ai-suru-hito-yo - Tumblr blog

ai-suru-hito-yo · 6 years ago

Text

Calling You (Gardner Langway x Reader)

Summary: You and Gardner have been in a relationship for about a year now. Things are going great, the ups make the downs completely worth it, and you’re so in love with this goofball it almost hurts. Based on Calling You by Blue October.

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, probably rambling, very light references to possible smut but nothing detailed or explicit, some angst but I only write happy endings.

A/N: Sorry I don’t have the next part of WFSTRM ready yet! My dumb ass almost forgot I signed up for this event so I’ve been working on pumping this baby out. It’s just a lot of projection, honestly, because I am lonely and would very much like a cute and goofy ginger of my own (ahem Joe Mazzello hmu) Not beta’d because what are this? Written for @littledarlingwellaway ‘s 1k/Birthday extravaganza! Lyrics in italics. Timeline jumps around through different events in the relationship.

There's something that I can't quite explain

I'm so in love with you

You'll never take that away

You stared at the popcorn ceiling of your bedroom in your tiny apartment. No matter how long you stared, no matter how many little bumps you counted, sleep would not come. It was quiet except for a dog barking in the distance, and the quiet, deep breathing of the man currently sprawled across your chest, auburn locks in disarray after the number of times he had nervously run his fingers through his hair.

You and Gardner had just experienced your first real fight. You had been together for about 8 months now, and those months had been filled with mostly bliss, minus a bump or two in the road as you navigated the newness of suddenly finding someone else and their needs a part of your life. You had been out at date night, and Gardner said something accidentally insensitive (And what was it anyway? You could not possibly recall anymore, it was so trivial.) You had a bad day at work and immediately took the comment to heart, resulting in a serious overreaction and argument to end the night. You had fled home, only to see Gardner running up the sidewalk about 20 minutes later, a look of utmost determination on his face.

Finally, after talking things through and lots of reassurance, he finally passed out on your bed with you, wrapped entirely around your body, as if afraid you might slip away in the night if he failed to keep you anchored.

You looked down at his face, peaceful and relaxed in his sleep, looking paler than usual and downright ethereal in the moonlight streaming through your window. His plush lips parted slightly as he exhaled, and you studied last dark eyelash as they fanned against his pale cheeks. Your fingers gently brushed through his wild hair, and he stirred slightly. You froze, afraid the touch had woken him, but all he did was rub his face against your sweater before the sound of deep breaths filled the room once again.

As you resumed your stroking of his hair, you realized that whatever it was you had argued about was unimportant. You knew you loved Gardner, there was absolutely no doubt in your mind how you felt about the goofy, soft, awkward, beautiful man with his boat and his stamp collection and his zest for life and his unrelenting passion for the people and the things he cared about. You felt your eyelids slowly droop closed as you took comfort in the weight of your boyfriend pressing into you, keeping you safe and warm and loved.

And if I've said a hundred times before

Expect a thousand more

You'll never take that away

The first time he said it was an accident. He had truly not thought about it, not taken the time to really analyze how he felt about you, caught up as he was in the exhilaration of finding you and learning about you and developing this new, wonderful thing with you.

It was the simplest thing, too, that made him say it. He had been trying to make you laugh, telling you about some of the dumb suggestions Calvin had made as far as his next employment opportunity after he had quit being a mailman. Some throw-away comment that he made just as you had reached for your drink caused you to laugh and nearly drop the glass, which just caused you to laugh even more. Your eyes lit up and you threw your head back in mirth, letting out an unrestrained laugh, loud and happy, and it just hit him.

“God, I love you.”

Your laughter died down to soft giggles, before you realized what exactly he said. Your smile was still plastered on your face, but your eyes grew wide in shock. “W-what?”

“Um, I said I- yeah, yeah, I love you. I really do.”

You stared at him for a moment, silently, and Gardner could feel his heart rate pick up, his palms going sweaty from nerves. Had he said the wrong thing? Was it too soon? Should he not have said it? He was absolutely certain it was the truth, but now he was terrified he would scare you away.

“I-I'm sorry. I mean, I'm not sorry for how I feel, I won't apologize for that. But I'm sorry if you didn't want to hear that. I'm sorry If that was too soon. I'm really sorr--”

You never found out what else he was sorry for as you grabbed his shirt front and pulled him to you, right there in the middle of the bar, and planted your lips against his, effectively shutting him up for the next few minutes. When you finally pulled away again, you made sure to whisper for Gardner only,

“I love you, too, idiot.”

So expect me to be

Calling you to see

If you're okay when I'm not around

Asking if you love me

I love the way you make it sound

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since your boyfriend had been dragged off by his “brother” on some boys' trip as he had called it, leaving you behind and without his presence for 21 long days. They were due back at the end of the week, seven days that seemed to stretch out like a year before you.

You dragged yourself back home after another long day at work, wanting nothing more than the pint of Rocky Road in your freezer and a nice, long sleep. After a scalding hot shower, you put on your favorite pajamas (fuzzy warm pants and one of Gardner's old, faded t-shirts) and promptly fell asleep before you were even able to so much as braid your hair back for the night.

What must have been several hours later, judging by the darkness outside, you were pulled slowly from a rather deep sleep by an annoying and insistent sound. You reached toward your alarm clock, only to realize that the source of the noise was actually your phone, which you hd left on your bed during your shower and was now lodged somewhere under you. You lifted your leg and dug around, retrieved it from under your thigh, and promptly smashed the volume button before throwing it back down by your pillow. You were just about asleep again when the stupid thing started vibrating, alerting you to another call. This time you decided to answer it, letting out little more than a tired grunt.

“'Lo?”

There was a moment of silence, and then an robotic voice greeted you. “Hello. You have a collect call from,” pause, then a familiar voice, “It's me!!” you sat bolt upright, nearly dropping the phone. “Do you accept the charges?”

“Yes!” you practically scream into the phone. “Yes I accept!”

There was a bit of noise down the line, then quiet for a moment, before you tentatively spoke up again, “Uh...Gardner?”

“Honey I am so sorry it's collect I SWEAR I will pay you back!” Gardner's tired and slightly panicked voice called out to you. “I promise, the moment I get ho-”

“I don't give a shit about that,” you interrupted him, feeling an ache in your chest ease at the sound of his voice. You had been a little worried all day as you had not heard form him or Calvin for nearly three whole days now. Usually Gardner was calling you every night, excitedly telling you where they were now, what they had seen that day, and reassuring you that he loved you and he would be home soon. “Why are you calling collect? Where's your phone? Better yet, where have you been for three days, I've been so worried!”

“I know, I'm sorry,” your boyfriend assured you softly. Then his voice jumped an octave like it always did when he was irritated. “It's not because I didn't want to call, believe me. Let's just say Calvin had a little...mishap...which resulted in all but one of our bags falling into the Mississippi. My phone, my wallet, my camera, all of my clothes, as well as Calvin's phone, wallet, and clothes all in the bottom of a fucking river. Thankfully Calvin had his passport stashed in his car for some reason. We've spent most of today running around trying to get bank cards replaced so we can get back home.”

You sat in silence, stunned by everything your boyfriend had just told you. You could not decide whether to laugh or cry or scream or ask him if he was lying and playing a prank on you. Instead, you just sighed and asked him, “So, you're coming home, then?”

You could almost feel Gardner's sigh through the phone. “Yes. I'm calling it, we're cutting this road trip short and coming home.”

A squeak left your lips as you tried not to scream and cry. He was coming home early! Gardner was coming home, you would hopefully see him as early as tomorrow afternoon, and it was the best news you had heard in a very long time.

“Baby, I am so sorry your trip has ended on a sour note, I really am. I know you guys were really looking forward to boys time, and you deserve it. But I am so excited to see you,” by the time you reached the end of your statement, you were practically whispering, feeling choked up and near tears. You were acting ridiculous, you knew it, but it had really been tough not to have your goofy boyfriend around, your rock and your source of comfort, the one person you had grown so used to being the one constant in you otherwise hectic life, and it was really affecting your mood and your attitude badly.

A soft huff of laughter sounded over the phone, and Gardner asked, “You really miss me that much?” When you failed to answer right away, his tone turned softer and more serious. “Hey, are you okay?”

You sniffed and promptly pulled yourself together. “Yeah, I just miss you, Gardner. I miss you a lot. When will you be back? Where are you even?”

“I miss you, too, (Y/N). We're in some podunk town in southern Missouri right now. It's about a 9 hour drive home, and we're going straight through, no stops-no stops, Calvin!- except bathroom breaks. So sometime tomorrow afternoon.” The smile that split your face was one to rival the Cheshire cat, and you felt yourself relaxing just a little more as you were reassured that you and Gardner would soon be reunited. Thankfully, you had the whole next day off to plan a little something for just the two of you to enjoy after being apart, a little welcome home party.

“Okay,” you said quietly, phone pressed hard to your ear, as if that would suddenly make the physical distance between you smaller. “I guess I'll see you tomorrow.”

You let out a yawn and heard Gardner laughing down the line. “I'll let you go, honey. I just really needed to hear your voice and to tell you that I'm coming home.”

“I'm glad you did,” you told him honestly. “I had a really shit day, but it's all better now that I know I'll get to see you soon.”

“You still love me?” Gardner asked, and you chuckled.

“Of course I do, silly,” you assured him. “To the moon and back.”

“I know,” your boyfriend told you. “I just love hearing you say it. And I love you, too. More than anything.”

You rang off with promises that you would be home all day and that he could come over as soon as he was back in town. Feeling much warmer and more relaxed, you held the shirt up close to your nose, breathing in the lingering scent of Gardner's soap and distinct smells, and fell asleep with plans for the following evening swirling in your mind.

I thought that the world had lost its sway

Then I fell in love with you

And you took that away

You take away the old

Show me the new

You and Gardner had met shortly after he had gone through a really rough patch in his life. You did not know many details, but from what you gathered after a slightly tipsy conversation with Calvin, Gardner had just lost his job and experienced his first real heartbreak before you came into his life. Well, fell in (quite literally).

You had been in a hurry, rushing to find lunch on your short break from work, and all but ran into a cafe down the street. Unfortunately, someone had been about to step out when you reached to push the door open, and you promptly tripped over them and fell at their feet.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry!” a voice called out to you, and a hand circled your arm and helped pull you back to your feet. You brushed off your dress before you caught sight of a pair of feet still in front of you. Your eyes slowly made their way up a pair of legs, up, up, up, until you were looking into a pair of kind and rather stunning hazel eyes. The man before you looked to be about your age, with a strong nose and sharp jawline, skin so pale it was almost translucent, a bright shock of messy, red hair, and a slight smile. Despite the purple shadows under the man's eyes and the general tired look to him, the man was a cutie, and you could feel your face start to heat up as you realized you had been staring for far too long now.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, snapping out of your thoughts. “It's um, no problem. My fault, actually. Should have been paying more attention. Um, I'm (Y/N), by the way. Not that you should care, I'm just some strange girl from off the street.” You were rambling now and you knew it, but you could not seem to make yourself stop. Cutie seemed to be having a strange affect on you and you lost your mental filter entirely.

“I'll...just go now,” you said, promptly turning back to the cafe door, intending to scurry off back to work, appetite gone.

“I don't think you're strange,” Cutie suddenly spoke up.

“What?” you had stopped in your tracks, quickly turning back to him.

“I don't think you're strange,” he said again. “Although, it might seem a little strange for you to walk out of here, empty handed, after having just walked in.”

“Oh. Well I-uh,” you stammered, looking for some excuse, a reason to make a quick getaway. Oh, why doesn't a sinkhole just open up and swallow me whole, you thought as you realized you were caught out.

“Come on, I'm buying you a smoothie,” the stranger said, turning toward the counter before stopping and turning toward you again. “I'm Gardner, by the way.”

Calvin told you he came home that night, smiling for the first time in weeks, and had not stopped since.

“He wouldn't shut up about you, actually,” he said, leaning quite close before pushing himself off of your shoulder back to an upright position. “It was '(Y/N) this' and '(Y/N) that' for three whole days before I asked him if he even got your phone number or anything.”

You glanced at Gardner, who was pink faced and avoiding eye contact with you at the moment, remembering how you had seen him again in the same cafe five days later, and seemed strangely relieved when you pulled a pen from your purse and wrote your number on the back of his hand, telling him he could use it sometime if he wants. It had been a further week after that before he called you, and now you understood why. He had his heart broken, and was probably not entirely keen on repeating the experience.

You stood on slightly wobbly legs and made your way around the table to your boyfriend, wrapped your arms around his neck and perched yourself on his lap. He finally looked up at you, though still a bit reluctant, and you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

He smiled up at you, and you leaned in to press a gentle kiss to the curve of his lips for good measure.

“What's that for?” he asked, looking up at you with a slight furrow to his brow. You smoothed it with a light touch before answering him.

“Nothing, really. Just wanted to make sure you know that I love you and I'm not going anywhere any time soon.”

It was quiet for a moment as Calvin had run off to who knows where in the house, following whatever crazy idea his alcohol-drenched brain had come up with. You felt more than heard Gardner take a deep breath before he spoke.

“You know you don't have to worry about me, right?” he asked, head tilted back to look up into your eyes now that his brother was no longer present to spill all his secrets.

“What d'you mean?”

“I mean, that stuff is all in the past. Yeah, I was in a funk when I met you, but as soon as you showed up, it was like it all happened to another person. It wasn't me anymore. You replaced all the bad things that I held onto with the good things I hadn't realized I actually needed. The world became easier to navigate. Nothing seemed to bad or so difficult anymore.”

Gardner ended his little declaration with a shrug, as if he had not just finished saying the most beautiful and profound thing someone had ever said to you in your life.

Instead of answering him, you simply stood and pulled him up to his feet. You wrapped your arms back around his neck, pulling him close and pressing your lips to his again. You felt his arms snake around your waist, locking behind your back and pulling you close. After some time that could have been minutes or hours for all the attention you had paid to the outside world at that moment, you pulled away from him, trailing one hand down his arm and interlacing your fingers with his long ones.

“Come on,” you said, pulling him toward the door.

“Where are we going?” he asked with a puzzled look.

You threw a coy smile over your shoulder before giving his hand another tug. “To the boat.”

Calling you to see

Do I try too hard to make you smile

To make a smile

In hindsight, you really should have seen it coming.

A ring your great-grandmother had given you had gone missing off your dresser. You thought you had placed it down next to your favorite apple cider candle, only for it to disappear, causing you to spend three days searching for it. You searched all the usual places, then all the unusual places, even your desk drawers at work, thinking perhaps you had misplaced it, but it was nowhere to be found. You gave up, officially declaring the jewelry lost, and spent the evening at home alone, trying to figure out how you were going to tell your mother that you lost her grandmother's ring.

You decided to drop by Gardner's boat one afternoon after work, only to walk in to him immediately slamming his laptop shut and staring at you with a wide-eyed, guilty look on his face. When you asked what he was doing, he claimed he was looking for something for Calvin.

“He's always trying new recipes, you know, so I thought I'd look some up for him,” he said, slipping the computer onto a shelf and gesturing for you to come sit by him. You were sure this was a lie, as Googling recipes certainly did not warrant such suspicious behavior, but decided to let it slide, as you had no real reason not to believe him.

However, the strange behavior got worse. One afternoon about two weeks later, you and Gardner both had some time off and were spending it together, when he got a phone call and slipped into another room to answer it. This was odd, as he usually only received calls form you, Calvin, or his boss. It certainly was not you on the other line, and he had never felt the need to leave the room for a call from work or his brother before. You knew it was wrong, but you decided to follow him.

He had stepped outside your apartment and into the hallway, so you stood by your door with your ear pressed against it, trying to catch anything you could. He must have been pacing, because you could only catch a few words at a time as the grew louder and then softer again.

“...sure that's right? How much...? ...meet you there at 4 tomorrow...look forward to it...”

You heard him approach your front door and quickly ran into your bathroom and locked the door behind you. You barely registered the front door opening and closing as your breathing picked up and you began to think of all the worst possibilities for his behavior. You did not register Gardner calling out your name before knocking at the bathroom door. The sound pulled you rather suddenly from your panicked thoughts, and you had to quickly sit down on the toilet lid before you fell over.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?” he called through the door, concern evident in his voice. You knew you had to think fast.

“I-I don't feel good,” you called out, which was actually not a lie. You did find yourself suddenly feeling rather ill. “Maybe you should just go home.”

“What?! Are you sick? Unlock the door, let me come in and check on you.”

“No! I um-don't want you to get sick, too. It might be contagious.”

“I don't care. I've been around you all day, if it's contagious I'm gonna get it anyway.”

“Please just go, Gardner,” you called out. “I'm gonna try taking a shower and going to bed early. Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he finally relented, sounded disappointed and defeated. “I hope you feel better soon, honey. I love you.”

“Okay, thanks, you too,” you answered, turning on the shower to hopefully drown out any further disappointed sounds or words. Sleep never came to you that night, and you spent the whole next day wound tighter than a drum and jumping at every noise and movement.

At your lunch break you ducked into the ladies' room, hoping to freshen up a bit and try to get your act together for the afternoon. You stood staring at the dark shadows under your eyes that no amount of concealer would cover up, lost in thought, when your phone suddenly started ringing in your purse, causing you to jerk back violently before stomping your foot in pure frustration. You wrenched it out of your bag and answered it without even looking at who was calling.

“Hello?” you practically shouted into the phone?

“Hi, honey,” Gardner's happy voice answered you. “How you feeling today?”

“Fine,” you lied, your grip tightening around your phone.

“Oh, um, well I'm glad to hear that,” the man answered slowly, clearly a little puzzled by your grumpiness. “Think you'd be up for dinner out tonight? My treat.”

“I don't know, Gardner, I didn't sleep the greatest last night and my appetite hasn't been the greatest today,” you answered honestly. You had softened a little, as this was still the man you loved, and thought that maybe you were reacting a little strongly based only on your paranoid suspicions.

“Okay, we'll stay in, then,” he said, clearly not to be deterred from his plan to see you. “Come by the boat. It's supposed to be a beautiful night. I just really want to see you.”

You felt the last of your resolve crumble and you caved, agreeing you would come over. He agreed that if you started to feel ill again, he would bully Calvin into driving you home.

That evening you decided to walk the half a mile or so from your apartment to Calvin's house where Gardner still had his boat parked, taking time to reflect on all that had happened recently. You were not sure what to expect upon arrival, but it certainly was not what you saw.

Gardner had taken the cover off his boat, exposing the deck fully. He had gathered every blanket he owned, as well as a few you were certain you had seen in Calvin's house, as well as every cushion and pillow it seemed he could get his hands on, and piled them on the deck like some sort of hybrid nest-pillow fort. There was a bottle of sparkling cider set beside two trays loaded with food, and fairly lights were strung around the rigging, creating a soft glow around the nest. You had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk just staring at everything, which was where Gardner found you when he emerged from below deck with two glasses in his hands.

“(Y/N)!” he waved at you when he spotted you. “Come on up!” You climbed the ladder to the deck and Gardner reached out to help you on board, hands warm and clammy in they way they were whenever he was nervous.

“Do you like it?” he asked you with a small smile.

“I love it,” you answered honestly. “Did you do all of this?”

“Yep! Well, Calvin helped with the food and dragging all the cushions outside, but it was all my idea. I bought the juice and strung the lights and everything,” Gardner's hands started waving around excitedly as he explained, and you took hold of one again to calm him.

“You did this just for me,” it was more of a statement than a question.

“Well, you seemed so stressed lately I thought it might be nice for you to have a quiet, cozy way to unwind,” he explained, steering you toward a particularly plush looking pile of cushions. You arranged yourself on it in a way that hopefully looked less awkward than it felt, and Gardner promptly wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, enveloping you in warmth and his familiar scent.

You hugged the blanket around yourself, feeling infinitely better, and wondering how you could ever have doubted this wonderful man. He reached out to you with a glass of juice, and soon you both were digging into the food he had prepared. Sandwiches, fruits, and even chocolate and caramel sauces for dipping. It was delicious, and you realized just how hungry you were after barely eating for the past 24 hours. You talked and laughed over your dinner, the conversation slowly dwindling into companionable silence. You were licking a bit of stray chocolate sauce off your finger when Gardner caught your attention again.

“(Y/N)?”

“Gardner?”

“There's...another reason I wanted you to come over tonight. Another reason why I prepared all of this,” he started and turned to face you more directly. “I know I have my faults and my quirks, and sometimes it may seem like I try too hard, yet other times, not hard enough. But I love you more than life itself. What you and me have is so much...different when compared to anything I've ever known. I've not had anybody really be there for me, there because they actually wanted to be and not because they felt obligated or for some ulterior motive. When I look at you, I feel whole, I feel new, I feel invincible. Like I could fly. I could take on the world with you by my side. And that's what I really want. I'm not sure about the rest of the factors in my life, but I know that whatever happens, I want it to happen with you there, too.”

Time seemed to stand still as Gardner shifted so he was on one knee while reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a small blue box. You gasped, eyes comically wide as you stared at the box. It all made sense now. The missing ring, the sneaky internet research, the private phone calls. He had been in touch with a jeweler. He needed to know your ring size. Of course. The clues were all there, your mind had just come to the wrong conclusion.

Tears blurred your vision as Gardner opened the box, revealing the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. A princess cut stone of pure (y/b/s) sat in the middle of a sparkling white gold band, two much smaller white diamonds framing it, giving off the most brilliant shine even in the low light surrounding you. It was truly gorgeous, more so than any piece of jewelry or clothing or anything you had ever owned. Taking a deep breath to regain your composure, you looked back up into his hopeful face, flashing a watery smile.

“Ask me,” you said, wanting to hear his sweet voice speak those words. “Ask me, Gardner.”

“(Y/N), will you marry me?” he asked, brilliant hazel eyes flicking back and forth between yours.

“Yes,” you said, nodding vigorously. “Yes, yes, of course I will!”

You threw your arms around him, tackling him back into the pile of blankets and cushions behind him, peppering his entire face with kisses, leaving no exposed skin untouched. He laughed as you even kissed his ears, only stopping when Calvin's voice rang out from the house.

“Well?! What did she say?!”

“Oh, the ring!” you said, suddenly remembering it. “Where's the ring?”

Gardner picked the box up from where he had dropped it on a pillow and quickly slipped it onto your left hand. You stood and flashed your hand toward the house, making sure it caught the glow of one of the lights strung around you.

“What the heck do you think I said, Calvin?!” you shot back at him.

“Smart girl!” he called back to you. “You two have fun, now, and don't rock the boat! Or maybe do!”

You laughed as Calvin closed the window he was leaning out of. His words made you realize something and you quickly turned to Gardner, leveling him with your best serious face.

“I have one condition,” you stated firmly. The smile on Gardner's face slipped a little. “You can keep the boat, but I am NOT living in it!”

He laughed in relief, reaching out to pull you down to him again.

“Deal.”

#gardner langway #gardner langway x reader #gardner x reader #dear sidewalk #dear sidewalk fic #songfic #ldwa1kextravaganza

79 notes · View notes

ai-suru-hito-yo · 6 years ago

Text

Waiting For Someone To Release Me (Pt 5)

Summary: Your life has become rather busy, leaving you no free time to spend with your friends, but John comes up with a solution for this. However, the night may just end in disaster.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, tears, tiny blond tempers, broken glass, a steamy moment, and some fluffy, vomit-inducing charm.

A/N: I just want to make it abundantly clear that Brian has no interest in reader other than a friendly one. He is, of course, excited to have reader take interest in his interests, and they get along well, but (as you may have caught in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it line in the last chapter) Brian has met Chrissie. Also, John, Roger, and reader have no clue about anything. Freddie is, so far, the only one suspicious about there being a bit of a love triangle forming here. And, just for curiosity’s sake, I imagine reader as right smack between John and Roger’s ages. So, John is 20, reader is 21, Roger is 22.

It had officially been two weeks since “The Party” and your bond with your new friends had only grown stronger—more so with one of them in particular. John had driven you home in a peaceful, companionable silence, the both of you stealing glances at each other and giggling like children whenever you made eye contact. Like a perfect gentleman, he walked you to your door and no further, and left you with an achingly chaste kiss and a promise to call you over the weekend.

You had walked into your flat the next afternoon after a quick run to the shops to your phone ringing, and quickly dumped your shopping onto the counter as you raced to the phone.

“Hello?” you answered breathlessly.

“Uh...(Y/N)?” a familiar voice answered.

“Hi John. Yeah it's me. Just got in.”

“Oh! I'm sorry, I can call back later if you like,” he answered, sounding a little unsure.

“No!” you nearly yelled down the line as you struggled to remove your coat. “I mean, there's no need. Now is perfect. I'm so glad to hear from you, John.”

You had spent the next two hours talking about nothing and everything. And nearly three hours the next afternoon. And an hour every evening since then. The more the two of you spoke, the more convinced you were that John was just about the most interesting man you had ever met. You had gathered just how incredibly intelligent, kind, funny, and hard-working the man was, and the more you knew about him, the more you wanted to know. You simply could not get enough.

Roger had been a frequent presence throughout your workdays, coming to the cafe regularly on his breaks. You always made a point to chat with him for a few minutes, asking his opinion on how things were going with the band (“brilliant!”) and his schooling (“absolute rubbish, I don't know why the bloody hell I try anymore!”) as well as keeping him up to date on your own studies.

Unfortunately, because the band was working so hard, you and John had not had a moment to yourselves since your rendezvous at the after party and the trip home afterward. You had seen him in person once since then, when Freddie dragged you and the boys out shopping for new stage wear. You had tried to worm your way out of it, hearing the slightly manic way Freddie spoke about his plans and knowing it was a bit of a tense topic within the band. However, Freddie insisted you must have some dress sense after he had last seen you in “such a fabulous outfit, darling, you must have at least an ounce of understanding of fashion and I NEED all the help I can get when it comes to these heathens!” Once you had arrived and met up with them outside of Grannie's, you were glad you had come along upon seeing the look on John's face. He clearly wished he was anywhere else on earth in that moment.

You stood next to him and gave his hand a quick, reassuring squeeze, which he returned gratefully. He seemed much happier to see you there.

“Chin up, buttercup. It'll all be over soon.”

“You've never been shopping with Freddie. You'll eat those words,” he said with a dramatic eye roll before entering the shop behind Brian.

You certainly ate every last bitter word.

“I'll never be doing that again,” you said sternly, pressing the phone to your ear and your free hand over your eyes, trying to find some relief for the headache that had settled in about halfway through the previous evening, sometime between the fifth jacket for Brian and the third belt for Freddie, and stuck with you all day. It had left you feeling unrested and irritable, making your 4 hour shift at the cafe feel more like 12. Thankfully Roger had not come in that day. You were sure you could not have handled the sunny mood he seemed to bring into the shop with him every time you saw him there. You were just about to mention this to John when you heard a voice in the background cut in to the conversation.

“Listen, sweetheart, Freddie's finally showed up and we need to rehearse. Brian's brought in a totally new song and it's going to take some work, so I have to go,” he said softly.

“Do you really have to? I've hardly had a chance to talk to you in three days and barely saw you last night,” you said, not bothering to mask the pout you were sure was evident in your voice.

“I'm sorry, (Y/N), really I am,” he said, then paused. “Tell you what. Tonight probably won't be very pretty, but how about you come along tomorrow night? You can sit in and see a little bit of how we work, and I might actually get to see you for more than 10 seconds at a time. Plus I've got a surprise you might be interested to know about.”

“A surprise? John what have you got up your sleeve?” you ask him, eyes narrowed though he could not see you at the moment.

“Come tomorrow and you'll find out,” he said with a hint of a smile in his voice. “I can pick you up at quarter to eight, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright. But this better be good, mister!” you said as if he was putting a huge imposition on you though you were actually very excited at the prospect of seeing all your friends again and getting to hear them play some more music.

“Great! I'll see you then, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Goodnight, sleep tight.”

“Sweet dreams,” you answered, your now regular goodbye falling naturally from your lips with a small sigh.

You rang off and set about putting your things away and making tea, preparing to settle in for the evening, feeling excited and optimistic for the following day.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were once again stood in front of your full wardrobe, staring into it's depths as if somehow your clothes would rearrange themselves and reveal something new that had mysteriously materialized in the last hour you had been rifling through it. A knock sounded on your bedroom door and Sarah's fiery head poked in, looking you up and down in surprise.

“(Y/N), why aren't you dressed?! Your ride is here!”

“He what?!” you practically shouted, jumping to your dresser to start rifling through for a clean pair of tights. “He's early! He said he'd be here at quarter to eight!”

“Uhm...,” Sarah pointed to the alarm clock on your bed, which was flashing 7:47. “I'd say he's pretty punctual.”

“Fuck! Sarah what am I going to wear?!” you started flinging sweaters and blouses out of your wardrobe, not really looking at any of them, as Sarah tried not to laugh at you. She quietly stepped forward and pulled out a gold corduroy skirt and striped sweater from the mayhem now strewn across your bed, and pointed silently at the teal blue tights hanging halfway out of one of your dresser drawers. You quickly grabbed the items, smacking a kiss on Sarah's cheek, and pulled them on in record time, managing to fall over only once.

“What would you do without me, huh?” Sarah teased you.

“I have no idea. I owe you one, babe!” you grabbed your purse and pulled on your boots, making your way quickly to the living room to find John standing by the door, wrapped up in a beautiful red coat and grey scarf.

“I'll remember that!” you heard Sarah call from down the hall, but you ignored her, as you only had eyes (and ears) for John at the moment.

“Hi,” you breathed, happy yet nervous to see him again. It was also the first time he had set foot in your flat and you were a little anxious as you had not been prepared for this.

“Hello,” he said softly with a sweet smile. He reached out to take your hand and brushed a soft kiss against your knuckles. His lips were a little chapped and rough against your skin, but you felt warmth bloom from where his skin made contact with your own and radiate across your entire body. You were sure you must be blushing and cursed your decision to only wear the barest amount of make-up tonight, as you probably looked like a walking tomato now. John, however, smiled wider, revealing the cute little gap between his front teeth, his eyes crinkling adorable around the corners, and brushed a thumb across your cheek.

You ducked your head down with a shy smile, addressing your toes when you next spoke. “Shall we head out? We don't want to keep the others waiting.”

John laughed. “Oh I guarantee we could wait another ten minutes and still be the first ones there. Punctuality is not in any of their vocabularies. However, you're probably right. It's started to snow, so we might need to take it slow.”

You reached for your coat hanging near the door, and your scarf beneath it. John took your coat while you knotted the warm wool around your neck, then held your coat out and helped slip it up around your shoulders. You called out to tell Sarah that you were leaving and were not sure when you'd be back. She called out a “have fun and be safe” which caused you to groan internally. Sarah was lucky she was such a good friend, or you might have to kick her to the curb.

John reached for your hand as soon as you had made sure you had your keys and that the door to your flat was firmly shut. He gently swayed your hands between you as you made your way to his car, which he opened for you to get in first. It was still warm from his drive over, and you melted into the comfort immediately. John switched on the radio, and both your faces lit up as the iconic riff of Cream's “Sunshine Of Your Love” sounded through the car's speakers.

“You like Cream?” John asked, eyes twinkling in the low light.

“Yeah of course!” you answered, reaching out to turn the volume up a little. “This bass line is fantastic. Such a feel-good kind of song.”

You both sang along as the funky riff filled the interior of the car, forgetting your earlier shyness and giving in to the fun, arriving at the studio space where Queen was rehearsing just as the song was fading out. John quickly put on the parking brake and turned the engine off before he hopped out and over to the passenger door to help you out. You were honestly amazed by how much of a gentleman he was. You had never been treated in such a manner by anyone before, and just by this simple show of kindness you felt yourself falling for him even more. You had spent so long putting up with Charlie's bullshit, and almost as much time alone since you had broken up with him. It felt like a thousand and one nights, waiting in your loneliness and isolation, and suddenly here was someone treating you like a treasure. You felt warm and happy and a little bit overwhelmed by it, but honestly would not give it up for anything. You were falling hard and fast for this young man you had only known for about a month now, but it felt right.

Lost in your thoughts, you had failed to notice that John was now leading you up a rather steep flight of carpeted stairs, complete with creaks and water stains, to a rather stale-smelling room. It was spacious and well lit, but obviously rarely used up until recently. One corner was piled with a few tables and chairs in various states of disrepair, all obviously pushed out of the way of the makeshift drum riser where a rather large and elaborate kit was set up. A few amps were strewn about the place, as well as what looked like a large speaker case and a few distortion pedals set off to one side. John set his own instrument case down on the opposite side of the drum kit before turning back to where you stood in the middle of the room.

“Can I take your coat for you?” he asked, reaching out nervously before dropping his hands awkwardly to his sides again. You smiled at his adorable awkwardness and quickly shrugged off your coat, handing it and your scarf to him with a word of thanks. He carefully carried them over to one of the tables and laid them down gently. You turned around to take in more of the room, noticing the worn but comfy looking couch against the wall separating the stairway from the room, as well as two doors off the room which you supposed were probably a bathroom and a closet of some sort. You crossed to the couch and took a seat, brushing out any perceived wrinkles in your clothes before smiling up at John.

“Do you mind if I...?” he asked, pointing behind him toward his bass and amp.

“Not at all! You're here to practice, not entertain me. Pretend I'm not even here,” you answered. You were rather excited to be here and potentially hear some new music, but did not want to be an imposition on the band or any of its members.

“Well, I don't think I'll be able to do that,” John flashed you a smile as he pulled his bass out, plugged it in, and started fiddling with volume knobs. You watched in fascination as he tweaked the tuning and tested the tone, setting everything to his exact specifications, before he worked through some riffs to warm up.

Halfway through the third warm up, you heard footsteps on the stairs behind you and turned just in time to see a mop of dark curls peek around the dividing wall at you.

Brian flashed you a quick smile before taking off his coat and moving toward the speaker you had noticed earlier. He sat down on it, reaching behind it to fiddle with something you could not see on the backside, before producing a cord which he plugged into his Red Special. You soon realized it must be an amp, but it was the strangest amp you had ever seen. It looked like a plain speaker, not unlike one your dad had on his own stereo system, and nothing like the other amps and monitors around the room. Brian saw you looking puzzled at it and waved you over. You stood and joined him.

“Impressive, huh?” he said, patting the top of the amp. “Wait until you hear it. It's something special. I bet I spent two hours experimenting with it's capabilities when Deacy brought it in.”

“So it is an amp, then.”

“Mhm,” Brian answered, going about tuning his guitar.

“It looks nothing like any of the others. Is it some kind of special set up for your custom guitar?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that!” Brian answered with a slight laugh that shook his shoulders. “John made it.”

Your head whipped up to look at Brian, then you spun to look at John. He noticed the sudden movement and stopped in the middle of what he was playing.

“What?” he asked, eyes wide under your scrutiny.

“You made this?” you asked, pointing behind you at the amp.

“Uh...yes?” he answered.

“As in, built the whole thing yourself,” you were amazed, these gents surprised you more and more every day. Not only were they good looking and quite talented, but it seemed they were all geniuses, too.

“Well, sort of,” he answered, and he pulled the strap of his bass over his head, setting it down on a stand to join you next to Brian. “I found the parts to an old transistor in a skip a few months back. Took an old blown speaker, rewired a few things, a little soldering and a 9v battery later and I had a practice amp. Brought it along thinking I could use it here as it doesn't have the best sound quality, but then somebody stole it away and claimed it as his own.”

Brian just stuck his tongue out and went back to his tuning. You stood there in awe, finding yourself somehow even more excited to be invited along that night.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally twenty minutes later the last two members of the band showed up, Roger complaining that he tried to leave on time, but Freddie felt the need to change his shirt no less than four times, causing a fifteen minute delay and for all the parking near by to be filled up by the time they got there, further delaying them as they had to walk two blocks from where they parked. It wasn't until after Roger got this full rant out of the way, tossed his coat aside randomly, and turned to sit behind his kit that he seemed to realize there was an extra person in the room. His face suddenly lit up, his whole attitude changing like someone had flipped a switch.

“(Y/N)? Didn't know you'd be here!” he said, shaking out his long, dark blond hair.

“John invited me along,” you answered. “We've not gotten to see each other for more than 30 seconds since your last show, so I thought I'd take him up on that offer and tag along.”

“Oh,” Roger turned to John with a strange look on his face, but it quickly melted away into a pleasant smile. “Well, (Y/N), get ready to rock'n'roll!”

With that, he planted himself behind his kit and went to town, smashing and banging loud enough to wake the dead. You glanced toward Freddie, who simply rolled his eyes and pulled a notebook from the bag he'd brought with him.

An hour passed by in the blink of an eye, and you were having the time of your life. They played through a few of the songs you recognized, and soon were on to working Brian's new song. After twenty minutes spent arguing on the same chord progression (mostly by Roger and Brian) and eye-rolling (Freddie) the boys finally decided they needed a break to cool down and recharge. Roger and Freddie headed outside for a smoke while Brian headed downstairs for a drink (it was then you realized the rehearsal space was over a small pub) leaving you along with a quiet but clearly annoyed John. You were unsure how to approach him and so just stayed quietly seated, watching him work through another song.

You had leaned back against the couch and closed your eyes for a moment when you suddenly heard a huff and a loud clanging. John had angrily strummed against his bass before putting it down rather forcefully and striding over to one of the doors. He quickly disappeared inside, obviously angry and needing a moment to himself. You decided to give him his space, not wishing to push him too far. A few minutes turned into five, and when you heard no noise and did not see John reemerge from the room, you decided to go ahead and try talking to him.

You stood and slowly crossed to the door, knocking gently and calling to him softly as if speaking to a spooked animal.

“John? Is everything alright?” You reeled back as the door suddenly opened, and you were quickly pulled inside.

“Wha-?” you were silenced as a pair of lips descended upon your own, warm and soft but insistent. You melted against the body in front of you, not realizing just how much you craved another kiss from this man until it was given to you.

Just as quickly as the lips came they were gone as John pulled away, panting slightly, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I'm sorry, (Y/N),” he whispered, warm breath fanning across your jaw. “I didn't mean to be so rough. I didn't think they'd fight like this with a guest around. I'm so sorry you had to witness that. I’m just...sorry.”

You carefully reached up toward John's face, cupping his jaw and lifting his eyes up to meet yours which were finally adjusting to the dim light.

“Hey, hey, no, don't be sorry,” you said softly, smiling at him. “You've nothing to be sorry for. Sure it was a little awkward, but bands fight. You guys are all so immensely talented and clearly perfectionists when it comes to your music. Of course you're gonna bicker and pick and disagree. You all expect the best each of you has to offer out of each other. There's nothing wrong with that. It's also clear you all care a lot about each other. I'm not worried about it and you shouldn't be, either.”

Green eyes looked into your own (y/e/c) ones for a moment before John was surging forward again, lips capturing your own in a breathtaking kiss. You answered in kind, your hands once again brushing through thick sideburns and tangling in soft brown locks as you were pressed gently up against the wall behind you. Large hands came to rest on the slight curve of your hips, warm and heavy, a very much welcome presence.

You felt a tongue gently sweep against your lower lip and you parted your own slightly, letting John in. You subconsciously pulled a little tighter on the hair in your fist, which caused John to moan softly. You pulled away, afraid you had hurt him, only for him to chase your mouth and gently pull your lower lip between his teeth. You gasped, pushing your hips against his, tummy brushing against an obvious bulge beginning to form. John whined brokenly as you felt his hands slide around your hips and down to your bum, pulling you flush against him. You no longer knew where you ended and he began, slowly becoming entangled into one being, so lost in each other you had failed to notice the door knob rattle until the door flew open and the dim room was flooded with light.

John took a step back from you as you untangled your hands from his hair, resting them instead against his chest. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you could make out Freddie's surprised face, eyes wide and apologetic.

“I’m so sorry! I just came looking for the-” he tried to explain himself, but was cut short.

“What the fuck?!” a shriek came from the room beyond and you could see Roger standing just a few feet behind Freddie, having just shrugged his coat back off and turned toward the room again. Brian was standing wide eyed but silent in the corner, clutching his guitar and looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. John turned to stand in front of you, blocking you slightly, but you fought your way forward, confused.

“Roger, what's wr-” you were cut off as Roger picked up Brian's beer bottle and threw it, hard, against the wall.

“What the fuck, Rog?” Freddie yelled, shielding his face from the spray of ale and glass. Roger started toward you, but Freddie reached out with a surprising amount of strength and held him back.

“YOU! What the hell, Deacon? I thought you were my friend! What the fuck are you doing?” Roger screamed, fury in his eyes. All you could do was let out a little squeak, slightly terrified at the wild animal before you.

“What the hell is your problem, Roger? I am your friend!” John shouted back, clearly confused.

“You are my problem!” Roger tried once again to lunge forward, but Freddie pushed him back and shouted at him to calm down and be civilised. Roger stood still and tense, breathing heavily like an enraged bull readying to charge.

Brian was still quiet and frozen like a deer in headlights at the other side of the room. Freddie was looking between the two angry men with a furrowed brow, an arm out in front of Roger to hold him back. John continued to look confused and a little hurt, and you had begun to silently cry, also confused and hurt, as well as overwhelmed by the roller-coaster of emotion you were on.

You locked eyes with Roger for a brief moment, and his face immediately crumpled. He no longer looked angry, just defeated.

“You know what? Fuck this,” he said quietly, then a little louder, “Fuck this! This practice is over.”

The four others in the room could only watch as the blond stormed over to where his still snow-dusted coat was draped over a chair, grabbing it angrily before banging his way down the stairs and slamming the door.

John turned to check that you were okay, cupping your face and swiping at your tears before pulling you in and holding you close as sobs wracked your body. You had no clue what had just happened, but the feral creature you had just witnessed was nothing like your friend. He looked and sounded like the man you had come to enjoy spending so much time talking with at work, the man who you had come to regard as one of your best friends, but his actions had been terrifying. You felt that you had triggered this meltdown, but you were completely unsure why.

As your tears subsided, you could hear John speaking angrily with Freddie between attempts to soothe you. He himself sounded rather shaky, and Freddie sounded shocked and breathless. You finally pulled away from John to reach out to Freddie and pull him and John to the couch with you. John wrapped an arm around you as Freddie smoothed your hair away from your face.

“Freddie, w-what just happened?” you pleaded with him.

“I’m...not sure, darling,” he answered slowly, exchanging a glance with John over your head. “But there better be a damn good explanation for this.”

“Bri's gone after him,” John chimed in, voice still shaky with anger and hurt. “Hopefully he'll catch up with him and keep him from doing anything stupid.”

All you could do was nod in agreement, leaning closer into John's side as Freddie held onto your hand, the three of you left to wait for any word from Brian.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@itsametaphorbriansblog @queendeakyy @reavenedges-lies

#Waiting for someone to release me #wfstrm #john deacon x reader #john deacon x you #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you

22 notes · View notes