your bedroom door and made a show of gesturing he follow you downstairs. Your mother was slinging her camera bag over her shoulder and sliding into a pair of strappy sandals. Her grey eye's lit up when she noticed you and Joe descending the staircase together.

"Well, I've got to run. I should be home by lunch."

"I'll make something." You shrugged, suggesting a change of pace. You hadn't done much of anything besides sulk since you landed back in the states. And you were seriously craving lentil soup. Your mother shot you a suspicious smile as she reached for her car keys and nodded your way.

"Have a good day, kids." Your mother waved as she hurried off to her job as the best damn wedding (now engagement) photographer in the whole state. Joe gave your mother a pleasant goodbye as she shut the door and left you alone with your best friend for the first time since God knows when.

"Sit,  I'll make some coffee." You pointed Joe toward the living room as you shuffled toward the kitchen. Joe followed orders, and you lingered near the coffee maker, finding clean mugs in the dishwasher and putting some other glasses away while the coffee pot filled up.  You made Joe's coffee the way he always used to like it and started toward the living room to offer him the drink.

You rounded the corner to find Joe comfortable curled up against an old decorative pillow, asleep. He must have been exhausted from all the family business he'd been dealing with. You abandon the mug of coffee on the table near the sofa, for when he woke up. And before you left the living room, you watched Joe laying there, seemingly content, breathing deeply. And for just one moment, you felt fine. You didn't feel like you used to; like a highschool kid. You felt like your boyfriend was dead, and so was Joe's dad, but that it was alright because Joe was still right next to you. The things that we're okay right now balanced out the worry that they wouldn't always be.

Joe stayed just like that for the next couple of hours, so you went about your day like normal. Putting the rest of the dishes away, sipping your coffee, and folding a bit of laundry. You were sat at the kitchen table with a new book in hand when Joe finally woke up.

"Hey, thanks." He noted, walking into the room with his old cup of coffee. Just then the dull thrum of a blasted radio and the sounds of car doors slamming in the distance were unmistakably coming from across the street- Joe's house.

"Should you be over there?" You wondered, shutting your book as Joe moved to put his mug in your microwave.

"It's actually nice to uh, not have to worry about all of that for a minute." Joe cast his eyes around the room and you understood what he meant. Living in Kris's house with the knowledge that he was never coming back through the door again was worse than waiting up when he disappeared for days on end.

"Well, you can hide out here for as long as you want." Everything was normal again. He grinned while the microwave counted down seconds.

"Sorry for falling asleep. What'd I miss?" Joe chuckled lightly.

"Uh..." You let out a breath of a laugh, a thousand memories from the past few years hitting you like a wave. But certainly, that wasn't what Joe was asking, now. "Not much." You responded because everything you'd done while he napped, wasn't worth mentioning.

Your friend with tired eyes seemed to consider your answer, and then the microwave beeped. Joe's mug was steaming as he carried it over to the table. He eased into the seat next to you as you raised your own mug to your lips. Joe had yet to look at you, his jungle toned eyes focused on the patterns of your dining table. But after a quiet moment, Joe raised his eyes to look right at yours.

"What happened?" Joe dared to whisper. You watched his eyes stay glued on yours and felt sorry for letting too much time pass. You knew exactly what Joe wanted to know, so you sat your mug to the side and thought for a moment before speaking up...

"He was drinking and driving." You started easily. You had talked through this with your mother, and Tegan, and therapist. The latter helped you sort out your mourning Kris, but there were still scattered fears of driving cars and falling asleep you had to sort through. But side effects aside, it didn't hurt so much to recount the outlines of what happened. And oddly, you still felt security spilling your guts to Joe. You both kept your focus on each other as you went on filling in blanks

"Things were really bad. I mean before, with Kris and I. It doesn't matter why they just were. He was never home and he was always drinking. Then... he died. So... I guess that's the short version of what happened." You sighed emptily. The fights and the misunderstandings and the late nights, all built up and up until they crashed over a bridge with Kris. Now you were here. Joe cast his troubled gaze back toward the table, while his fingers tightened around his coffee mug handle.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You wondered. About his dad. About how he was feeling.

"I'm sorry I never called you back." Joe looked up again. Sure, it had been a while, but you were together again, weren't you? These long faces of his were making you a little too sad.

"Why don't you make it up to me by staying for lunch?" You grinned. Joe did too, nodding in agreeance. The two of you spent the next hour scrolling through Pinterest to find the most exciting recipes you had enough ingredients for. Then you made plans to make dessert. It was like once you started you couldn't stop, planing for soup and bread and even an apple fucking pie.

Joe helped you bake, spinning around your kitchen because he already knew where you kept most things. As you stood cutting up apples at the counter, conversation about kitchenware lulled and you couldn't go on any longer without asking what Joe had been up to, all this time.

"What were you working on in London, anyway?" You asked, a little embarrassed to be so far outside of the loop. Your friend was leaning against the counter at your side, watching you work.

"Bohemian Rhapsody." Joe shrugged, stealing a bit of chopped up apple as you went on cutting.

"Like the Queen song?" You wondered, a bit confused.

"Yeah, like the Queen movie, now. I landed a roll in the biopic."

"Joe. Holy shit." You rested your knife and turned to face him head-on. That was a big name drop. He really was living his dream, huh? Joe was holding back a cocky smirk as he stole another bit of apple from the board at your side.

"Starting right now," You chucked as you reached for the knife. "we're telling each other things again." You pointed the utensil near him like you meant business.

"Whoa, I surrender... and agree." Joe laughed, moving out of the way as you reached for a big bowl. Your afternoon faded into a mess of home-baked goods and stories you'd been meaning to tell each other. Yours were silly ones about missing the bus and making friends with a stray cat who showed up at your door every night for a year or two.

But Joe's news was far more enchanting. He simply gushed over his newest castmates, and the members of Queen he was lucky enough to meet. As your apple pie baked, and you started to make soup, you began to realize the extent of Joe's career. He rambled about leaving soon for the premiere of his new movie. You realized he wasn't going to be around like he used to be. Like always. So you listened more intently to what he had to say like maybe this was the big finale of your friendship where you got to tie up all your loose ends and move on. You didn't want to move on. You wanted to move through this shit together. But you knew that was selfish and you knew Joe had a life to get back to, one that didn't include keeping you any sort of company.

Your mother nearly fell to her knees when she came home to find the feast you made, waiting on the stove while you laughed in the living room with Joe. You insisted he tell you everything he'd been up too, genuinely afraid this day was a one-off chance you'd never have with Joe again. You all ate lunch to the tune of his most hilarious stories, and Joe even helped clean up, while your mother complained about her day and the traffic.

"Well, I'm off to London." Joe laughed like he was kidding, but he wasn't. "The U.S premiere is like twelve days away. You know, I can put your name on the list." Joe shrugged as you walked him to the door. The sun was low in the sky, and his flight for the UK premiere was leaving tomorrow afternoon.

You figured he'd just offered out of politeness, as a way to trade thanks for this strange easy going day. But no matter your friend's motive, there was no way you'd be able to prance through the city and mingle with his superstar friends. You barely made it out your front door in weeks.

"Thank you, Joe. But I don't think I'm ready for all that. I hope you have a safe flight and a fun time, though."  You nodded softly, really wishing him well. Joe deserved every good thing.

"I guess I won't be seeing you till Christmas Eve, then." If you hadn't been so caught off guard by his comment, you would have noticed Joe pout a little.

"Christmas Eve?"

"Duh. Same time and place as always. Right across the street." Joe chuckled lightly. "You'll always be invited. I'm just glad your home to finally start showing up, again." Joe shoved his hands in his pockets and bumped his elbow against yours as he joked.

"Yeah, okay... I guess I'll see you across the street on Christmas Eve, then." You smiled softly as Joe reached for the front door. He lingered in the doorway, telling you goodbye one final time, and you stood there watching him jog across the street, spinning around to flash his smile your way. The kind of smile that reached his eyes and melted your heart just a little. You could have easily settled back into spending every waking hour with Joe. Even after spending all day with him, it seemed like you'd hardly caught up at all. Funny how you'd been fully prepared for him to leave with a halfhearted thanks and a vague goodbye until further, distant notice. Christmas was a couple of months away, but now you had a reason to look forward to it.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[apinkwhisperscollector]

You are the Veronica to my Deaky.

A / N: Hi, I wrote something. This is the first time I write something and let people read it. And it's also the first time I write something in English. Anyway ... Joe's dancing video gave me an idea. A special thanks to @cool--cats  and @sohoneyspreadyourwings that encouraged me to write. And thanks again @sohoneyspreadyourwings, you read and corrected the English of this humble one shot.

Ps: The writing is really bad, but I'm proud of myself.

Summary: It's your wedding day.

"Y/N, I wanted to know if-Wow." said Ben coming through the door.

"You wanted to know what?" You said looking at him. "Has anything happened? Is Joe all right?"

"With all my respect, but .... Wow you are ... Wow." Ben kept repeating ‘Wow’ and you couldn’t help but smile.

You were happy and extremely nervous. After all, it's not every day you get married. It's especially not every day that you marry Joe Mazzello.

"Ben, why are you talking out loud like that? Speak lower ... Oh, okay ... Wow." said Gwil.

"Thanks." You said feeling your cheeks turn red. If your future husband's two best friends were left speechless, you could not wait to see Joe's reaction.

"But you wanted to know what Ben? And taking advantage of the fact that you’re here, can you please close my necklace?" you said turning away from the man.

"They asked us to tell you that in 10 minutes someone will pick you up to take you to the church." said Ben, closing the necklace. "Ready."

"Y/N, you look beautiful. He's going to cry so much when he sees you." Gwil said with tears starting to come out of his eyes.

"Gwilym Lee, are you crying?" You and Ben said at the same time.

"Maybe." Gwil wiped away tears that were falling with a handkerchief.  "He is getting married. He is going to marry the love of his life. They’ve just gone through so much. He lost his father. Months later, you lost your father and your mother." The tears were still falling from Gwil’s eyes, Ben were red as he tried not to cry. You were trying very hard not to cry too, Gwil’s beautiful words made your heart fill with joy.

"Oh my God, it's your wedding and you're going to go into the church by yourself," Ben said with tears prickling his eyes.

'I said I'd rather walk alone. Well, I'm really not going to be alone.” You opened the little pendant in your necklace, and there were two small pictures of your father and your mother. Gwil and Ben had become a blubbering mess at that. "They’ll be with me the whole time."

“Gwil and Ben, it's time to go." Rami came into the room you were in to take the boys away. "Y/N, you're ... He's going to cry so much when he sees you." said Rami with a small smile on his lips. "Boys, come on. Now."

Ben and Gwil followed Rami and you were alone again. The small story of how Joe and you came in there invaded his thoughts. You went from two people who hated each other to friends and then became best friends, and now you would be husband and wife.

You had met on the set of GI Joe: Retaliation and for some reason you hated each other. But somehow, over the years, you had became friends. You both had become such good friends that when he finished directing Undrafted, you were the first person he called. When you got your first Emmy nomination, he was there. When his girlfriend betrayed him, it was on your shoulder that he cried on. When you won the BAFTA, he was the first person you called. It had all lead to this, you were about to marry your best friend. The one who only continued to be there for you whenever you needed him most.Your story was nothing more than a romantic movie cliché, but it was your cliché and you loved it.

"Miss, Y/N the car is ready and waiting," said the planner who helped organize the wedding.

"Thanks." you said following the woman. "Is everything going well?"

"It's all going wonderfully well. Don’t worry about anything." the woman helped you into the car, arranging the dress perfectly. The car started moving and that was it. You were getting closer and closer to becoming a Mazzello.

In less than ten minutes, you were already at the church door ready to enter.

The church doors opened and the wedding march began, signaling to Joe and the guests that you had arrived.

With your first step, Joe's gaze met yours gaze and at the same time you two started to cry. "Oh my god ... Oh my god …” Gwil, Ben, Rami look from Joe to you. Oh my god, I'm going to faint Gwil, I'm going to faint." Joe was talking so loudly that everyone started laughing. "Oh my god".

With each step you were got closer. With each step you missed your parents more. They should be there. Joe's father should be there. A fucking drunk driver took your parents from you and the fucking cancer took Joe's father. At every step you knew that wherever they are, they are looking at you both. Joe kept yelling “Oh my god” that echoed through the church. You were getting closer. You had finally reached Joe. You were facing him and there was no one to hand you over to him. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. It was his friend who was more of a brother - John. "Someone has to give you to him." John said, holding your hand.

"Thanks."

"Mazzello, if you break her heart , I'll hunt you to the end of the world. I'll find you and make you suffer." John tried to make his voice as threatening as possible. He failed, because everyone started laughing again.

The ceremony began, and everyone cried all the time. The priest spoke about love, respect and family. He emphasized that a marriage meant the joining of two families. You had lost your blood family, but you were getting a new one. "The rings, please." said the priest. Lucy gave you what would be Joe's ring. "Ben, the ring." said Joe. "The ring, yes, of course." Ben began to look in every pocket of his suit. His face was red from crying, but his eyes were filled with despair. "Gwil, I can’t find the ring." "Here." Rami took the ring out of his pocket and handed it to Joe. "Where..." "You dropped it in the car." said Rami, returning to his place. "You dropped the ring? Wow Ben, Cardboard  Ben would never do that to me." the guests laughed. The priest looked confused.

"Anyway ..." said the priest. "Joe, your vows please."

"Y/N, it was a cold afternoon on set in New Orleans when I first saw you. I was tired, you were, as always, very nice to me and I was rude. Honey, I'm sorry.I decided to hate you and be very childish to try to turn your life into a living hell. Again, I'm sorry. I was rude and childish because I liked you as soon as I saw you. But because I had a girlfriend then, it was easier to pretend to hate you and make you hate me. It was the way I could find it that didn’t have me falling in love with you."

Tears streamed from her eyes, Joe’s eyes, and from everyone's eyes-even from the priest.

"But people grow up, change, and I don’t remember how we stopped hating each other and became friends, but we did and I’m grateful for it everyday. When I look back, since ... 2011 or 2012, you're always by my side. With you I went to events, I traveled, I ate weird foods. Seriously, she made me eat a snake soup ... Anyway, in 2017 we were best friends who turned became something more. We spent the biggest adventures with these guys here” Joe said pointing at Lucy, Ben, Gwil , and Rami.

"Until last year we had the best and worst years of our lives. They are not physically here today, but I know they are somewhere watching us right now." Tears began to come out uncontrollably. Mentally, you thanked those who created waterproof makeup.

"You are my moon, my stars, my earth, and all my entire  universe. You are the coffee to my milk, you are the sun to my morning, you are the Veronica to my Deaky. You are literally my everything and I still can't believe you're here marrying me.”

"Wow, that was beautiful." said Gwil, wiping the tears from his face. Internally, you wondered if there were still tears coming out of Gwil and Ben. They were crying early, if they continue that way they will have dehydration. "I really was not expecting it. It was really beautiful. "Y/N, seu votos por favor."

"Well, I don't have the slightest idea how I'm going to get over those beautiful words you said. I just don't know what to say." you took a deep breath trying to form sentences that would make sense. "I lost my family months ago and today I am gaining another." Well, in fact, I always had two families, your family has always been my family.As you said, you have always been by my side and I have always been to your . " Tears began to fall from your eyes. "And so it will be forever.I love you so much Joe, I love you more than words can explain."

"Joseph Francis Mazzello III, do you accept Y/N as your wife?"

"I do." Joe had the most beautiful smile in the world, but at that moment his smile was bigger and more radiant than ever.

"Y/N, do you accept Joseph Francis Mazzello as your husband?"

"I do.I do.I do." You said it several times. That's it, you're a Mazzello now.

"So then, I now pronounce you husband and wife." I said the priest and the whole church cheered. "Joe, you may kiss the bride."

********

"Seriously?" You asked as soon as you arrived at the location for the photos.

"What?' Joe pretended not to know what you were talking about.

"Joseph Francis Mazzello III, why is our dog dressed as a dinosaur and why is there a Ben’s cardboard cutout there?" You took a deep breath trying not to freak out.

"Wait, did you have a new CARDBOARD?" "That's a new cardboard Ben, don’t try to fool me. Oh my god , Joseph, we're not taking this to the honeymoon!"

"Y/N, it's going to be funny.You do not want to look at the photos and laugh? One day, in thirty years or so, show these pictures to our grandchildren or maybe even great-grandchildren"

"Yes, Joe, but explain to me where Cardboard comes in? Ben really is right there," you pointed at Ben, who was turning a glass of champagne all at once. He cried the whole ceremony and was drinking very fast now. You were starting to get worried, you guys had not actually come to the party and both Ben and Gwilym looked drunk.

"Ginnie, please help me. Tell your son that I don't want the cardboard in my pictures or my dog dressed as a dinosaur." You said trying to find comfort in your mother-in-law.

"Oh dear, he's yours now, and Joe's right, it's going to be funny." said your mother-in-law, taking a glass of champagne. Ok, problems with an open bar wedding, the party had barely started and it looks like everyone was getting drunk pretty quick.

"We need to take the photos soon so we can continue with the schedule of the party." said one of the organization's girls.

"Oh, okay, let's take those pictures." And the photos were getting better than you imagined. Joe was right, he was being funny. Bride and groom photo, bridesmaids photo, Joe's photo (and several videos) screaming and running from the dog while you were laughing. None of it looked like serious wedding photos, it was more to a lot of friends together taking pictures to post on instagram.

"Are you all right, Mrs. Mazzello?" Joe said though you did not listen. You were amazed at how beautiful everything was, all the decor, everything was absolutely like you always dreamed. "Y/N, I'm talking to you."

"What? Sorry."

"I asked if you were well ... Mrs. Mazzello." Joe looked straight into your eyes and you can not help but smile when you heard Ms. Mazzello.

"Mazzello, I'm someone's wife now. That's ..."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome The Mazzellos." the voice on the microphone announced your entry. the voice on the microphone announced your entry into the ballroom.

As soon as you entered the hall, John Legend's All of me began to play for the first dance of voices.

It was his favorite song, but suddenly Joe stopped dancing with you and stared at you.

"Joe, dear what are you doing?" and even before he could answer a song you did not know began to play.

Joe started dancing in a very stupid way and even though you had no idea why he was dancing like that, you smiled. You smile because it's with this idiot that you're going to spend the rest of your life.

[bentaylorrogerhardy]

As The World Crumbles (Chapter Six)

Collaboration with @hystericalrogertaylor

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Word Count: 4487

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have been dating since Bohemian Rhapsody’s release. Everything seemed perfect for the young couple, until the night of the Golden Globes. Russia has bombed the United States, destroying everything and implementing a ruthless dictatorship. With the country in tatters, Ben, (Y/n), Rami, Lucy, Joe, and Gwilym form the Killer Queens, a vigilante group aimed on destroying the new government, and the cold-blooded dictator, Cornelius Vanzant.

Warnings: pregnancy, a whole lot of fluff, implied smut

A/N: this is the longest chapter yet, but trust us...it’s worth it. 

Masterlist for this story and our other works can be found in both of our profile descriptions!

You and Ben went back to the hospital a few hours later. You’d spent some more time walking, talking, and watching Frankie try to eat random things along the path. It was around dinnertime when you returned, so the two of you made your way to the cafeteria. You saw the rest of your group at a table, chatting about something.

“Hello gentlemen and Lucy,” Ben said, pulling out a chair for himself. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Lucy mumbled, picking at her oatmeal with a spoon.

Gwilym sighed. “Lucy, you gotta eat. You haven’t had anything all day.”

“I’m fine,” Lucy snapped, setting her spoon down.

“Okay, well, if you don’t eat for yourself, eat for the baby.” Gwilym slid his plate with a dinner roll on it over to her. Begrudgingly, Lucy picked up the roll and took a large bite out of it.

“Happy now?” she asked, rolling her eyes.

Gwilym nodded. “Yes, actually.” Lucy then took the rest of the roll and threw it in Gwilym’s face. It landed down on the table with a soft thud.

Trying to distract her, you started talking. “So, Lucy, have you thought of names yet?”

Lucy looked over at you, and you couldn’t tell if she wanted to cry or strangle you. “Samuel if it’s a boy, Heaven if it’s a girl.”

You smiled. “That’s cute.”

“Whatever.” Lucy slid her oatmeal away.

“We haven’t even talked about baby names yet,” Ben said. Your eyes went wide, and you kicked him in the shin as hard as you could under the table. He winced, realizing what he’d just said.

Joe looked up at you both, frowning. “And why would you?”

“Because we want to be prepared!” you said quickly. “You know, every woman has a list of baby names somewhere. If we wanna have kids when this war is over, gotta be ready with that kind of stuff!”

Ben nodded a little too vigorously. “Yep, that’s it! That’s all I meant!”

Joe pressed his lips together. “Oooookay…” He went back to eating his dinner.

You sighed in relief; at least Ben hadn’t said something more obvious.

---

Later that night, you and Ben sat up late again, this time talking about the wedding.

“Do you suppose we could find a priest?” You were snuggled up next to him, playing with a little bit of his hair. It hadn’t been cut in forever, and the natural curls were becoming more prominent by the day.

“Maybe. There’s a church down the street. We could always check there.” Ben grabbed your other hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Yeah, you can see the lights on at night if you look out Joe’s window.” Churches and other religious institutions were basically the only places that remained open. Church services were still held, pastors could still pray for people who were struggling, and it gave many people hope that things could get better.

“We can go check tomorrow.” Ben placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Let’s just sleep for now.”

You nodded sleepily. “M’kay. Goodnight.” You yawned. “I love you.”

He smiled. “I love you too.”

---

“We’re engaged.”

Joe blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry, what?!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Ben ‘proposed’ yesterday while we were in the garden. He really just blurted out the words, but we’ll count it as a proposal.”

Joe stared at you both in shock. “Huh??”

“(Y/n),” Ben started, enunciating each word, “and I, are getting, married.”

Joe shook his head. “Okay, I think I got it now. Why are you telling me and not anyone else?”

“Because we’re going down to that church a block or so away to see if we can find a priest, and we wanted you to come with us,” you explained.

“All right, sounds good,” Joe said, still obviously shocked. “When?”

You and Ben paused. “Now?”

Joe sighed. “Yeah, okay, that’s fine. I’ll go, uh, grab a gun or something and meet you at the front entrance.”

You smiled, pulling Joe in for a hug. “Thank you, Joe, it means a lot to us.”

Joe returned your hug, patting you on the back. “No problem, you guys are my best friends.”

“Um, I am the sole best friend.” Ben pushed the two of you apart, wrapping his arms around Joe.

“We can share Joe,” you reasoned, laughing as you hugged Joe on his other side.

“No.” Ben shoved you away gently by your face. You exaggerated stumbling over and into a wall.

Joe chuckled. “It’s like you’re already married.”

---

The church was packed. People were sleeping on cots, kneeling at the altar, or talking to each other. The three of you looked around the chapel, trying to find someone who was obviously a priest. You spotted a man at the front of the room, talking to an old woman, wearing priest robes.

“Well, that was easy.” Ben grabbed your hand, leading the way through the crowds to the priest.

The three of you stood to the side, waiting for the pastor to stop talking to the woman before talking. When he turned to you, he smiled. “Welcome to New Hope Church,” he said, and you immediately felt very relaxed. “My name is Hans Romano. Is there anything I can help you with today?”

Ben wrapped an arm around your waist. “My name’s Ben, and this is (Y/n). I love her more than anything and we want to get married.”

Pastor Romano smiled. “Ah, I love when young couples come in to be married. It shows that we can still have beautiful things in these dark times.”

Ben smiled, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “Yeah, it’s great.”

You giggled, leaning your head onto his shoulder. “We came here for a reason, we can be squishy later.”

“Right, sorry.” Ben cleared his throat. “So, when’s the soonest we could get married?”

Pastor Romano looked at his watch, mumbling to himself. “Baptism at noon, funeral at one-thirty, another baptism at three...how about in four hours?”

You blinked. “Umm...yeah, sure, that works for us.”

“Fantastic.” Paster Romano extended his hand, shaking both your hand and Ben’s. “And, might I ask, who is the man behind you?”

Ben looked over his shoulder, as if he’d forgotten Joe was there. “Oh, that’s my best...man. My best man, Joe Mazzello.”

“Woo!” Joe hollered, disturbing some of the people nearby. “I’ve been promoted!”

You shook your head, smiling. “All right. We’ll be back in four hours.” The three of you rushed out of the church, thinking of all the things that needed to be done in the next few hours.

There was a bridal shop a few blocks down. You went in through a broken window, looking to see what would be left. Ben and Joe went off in search of suits, you went in the other direction to look for a dress. You ended up only finding a few, but one of them was perfect. The skirt billowed out, making it drag on the floor a little. The top had long, lacy sleeves, which were a little long but it was okay, the dress still looked amazing on you. You took it off, putting your normal clothes back on, and went back out into the lobby area.

Joe was standing there, in a suit that was a size too small. You couldn’t help but laugh; he looked ridiculous. His arms were sticking out, and he seemed to not be able to put them down.

“Do you need help?” you asked, giggling.

“Please.”

“Put your arms up.” Joe raised his arms, and you were able to pull the jacket off that way. He thanked you, taking the jacket and going back into the dressing room.

Suddenly, you had an idea. You gasped, turning around to face the dressing rooms. “Ben! We should get Frankie a--” You stopped when you saw your fiance standing there. You’d seen him in a suit before, but something about it being your wedding day made it different. He looked amazing, and it made you stop in the middle of your sentence.

He chuckled at you. “You should close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”

“Uhhh ummmm uhhh…” You still couldn’t really fomulate a sentence.

Ben stepped forward, wrapping both arms around your waist. “Here, let me help.” He leaned his head down, pressing his lips to yours. Suddenly able to move again, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down farther. It was okay until he lost his balance, causing both of you to fall onto the floor, you on top of Ben.

He sighed, combing his fingers through your hair. “You’re so beautiful.”

You put your forehead down on his chest, hiding your blushing face. “Stoppppp,” you said.

You heard the door of Joe’s dressing room open. You moved your head up and saw him looking down at both of you, face palming. “Guys, this probably isn’t the best time.”

You stood up, brushing yourself off. “You need to stop doing that.”

Joe shrugged. “I’m the master of bad timing.”

“I’d say.” Ben said, standing up next to you. He placed a hand on your stomach. “Do you feel okay? That was kind of a hard fall.”

You nodded. “Yeah, we’re okay.”

“Wait.” Joe looked between Ben’s hand (and where it was placed) and Ben’s face. “I-Is she...are you...what?!”

You smiled awkwardly. “Surprise?”

Joe shook his head. “What is happening here?!” He rubbed his temples. “Oooohhh, my God. First Lucy and Rami, and now Rami’s been captured, and now we’ve got yet another baby coming! We can’t deal with all this! This is crazy!”

“I know,” you said, trying not to be upset. “We were careful and everything, we don’t know--”

“CAREFUL?! That’s a lie, you guys try to get it on any time, anywhere, no matter who’s around!” Joe yelled.

“He has a point,” Ben said.

You shook your head. “Well, I’m sorry. It’s not like I set out to make everything more difficult.”

Joe blinked. “No, no no no no, that’s not what I meant at all!” Joe stepped forward, wrapping you up in a hug. “I’m really happy for you. We’re all just under a lot of stress right now. But two babies will make wonderful additions to our large family.”

Ben smiled. “Our kid’s gonna love her Uncle Joe.”

Before you could interject that no one knew if the baby was a boy or a girl, Joe let go of you and smiled. “I get to be Uncle Joe?” he asked, trying to contain his excitement.

You giggled, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I wouldn’t pick anyone else to be the child’s uncle.”

Joe actually let a few tears fall from his eyes. “I love you guys, I hope you know that.” He crouched down so his face was level with your stomach. “And I love you, little squishy baby.”

Ben laughed. “Squishy, I like that.”

“It’s because you’re squishy.” You reached over, pinching his cheek like you would a child’s.

He pushed your hand away, laughing. “I am not squishy.”

“Awww, look at the wittle baby,” Joe said in baby voice, sticking his finger in Ben’s face.

Ben grabbed Joe’s finger, trying to look angry while obviously holding in laughter. “Don’t do that,” he said.

Joe yanked his finger back. “Okay, squishy. Let’s keep getting ready for this awesome wedding.”

“Right, wedding.” You turned around, running back into the dress area. “I have to find a dress for Frankie!”

“What?!” Ben called after you.

---

The three of you went back to the hospital to get a few things. You’d found an infant dress in the shop, which you figured would fit Frankie. You dressed her up, and she wasn’t too pleased. Then, you snuck out into the garden with Ben to pick flowers. You found some primrose in the corner of the garden, plucking up some of the most full and beautiful flowers. Suddenly, a thought occurred to you.

“What are we going to do about rings?” you asked, turning to Ben as he sat off to the side.

He thought about it for a second before leaning over and picking a small daisy bud out of a bush. He curled the stem into a loop, somehow managing to tie it together. “There,” he said, slipping it on his finger to test it. “Perfect.”

You smiled. “Ben, it’s really cute, but what are we going to do when they wither and wilt?”

He shrugged. “We’ll find something. But these’ll work for today.” You nodded, laughing at seemingly nothing. Ben frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you said, fiddling with one of the flowers in your hand. “I’ve just dreamed about this day my whole life. And never in a million years would I think it would be going like this.” You looked up at him, seeing a look of worry on his face. “But I wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.”

Ben smiled, relieved that you hadn’t said something else. “Today’s gonna be great.”

You grinned, letting a tear of joy drip down your cheek. “Yeah,” you said, already getting choked up before the wedding even began. “Yeah, it will be.”

---

The church also had its own little garden at the back of the building. It was much better tended to, as the church had more people and resources to be able to take care of it. There were several different flower bushes and fruit trees, and even a cute little fountain at the center. That fountain was used as the altar for the ceremony.

Frankie, in her little purple dress, with a wicker basket in her mouth, came walking down the makeshift aisle first. The basket was full of petals, which kept falling out and annoying Frankie. She shook her head, causing petals to fly all over the place. She dropped the basket, growling and barking at it. Ben stood next to Pastor Romano and Joe, shaking his head while the other men laughed. Eventually getting over the petals, Frankie ran up to Ben and sat down at his feet.

There wasn’t any music, so you had a bit of a difficult time deciding when to come out from behind a tree and walk down the aisle. When everything had been silent for a little while, you decided now would be as good a time as ever. You stepped out from behind the tree, walking towards your soon-to-be-husband.

“Ah, finally, there she is,” Joe said, only half joking. But Ben wasn’t listening.

He’d seen a lot of beautiful things in his life. He’d seen gorgeous sunsets, he’d been to the beautiful city of Paris, he’d seen the wonders of nature. But for the life of him, he couldn’t think of anything more beautiful and breathtaking than you in your wedding dress. He put a hand over his mouth as tears of happiness streamed down his face. This was a day he’d waited for his whole life. Conditions weren’t perfect, but he and you were there, ready to make the commitment to spend your lives together, until death do you part. And that was plenty for him.

You took your place across from Ben at the fountain altar. He was still crying, which almost made you cry.

“Dearly beloved, we are here today to witness the union of (Y/n) (L/n) and Benjamin Hardy in marriage,” Pastor Romano began. He motioned to Joe, who was chosen to speak about your relationship because you had only just met this pastor that morning.

“These two were destined to be together from the moment they first met,” Joe said. “We were confident enough in this that our friend Gwilym and I started making bets about various things, like--”

“Joe,” you warned.

“Right, sorry.” Joe cleared his throat. “Well, these two have always been completely in love with each other. You can just tell any time they’re in a room together. They’re like two pieces in one set, you don’t get (Y/n) without Ben. They’ve been each other’s rocks in these difficult years. My point is, I’ve never met two people more meant for each other than these two.” Joe wiped a tear away, acting like an emotional father.

The pastor nodded, smiling. “And who here supports the marriage of these two people?”

Joe raised his hand slowly, Frankie just wagged her tail.

Pastor Romano went on to talk about you and Ben cherishing each other and how marriage was a lifetime commitment and how you needed to be there for each other and help each other through difficult times. It was a bunch of things you two already knew and had thought about, but hearing a pastor say it made the marriage seem more real.

“And now, we will have the couple read their vows to each other.” Pastor Romano motioned to Ben, indicating that he could start talking.

“Okay.” Ben stared down at his feet, as if trying to think of what to say first. “Wow, I don’t really know where to start, I didn’t have time to write any of this down. (Y/n), I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything. When we first met, I knew I was falling for you. We became best friends, and I knew from then on I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I didn’t care if you felt the same way or not, but I knew how true my feelings were. Then, we became more than best friends. These past two years haven’t exactly been how I pictured spending my life with you, but it's made us grow stronger in each other. Then, to find out you're carrying my baby, I didn’t think I could love you any more than I already did, but I love you more today than I ever thought possible.” Ben paused for a second, sniffling. “You’ve made me a better person. When I’m with you, I’m fully myself. I am eternally and infinitely thankful for you. You’re my best friend, and you make me live. I love you.”

You were sobbing at that point. Joe was also sobbing, as you could see, but he was doing a much better job of being quiet about it. “Well, how am I supposed to compete with that?” you asked, causing everyone to laugh. “I mean, what do I say to the man who’s given me everything I’ve ever wanted, and more?” You brushed a tear away. “Ben, you are the love of my life. I don’t know what I did to deserve having such an amazing boyfriend, fiance, and now husband. If I look into the future, I don’t see any point in time when I’m not with you. There’s no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. If our child has to be born into a world like this, I’m glad knowing they’ll have a father like you, who will protect them and love them with everything. Ben, all I know and all I need is you. You are a light in this dark time, and I have never been as happy as I am at this moment. I love you with all I have, even the butterflies in my stomach.”

Once you were done speaking, Pastor Romano turned around and picked up the makeshift daisy rings from the fountain ledge. You and Ben slipped the rings onto each other’s fingers, excitedly waiting for the special kiss you knew was coming.

“Benjamin Hardy, do you take (Y/n) (L/n) to be your wife, to love and to hold, until death do you part?” the pastor spoke.

“I do,” Ben said, taking in a deep breath and smiling.

“And do you, (Y/n) (L/n), take Benjamin Hardy to be your husband, to love and to hold, until death do you part?”

“I do,” you said, squeezing Ben’s hand.

“Then I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Ben wasted no time cupping your face with his hands and kissing you. You grabbed on to his jacket, pulling him closer to you. This was the moment you’d always dreamed of, and it was perfect.

You pulled apart after what felt like minutes, but was probably only a couple of seconds. Ben immediately pulled you back in for a hug, squeezing you around your shoulders as hard as he could.

“C’mon Frankie, bring it in.” Joe, you saw over Ben’s shoulder, had picked up Frankie and was placing a little kiss on her wet nose. She started licking at his face, causing Joe to smile.

Once you and Ben pulled away, you thanked Pastor Romano for the beautiful ceremony, gathered all the flower petals Frankie had left everywhere, and began to head back to the hospital.

“Well, Mrs. Hardy, I think it’s time to go home.” Ben placed a kiss on the top of your head as you smiled at the new name.

---

About halfway home, Ben sent Joe and Frankie on without the two of you. You were confused until he pointed to an old record store. You were able to go in the front door, which was strangely unlocked.

“I just think we need some music sometimes,” Ben explained, digging around in a box on the floor. “You can pick out the actual record player.”

You walked over to the record players, frowning. They were all covered in dust and some were badly damaged. You managed to find one towards the back of the store that was in fairly good condition, but would need to be wiped down back in your room.

“Mrs. Hardy, come look at what I found!” Ben called.

You laughed, finding your husband rummaging through a different box. “I think that has a ring to it,” you said, kneeling down next to him.

“It does, that’s why I’m going to keep saying it.” Ben slid a record out of the box, dusting it off. “Look, it’s a whole box of Queen albums.”

The album in his hands was Sheer Heart Attack, and the album cover had all four band members sprawled across it. You chuckled, pointing to Roger’s face. “He always made me laugh,” you said, suddenly quite sad.

Ben sighed. “I miss them,” he admitted. “I really wish we could’ve saved them.”

You nodded, trying not to cry again. “They’re in a better place now,” you said.

Ben sniffled. “I know. It still just hurts sometimes.” He slid the record back into the box. “We’re taking these...and this!” He reached over and grabbed a different record from another box. You looked at it and giggled.

“Classic love songs?” you asked.

“Well, yeah!” Ben exclaimed. “We just got married, these will be perfect to listen to.”

You smiled, picking the record player off the floor. “Well, my dearest husband, let’s go do that then.”

Ben picked up the box of records, smirking at you. “And what else do you think we should do tonight?”

“Umm...pillow fight?” you asked, feigning innocence.

Ben rolled his eyes, smiling with awestruck love. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

---

You got back to the hospital, hurrying up to your room to try to figure out the record player. You eventually got it dusted off enough for it to work, and decided to start the night with the classic love songs record. Ben set the record in place, putting the needle down just so, and the music began to play.

The first song was Can You Feel The Love Tonight by Elton John. It was slowly getting dark outside, but the remnants of the sunset were visible through the window. The lights were out, and everything was quiet, except for the lovely music.

Ben slowly took your hand in his, bringing himself closer to you. “I’m glad we did that today,” he said.

You nodded, looking up to meet his eyes. “Me too.”

Without much warning, Ben crashed his lips into yours. You held onto his arms to keep from falling over. Eventually, however, you dragged the two of you down onto your makeshift mattress anyway.

Ben hovered over you, propping himself up with his arms on either side of your head. Your fingers messed with the buttons on his dress shirt, trying to get them undone, when you just decided to rip the shirt open, glad to be able to get it off of him.

“Eager, are we?” Ben rasped, laughing.

“Oh, shut up.” You grabbed his face, pulling his lips back into yours.

Ben tugged at the fabric of your dress. “You should take this off,” he said.

“Ummm... I think there’s a zipper in the back?” you said.

“Fuck it.” Ben grabs a bit of the dress and yanks on it, ripping the fabric and exposing your chest.

You smirked up at him. “Okay, and now we’re even.”

“I’d say so,” he said lowly, attaching his lips to your neck. You dug your fingernails into his bare back, trying your hardest to be quiet. He trailed a line of kisses down your neck, chest, and finally to your stomach, where he stopped.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I...um...uh…” He paused for several seconds. “This may sound stupid, but I thought about it a little bit, and I’m really scared I’m gonna hurt the baby.”

You chuckled, covering your mouth with your hand. “What?”

“Plain and simple, I don’t want my dick to hurt our child.” He looked rather sad, which only seemed to make you laugh harder.

“Ben, honey no.” You snorted. “That’s not how that works. There’s no way you could hurt the baby by having sex with me.”

Ben cocked an eyebrow. “You’re sure?” he asked.

“Yes, Ben, I know how the female body works.”

He seemed hesitant as he moved back up so his face was above yours again. “I trust that you’re not lying to me…”

“As you should.”

“And you still want to do this?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Only if you want to.”

“And what if--?”

“Ben! Nothing is going to go wrong! Now stop asking questions and fuck me already!”

It took both of you a good fifteen minutes of laughing before Ben could do anything of the sort.

---

You trailed a finger down his chest, sighing contentedly. “This day couldn’t have gone any better,” you murmured.

Ben twirled a piece of your hair with his fingers. “I couldn’t agree more.” He kissed the top of your head. “I love you, you know that?”

You laughed. “No, we got married for shits and giggles.”

He chuckled. “Mrs. Hardy, you are the love of my life, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Smiling, you tilted your head up and pressed a kiss onto his lips. “I love you too, my husband.”

He closed his eyes, holding you closer as you both drifted off to sleep.

Tags: @dumbthotsonly @xquiet-thoughtsx @virtualsheepeat @stella2445 @pietrorunsforme @dovexparker @amostpeculiarmademoisellerp @mr-stank-i-dont-feel-so-dank @harrysniallpolish (i don’t think i forgot anyone? if I did or if you want to be added, send an ask or DM)

[coureirsix]

remember when i went out to the sundance film festival and my first movie screening THAT I CHOSE TO GO TO was this.... wack christian film that wasn’t even narratively sound but i went because walton goggins played this rattlesnake handling priest and i needed to see if he did anything similar to joe mazzello being the snake handling priest in justified

that was a time.

[ursoself-satisfying]

My Sweet Lord (ch1)

dude is that fucking brenda song?? lol i forgot he was in social network w her what a world huh??? 

Chapter One - Genesis 3:23 

Priest!Joe Mazzello x F!Reader, SFW, 2.5k words 

My Sweet Lord masterlist 

A/N: ugh this is super short but its rly just kind of an intro,,,, I’m testing the  waters here,,,, idk why this was so hard for me to write like its not as good as I want it to be but I’m ok w it rn,,, I might come back n rewrite it real soon n go in n change that so be warned lol but i’m rly excited for where this is going to go cus I do have a lot planned its just getting jumbled in translation lol but enjoy!!

special thanks given in this post!! you can find whole accompanying laylists there as well not just single associated songs!!!  

Warning(s): none rn,, unless a priest being kinda into u or u being into a priest is bad cus thats gonna be this whole fucking series m8 so if u dont enjoy defiling holy ground n religious imagery i suggest u move on sorry!!! 

The church was filled to the brim with life, with colors and sounds. There were your newest acquaintances, knitting in the corner. They were the main source of the commotion, all shrill laughs, and clacking needles. On the pews further ahead were some children, and a man attempting to corral them but failing in the end. The squeals of the kids echoed through the crowds and came to where you stood at the entrance. When you took in the scene, you were surprised the doors could even close given how the entire town had flocked to its sonorous halls this cold Sunday morning. Inside it was somehow still just as bright like the blinding clouds had followed your shadow.

Though you’d admittedly been to few churches in your lifetime, this one you were sure was exceptionally stunning. How such a grand masterpiece ended up out in these boonies was beyond you. You had felt a bit silly at first, attending mass at all but then you saw the steeple and then there you were, standing in awe of how the building seemed to soar above you. The view of it as you had driven up the small hill was impossible to replicate, how the belltower rose over the rolling grass like the sun that unknowingly led you the dawn of your new life. In your juvenile appreciation of its architecture, you lost yourself in the way the worn stone of the support beams still held the tall ceilings up like pillars of salt to the heavens.

Pillars of salt, you thought, was a fitting image for your situation. Surely you must have blended right into the columns, tributes to every other woman who approached religion and turned their heads back. You were ripped from your runaway thoughts, though, by the bustle of bodies behind you and the urging but ultimately gentle hand that came to squeeze your upper arm. Beatrice stopped at your side and looked up at you with shining, young eyes that got lost in the folds of her lids when she smiled.

There was somehow a familiar and comforting aura about her and when she touched you a blanket of trust always came with the contact. With the top of her auburn beehive just reaching your eyes, her bent body led you to the very front pew and gestured for you to take a seat on the sandalwood. You did as told with a thin smile, still distracted by the arched ceiling of the chapel around you.

As you waited in the congregation for the priest to begin his sermon, your mind wandered to the morning, how the belltower rose, tall and white, over the rolling green hills like the first sun dawning on a new world. Impossible to replicate. It was an unknowing sign of things to come. The church wasn’t something you expected to ever return to much less for it to become something you looked forward to, something that would end up being such a large part of your life. That was all yet, to come through, for, at this moment, your thoughts weren’t busied by the future but rather by the thought of the blinding white exterior of this place of worship, how bright it had been in those early hours.

The organ began and its resonance nearly shook you from your seat, but it certainly caught your attention as intended. The people rose in unison, you doing your best to follow, unfamiliar with the practices seeing as your last time in mass would have been before you were able to remember anything about it. The songs, though, were vaguely familiar, maybe reminiscent of something you’d heard on the radio, seeing as this town picked up almost purely religious stations.

You moved your mouth along to the words, not knowing exactly what they were but doing your best to look like you were competent. The song ended and you sat, grateful it was over, huffing a bit when your body hit the wood. The father beside you gave you an awkward smile when you attempted to cover your relief with a cough and a straightening of your back.

Then when you looked up from your awkward encounter-

Were you very religious? Not particularly, but when in Rome, do as the Romans, right? So when in church, pray. Maybe there had been a little prayer going on in your heart since you entered the building, hell, since you entered the town, a prayer for good things to come, and God must have heard those unintentional prayers because behold before you was what must have been an angel.

He walked slowly to the podium, robes dragging behind him and a glow seeming to emanate from the crown of his head. He seemed like the only living proof of a God that you could find in the whole of the chapel. His hair was wispy, auburn, and looked so soft, reminding you of clouds, and maybe cotton candy if cotton candy were brandy flavored. Bronze, you thought would be the right shade.

The stained glass behind him spread like wings, angels on either side surely singing of his beauty and softness. The haze of his arrival washed over you and you were enraptured. You never thought someone could so quickly feel this way. The romcoms were nice, but they were unrealistic, and most definitely did not happen to you of all people. Completely prepared to shove down these feeling, deep down underneath the mattress of your soul and leave them there to rot, you allowed yourself to enjoy the sermon, or at the very least, enjoy the priest.

God, your gaze hadn’t dropped past his eyebrows before you completely fell. His eyes were soft, pleading, forgiving, but young and curious as well. His nose? You adored immediately. He had, in the kindest way, what you would have referred to as an ‘old man’ nose, a little long, strong, gave him an impeccable silhouette that shown like a holy imagine again the early morning backlight, sun streaming from the tall windows behind him. His chin was soft and cleanshaven, his lips, soft and puffy and lush and looking simply perfect to kiss.

Kiss? You shook your head briefly, half attempting to banish these thoughts you knew you shouldn’t be thinking, but having been so completely lost in his image that you had missed the beginning of his sermon. The congregation spoke back at him at certain times, words you vaguely remembered from childhood. The echoes of “and also with you” kept you anchored to reality as you struggled not to get lost in the languid movements he made as he moved about behind the podium. He spoke animatedly about- Well, you weren’t exactly paying attention, but you did notice how he spoke with his hands, waving them about when he said something about the glory and grace that has been granted so many. His hands were long and thin and surely would be long and thin enough to fit perfectly between your-

The organ boomed through the hall and shook you from your daydream, again, and you, again, tried to lipsync your way through the unfamiliar hymn and failing, again. You had stood for the song, and the stretch was welcome after clenching your thighs so obviously together for so long, but when you sat back down, the cool of the wood and the wetness of your panties made you visibly shudder. Dear, sweet, Beatrice placed a feeble hand on your arm as a sign of concern, along with her shakily drawn on eyebrows being raised. Gripping her wrinkled hand carefully, you smiled, tight-lipped, as a reply of ‘I’m fine’.

You again turned from your elderly friend to the man at the front of the room, the one who demanded your attention with his repetition and his- He smiled, all teeth, cheeks puffing up. A sharp intake of breath was all you could muster before he began to pray. The rest of those looking on seemed to know what to do and you did your best to imitate, but as he pushed his hair back, your lips fell apart and you crossed your legs in desperation, his clergy status seeming to only turn you on more. Fuck, you chastised your own attraction to the taboo. As clandestine as it may have been, though, God, did it turn you on.

“Lord have mercy,” he said, voice effortlessly both round and light.

“Lord have mercy,” you pleaded breathlessly.

“Christ have mercy.” His eyes rose to meet yours for the first time and you choked.

“Christ have mercy” came out like a whine under your breath, unheard under the rest of the mass, but you knew he saw your chest rise and fall heavily as you seemingly tried to breathe in his prayer and send it back to him.

“Lord have mercy.” His own voice wavered when he saw you, red in the face and out of breath. His gaze didn’t move from you as you mouthed the words back at him.

“Lord have mercy.”

Unbeknownst to you, this was not, in fact, the first time he’d laid eyes on you. He had been watching you, side-eyed, the whole service. If his peripheral served him right, you had been the one with your eyes glued to him since he’d first emerged from his chambers. He saw you stand out in the mass, the last of the congregation to sit down after prayers or songs. He was unable to tell whether this was due to you being distracted or inexperienced, or both, but it caught his attention without catching yours, darting his own away just in time as to not catch your gaze. It seemed to work so long as he kept his focus on the other side of the chapel, though the magnetism of your attentive gaze was hard to resist. The man didn’t let himself give in, not until he somehow heard your barely audible repetitions after those of the congregation. Then you saw one another, caught in the undeniable stare of interest. Suddenly, his lungs felt like iron on his chest and he struggled to finish praying.

Again, you were pulled down by the older woman next to you, unaware everyone had been seated and for a moment it was just you and him, standing and caught in this sudden whirlwind of unknown attraction. The world seemed to dissolve around you, focus seeming to blur and leave you with tunnel vision on the holy man. His sermon paused for a moment as he stared at you and smiled softly. You could feel his eyes fall down your body, but then his voice picked up again, being carried over your head in smooth, calming waves and you were lost, again, in his presence that loomed over the crowd like the hanging branches of a willow on a sticky summer day. For the remainder of his sermon, you focused less on his words and more on the mystery that might be hiding beneath those layers and layers of robes that dragged behind him.

If you asked Joe why you caught his attention, he would tell you that you were the first young and clearly not familial woman he had seen in town since his arrival. This was true, that in a town occupied only by elderly folks and new families, you were the first young face he had seen in a long time. Of course, it didn’t help that he found you incredibly attractive and that, as a newly appointed man of the cloth, he had been experiencing somehow more temptations than ever before.

Every verse he read was budding with new meaning and potential, every lust soaked gaze sent your direction waning to go through with it. There was, of course, a pang in his heart every time the thought of you passed through his head. The allure of a woman who was neither the age of his grandmother nor heavily with child was far more than it should it have been. Father Joe knew it was wrong, that he must keep his mind as clean as his body, his thoughts as clean as his actions. “Good thoughts, good words, good deeds,” he said aloud to the congregation, using his slip as some kind of holy motivation.

Another song followed, then a prayer and every time he stood the priest had to force his eyes forward, away from the direction you were sitting. His thoughts went back to the way your skirt slid up your thigh when you sat down and how you must have known how much skin you were showing but when his eyes met yours with one final, united “Amen”, he knew you were too distracted to have noticed.

You watched the priest with unintentional intensity, looking as though you were spaced out, lost in thought and caught on his words, but the reality was that you were simply entranced. All the time you’d spent in this town so far and you had yet to see anyone as young and painfully unavailable as him. Though in the back of your mind you wondered how fidelious some of these new husbands were, you had settled with remaining single, that is, until now. What was more delicious than a man who was not only gorgeous, mature, and clearly into you already, but also one so out of reach, so taboo and clandestine. The beating of your heart when he would slip up and land his eyes on your form a little too long thrummed against the bars of your ribcage like Morse code, an aching organ begging to be hurt.

The service had ended and Beatrice had eagerly joined her group of cawing old ladies, but not before kindly introducing you to the sweet-faced Father that had spoken today. “Darling, this is Father Mazzello, he’s new to the Ridge.” Her smile was sickly sweet and you couldn’t help but smile back, keeping your eyes from the man approaching you.

He’d traded the excess robes for a simple black ensemble already and when he approached you and, God, he looked even better now. His hand was extended to you firmly, holding back any eagerness behind a front of eminence and dignity. Beatrice spoke again as you finally lifted your longing gaze from his nimble, capable, horribly inspiring hands, up his arms, across his shoulders, and finally to his green eyes. They were so much prettier up close. “Father Mazzello,” your friend spoke warmly, “this is [Y/N]. The dear has been staying with me and I’ve finally convinced her to get a bit of God in her.” She laughed and you took the man’s extended hand, holding it motionless.

“I would love a bit of God in me,” you laughed quietly, hopefully only loud enough for him to hear.

Joe swallowed dryly at your low comment and the softness of your hand, “It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N],” he smiled crookedly, “and you can call me Joe.”

[gingerwerk]

Hey so this may be a weird question that I'm not sure anyone might know the answer to lol, but is Joe Mazzello a Christian? I know he was raised Catholic and his brother is a priest, but I wonder if Joe is religious...

yeah dude i have no idea. i dont think he’s ever brought it up 

[alcordraws]

Have some more priest au featuring some of ramiel’s seven sin forms, which are basically josh, snafu, and ahk

[ursoself-satisfying]

My Sweet Lord - Masterlist

Priest!Joe Mazzello x F!Reader 

to become NSFW 

thanks n playlists 

Chapter 1: Genesis 3:23 - a simple intro, 2.5k words, SFW 

Chapter 2: I’m On Fire - Joe struggles internally, 3.5k words, NSFW 

my complete masterlist