#cupid:TJ

[cupidkenji]

Silent Earth

Now playing: Silent Earth - Josephine Illingworth they saw the silent earth, and they felt it breathe Pairing: Tyler Joseph x gn!reader CW: none really, fluff, missing him on tour Summary: Mornings with Ty when he's back from tour :( Disclaimer: Reader is always thought to be fat in my stories cause chubby readers aren't loved enough. Reader is not physically described here at all but they're envisioned when I'm writing to be bigger. WC: 1.8k bro TOP has had me in a chokehold since the start of October and I'm just now remembering I can write. Shoutout 11 year old me for being a fan I hope you're proud.

The air in the rising hours felt crisp, and nearly frosty. You’d left the windows open the night before in hopes of welcoming the chill, knowing that you and him both ran hot, and slept better when it was cold inside. October was rolling to a close, and you didn’t know how many nights remained before the snow came and forced your windows shut. He had told you once that he liked the nights so frigid because you relied on him for warmth, finally cool enough beneath the duvet to require his body heat to remain comfortable. You’d practically fuse to him this time of year, overlapping any bear skin that you could, like you were trying to siphon the warmth right from it. He never minded, he looked forward to it. He seemed to reciprocate mindlessly, giggling at the noises of surprise you elicited when he’d roll you onto him before going to sleep or at the sudden draping of his arms over your shoulders whenever you were distracted. 

You’d settled into this pocket of domesticity - admittedly - faster than you should have, relying on that routine of sweeping winds and the spirit of Autumn to push you and him closer than you were in the Summertime. Even as he and Josh began their work on Clancy, you hadn’t remembered just how deep the loneliness perforated you when he was touring. Digitally, you were as in the know as possible, with videos of different venues being sent and endless declarations of his ache to be home - to be with you. It was hardly sustainable, both of you feeling the pull back to your shared space no matter where in the world he performed. It was what it was. Both of you knowing intently where your shared roots were planted, doing the best you could to keep them watered from afar. You didn’t sleep as well, he hardly slept at all. Times like these found both of you on call until the early morning, talking about nothing just for the sake of hearing the other. Feeling each other the best you could, metaphorically stretching your arms out as far as possible. The only thing that kept you reaching to close that gap was sheer desperation, pleading for just a moment of interaction. 

Both him and Josh had been devastated at the streak of years that went by with no shows. You were sad for them, but the two of you settled into yourselves during that time. Happy and homely in the life you shared, and you couldn’t find a way to be truly saddened at the time you got to spend with him. They’d gone back on tour not too long ago, tossing their finished album into the sea of fans who’d been waiting for years with open jaws. You couldn’t be happier to see him re-enter his element, going to the opening nights they played near you and wishing them well with teary eyes when they’d left Ohio for the next year. Like always, you’d allowed yourself time to wallow. A couple days to process the temporary loss. Your fingers seemed to itch with the desire to pry open your stomach and stuff it full of something fluffy, something to satiate that swirling puddle of dread that burrowed into you when he was gone for so long. It was earnest and hardy, it was a sense of incompleteness. In a way you were grateful for it because of how vibrant it made the reunions. Whenever he came back, it was like your lungs opened up to finally let air back into your body. He touched you, and seemed to simply sap that feeling from your bones.

You could still feel the phantom sensation of that misery fleeing you as you laid next to him. He and Josh were on an off week, back at home for a bit before going back up North to do the next leg of shows. You’d seen him for the first time in months last night, been able to mold yourself to him again, and slept the best you had your whole life. Now, you were awake before him, propped up slightly on the headboard and just looking. Whenever he caught you staring at him, he’d jokingly chastise that you’d turn him to stone if you looked any harder, but you could never help yourself. The tours were always taxing, you’d heard it time again on your calls, but it was different seeing the way he wore it when he came home. His voice was always a tad raspier, shoulders a tad more slumped, and the circles under his eyes begging for sleep that would actually revive him. Not the shaking tour bus beds or the cheap hotels, but the bed that was shared between the two of you. He was the most ethereal sight you’d ever seen. The sun was christening the floorboards, creeping over his bare chest and making his resting face almost glow in the gold of the light. It was nearly angelic, watching the illuminated room rouse him from the well deserved sleep. You were almost sad to watch him be pulled from it, but you missed him like hell, and the thought of losing time to slumber wasn’t one you liked. 

You meant to greet him good morning as he woke up, felt it bubble up in your throat, even. You’d heard those slight groans of returning consciousness, though, and watched him stretch and fully open his eyes, and simply couldn’t force it out. The warmth that pooled in your stomach at feeling so fully at home after being deprived of it reached up and yanked the words back down before you could say them. You were so captivated by his very existence, that you only smiled slightly, a small upturn of your lips to express the elation pumping through you. He could sense it as he awoke, either the absence of you in his arms or the presence of your eyes on him, and he turned his head toward you. Still lying on the pillow, he rolled over to face you.

He saw your awestruck face, with eyes that were glistening a little with pure adoration and fondness, and he chuckled at the sight. “Good morning.” It was light, and a bit rough both from sleep and residual exertion from tour. It settled silently into the natural ambiance of your still bedroom. 

You smiled a bit wider at the sound, laughing breathlessly at the look of amusement on his face. “Sorry. I know I���m staring.” You nudged him with your leg at the reference, his fingers coming up to trace gentle shapes on it as he smiled at your words. 

“Mm, you are.” It was a bit snarky, and he kept his hand moving on your leg. “But it’s ok. I actually missed it while I was gone.”

You feigned shock at his words. “Really? I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Not worried I’m going to turn you to stone anymore?”

He laughed, a slight giggle that sounded so at ease you nearly cried from how much you felt the absence of it when he was away. “I don’t think I’d mind it.” You raised your eyebrows in question. “Yeah, I mean - if you turn me to stone, I’d just have to stay here forever, and I already want to do that. No problems here.” 

Your face wrinkled in a mix of cringing and laughing at such a cheesy remark so early in the morning. “Wow, that was so smooth.” You remarked, sarcastic and attempting to be deadpan before breaking and chuckling through your response, the man beside you already laughing. 

You put your palm on top of the fingers tracing your thigh, opting to hold his hand and caress the back of it with your thumb. “How’d you sleep?”

You saw his other hand travel up to his head, familiarly fidgeting with the strands of his grown out buzz cut. The angle seemed a bit awkward with his head still resting on his pillow, but it was a subconscious habit, and you doubt he even noticed it. “Indescribably good.” He emphasized, dramatic in tone but still holding a sense of sincerity. “I actually slept. I’ve been so used to waking up or not sleeping deep enough. I think I just passed out last night.”

You giggled at that. “You did. I looked over and you were out.”

“Hey, you can’t blame me for that.” He looked down to where you were holding his hand. “I haven’t been home in forever. It’s like the sleep deprivation caught up with me when I saw you were here and ok.”

Your brows furrowed at that. “I get that. But we talk every night, Ty. You know when I’m home.”

“No - I know.” He paused for a moment. “It’s like, consciously I know you’re fine, but when I’m so far away I can’t feel it like I usually can. I worry about it, you know subconsciously. That you’re not ok somehow and I don’t know because I’m not here.” You go to voice your rebuttal, but he continues his explanation. “When I’m home, everything just…falls into place. I know you’re safe, so I don’t have to worry about anything.”

You exhale, heavy and sympathetic. The same anxiety keeps you from sleeping deeply, haunted by thoughts of his bus crashing or someone wanting to hurt him. You don’t know what to say. You decide, instead, to move back down from the headboard and lay against him. Circling his torso with your arms and slotting yourself in his open arms. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll be waiting for you to get home, yeah? Promise.”

He took his now free hand and held your shoulder with it, pressing you tighter against him. Squeezing lightly in acknowledgment of your words. “Can’t promise that, honey.”

You sucked in a breath, lining your words with more sarcasm. “Too bad.” You brought your hand up to his chest, palm flat against it as you dug your chin into the back of it to look him in the eyes. “I’ll always be here, you know? I love you.” No matter how many years you shared with him, the words always felt slightly foreign leaving your mouth. Nerves still lined your stomach at the thought of willingly giving him so much of yourself. You always pushed through, though. The feelings you held were so blinding, and so overwhelming that they practically spilled from your lips anyways. No matter the words you said, they were always flowing steadily over the rim with the love you had for him. 

The light in the room reflected off his pupils, the depths of brown in his irises shining with the comfort of being home, the innate correctness of the two of you together. He didn’t know how he’d ever lived without it. “I love you more.”