The Who One Shots and Imagines

Writing Block- John

You wake up to the sound of your front door opening. Dazed and confused you check the time,

    4:00 A.M.

John was home from the studio and you hear him in the kitchen grabbing something to eat. You sit up and wait for him to join you in bed.

You give him a warm smile as he walks in, and he returns your smile with a sleepy, exhausted one.

    "How was work today, love?" You ask as he sits down.

You rub his back as he mutters about Petes perfectionism and his writing block. Pete wanted to write two 'nasty' songs for Tommy but he couldn't stomach to write them, so he gave the task to John. Poor John couldn't go to bed yet- he had to finish writing at least one song before he went back to the studio later that day. He tells you his ideas for the songs and you entertain them and give suggestions.

He sighs and gets off the bed to walk to your shared home office/music room. You follow him out of the room and start making him a tea in the kitchen.

You see him in the office as you bring him his tea- he's laying out his paper and pencil for writing. He thanks and kisses you as you hand him the tea. You run your fingers through his dark hair and stand behind him watching his creative process. You admire his sharp features that were enhanced from the dim, yellow lit lamp on the side of the desk. He develops a thoughtful expression and you decide to leave him with those thoughts, to not be a distraction to him.

John has always had a dark sense of humor that peeks through when he writes. His task wasn't an easy one, the subjects of the song made you a little sick to your stomach. He had already titled the songs and jotted down a few sadistic lyrics that would be included in "Cousin Kevin".

You go to make yourself a tea and find your way back to the office. You sit on the couch and watch him strum different chords on the guitar trying to find ones that fit well together. The room is silent- except for the guitar. You watch his hands slide up and down the neck of the guitar and carefully watch how he positions his fingers. You had always had a thing for musicians and there was something about watching them play the guitar that really mesmerizes you. You notice the rough, calloused finger tips as they glide up and down. The thought of those tender and strong hands touching you and his calloused fingers brushing against you was one of the main reasons you stayed up and watched him write.

You start to doze off to the lull of John playing the guitar and awake to a soft, but deep voice in your ear. You feel a hand graze along your back and you flutter your eyes open. It's John telling you to wake up and that he's finished the song.

You check the time,

    6:00 A.M.

Both of you are exhausted and walk to the bedroom. The silence and sleepy glances were an unspoken mutual agreement that you would be hearing the finished song tomorrow.

The sun begins to peek into the bedroom and accentuates the purple bedsheets. John recoils to this light so you groggily shut the curtains as he takes off his shirt. Darkness washes the room and you can hear John sigh with relief. You begin to unhook your bra under your shirt and it gets stuck. You're so tired and frustrated that you let out a groan. John is well aware of this defeated groan and walks over to you.

    "Here." He lowers your arms and unhooks your bra.

You take it off but keep your white t-shirt on that fits snug on your chest. John gets into his boxers as you take off your pants. You watch his broad shoulders hunch over as he bends down. You admire his tall frame and watch closely as he tiredly takes off his clothes. You climb into bed together and intertwine, holding each other as close as possible to keep warm in the freezing bedroom. The room looked more like a cave, and felt like one too. John liked to stay in darkness and the cold, he found it more comforting. That was something you both agreed on.

You tuck a piece of his dyed and grown out hair behind his ear and gently swipe your thumb over his cheek. He kept his eyes shut but wrapped his hand further in your hair in response. You wrapped your legs tighter around his and snuggle into him. He had been working all week and you had missed him dearly, but now he's at home in your arms. At least for now, and that's all that mattered.

Hi! I'm sorry I haven't written in forever, it was homecoming week all last week- a very busy, busy week. I hope you enjoyed it because I just wrote this stoned out of my mind (still am lmfao) and I have no idea if it makes sense or is grammatically correct. ALSO!- feel free to message me for requests :)
- Alex <3