#they were actually perfectly timed with the plane landing BOTH flights
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shea-like-the-butter · 2 years ago
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Thursday, March 16th 2023
Two paper airplanes flying ✨
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sunshinebarbarian · 5 months ago
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Chapter 5 - First Impressions
All Chapters <3
She was being watched. She looked around, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw the strange woman, wearing silver armor, crouching, ready to attack.
In a split second, the woman somersaulted off the platform she was in, and landed perfectly in front of Sol. She would have clapped at the incredible display of acrobatics, but the woman pointed her sword at her.
“Abomination. This is your end.” the woman prepared to strike, when Sol’s head throbbed, and her skin tingled. Visions rushed past her eyes: a dragon’s wing, a silver sword – and Sol’s face, seen through the woman’s eyes.
The woman seemed to go through the same feeling. “My head. What is this?” she groaned. “Tsk’va. You are no thrall - Vlaakith blesses me this day! Together we might survive!” - as she said this, she put her sword away.
Sol raised an eyebrow. - “What made you think I was a thrall?”
“We carry mind flayer parasites. Unless we escape – unless we are cleansed – our bodies and minds will be tainted and twisted” - a hint of desperation in her voice – “Within days, we will be ghaik. Mind flayers.”
Sol did not like what she heard. However, this woman seemed to know a lot about mind flayers – sticking with her would probably be a good idea. “Who are you?” – Sol asked.
“Who am I? Your only chance of survival.”
“What do you suggest?”
“First, we exterminate the imps” - she gestured to the side. A group of red imps was feasting on corpses sprawled all over the room. – “Then we find the helm and take control of the ship.”
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The woman advanced confidently into the room. Sol observed her curiously. The realisation finally hit her. She was a githyanki! Her silver armor and small nose were also mentioned in her sister’s book about mind flayers. The githyanki used to be slaves to the mind flayers, and now spent their time hunting them, riding their red dragons across the planes giving chase to their enemies. Sol was awestruck at the fact she was actually meeting one. She had to tell her sister about it. About all of this, really. If she survived.
“Htak'a!” a battle cry echoed from the woman as she charged.
The imps finally looked up from their meals. Their eyes tore into the two women, full of malice and greed, as if they wanted to make them part of the menu as well. They had no time to do anything other than screech and take flight – before they knew it, the gith had already cut one down. Sol followed after her, greataxe in hand, and cut the head off the second imp. The remaining imp made an attack on the woman, but was unable to inflict more than a scratch before she took it down.
“You prove surprisingly adequate in battle” – the woman eyed Sol as she put her sword away – “Now, to the helm”.
Sol took a crossbow from one of the imps, and quickly checked the pockets of their lunch, before moving to the far end of the room, where a fleshy lattice looked strong enough to be used to climb upward. Containing her disgust at having to touch that, she started her climb, waiting for the gith at the top.
“What’s your name?” – Sol asked when the woman stood up next to her.
“Lae’zel. Now keep moving”
“I’m Sol”
“Chk” – the woman grew impatient. She moved past Sol and kept climbing.
Sol followed.
They arrived at an circular room, with a strange large pillar at the center, surrounded by 4 chairs and a command console. Sol looked around the room, and saw two people laying on the chairs. They wore identical clothes. Both seemed unconscious when Sol approached – certainly not dead, but totally unresponsive. Lae’zel stood by what seemed to be a control panel, but what it controlled Sol had no idea.
“Ghaik machinery. I can make no sense of it”. - Lae'zel spat out.
Sol studied the console for a second.
*THUMP THUMP THUMP* the sound startled Sol. It seemed to be coming out of one of the pods. Sol took another look at the people on the chairs. They weren’t mind flayers, but something about them was off. Sol couldn’t place it, but she didn’t want to turn their backs on them. She thought maybe the console was doing something to them, and figured freeing them was the best course of action. To see what they had to say, maybe. She decided to press the button in the middle of the console, hoping for the best.
The best did not happen. Instead, the two men stood up, suddenly alert, and prepared to attack.
“Ookay. Oops?” – Sol looked over at Lae’zel apologetically. Lae’zel just glared at her.
They silently agreed who’d take on whom. With a swift motion, Lae’zel killed the man closest to them. Sol decided to test out her new crossbow on the one further away. She missed the first shot. The man ran over to Lae’zel. Sol flinched as Lae’zel cut off his arm. It dropped to the ground, but the man did not. This time Sol did not miss her shot.
*THUMP THUMP THUMP* again, from the same pod as before. Sol approached cautiously. A woman was trapped inside, but she seemed very much alert, and upset at the situation. Understandable really.
“YOU! Get me out of this damn thing!” -  the woman kept hitting the glass in front of her pod, even though it clearly was not making so much as a crack appear.
“We have no time for stragglers” – Lae’zel pointed out.
Sol gripped the pod’s lid, and pulled with all her strength. It moved slightly, but not enough. Sol staggered backwards.
“This ship is crashing. Do you intend to die for a stranger?” – Lae’zel seemed to be running out of patience. Not that she had any in the first place.
Sol ignored Lae'zel. She refused to give up. She gripped the lid again. There was no way she was leaving *anyone* at the mercy of the mind flayers. Not when she could help them. Her parents always laughed whenever she brought home another stray animal, but they were just as guilty of the same thing. She always felt like if she could help someone, she should. Who knows, maybe tomorrow it would be her that needed help.
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The lid finally gave out. The pod opened. The woman sighed with relief, but then she fell forward, hitting the ground before Sol could catch her. Sol extended a hand to help her up.
“I thought that damn thing was going to be my coffin. Thank you” before she could finish her sentence, Sol felt again her head throb, and her mind seemed to lurch into the black-haired woman’s thoughts. Sol could tell she was grateful, but she was also wary of her, because of Lae’zel – because she’s a gith.
“You keep dangerous company” – the woman said with a look of disgust on her face.
“Dangerous company is what you need in a fight” – Sol retorted, an eyebrow raised. She didn't want these two fighting right now.
“Fair point. Looks like there’s plenty of fighting ahead” – the woman conceded – “Let me come with you. We can get off this ship, and watch each other’s backs along the way”
“Alright then, let’s get going. I’m Sol.”
“Shadowheart.” – The woman hesitated – “One moment...” – she reached into her pod, and retrieved a small strangely shaped object. She put it away immediately, as if she didn’t want it to be seen.
“Come on. Time to go”
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aestheticvoyage2023 · 2 years ago
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Day 164: Tuesday June 13, 2023 - “Flying The Big Blue Airplane to Grandma and Papa’s House”
“Someday it will be so nice when William and I can just fly up to Michigan if you have to work” - Someday came today.
The car was packed at 3:30am and I went back in for one last thing - William.  He stretched and protested as I put his fresh diaper and clothes on and then said “you want to go fly on the airplane?” to which he replied with now full attention - “to grandma and Papa’s house?”  and when I told him that was the plan, he sprung up, marched to the waiting open front door, and right to the car climbed in his car seat as I locked up and we were off.  12 hours later, we’d pull into their driveway riding in the big white truck - this is our Michigan home.
It was a big day for William; not only because he was traveling now with his very own suitcase, but as a big 2 year old he was no longer a lap child.  Dad was maybe most excited for this because although it would now require 2 open seats to clear our way on two full filghts while playing the standby game, that it would also mean if we clear I am guaranteed that extra space.  The challenge would be keeping him buckled in for take off - he was mildly good with that as long as he was on the window to watch the big show.   Once in the air, he was back in my lap, both of us in our happy place as he drooled away on my shoulder.
The early morning flight took us to Denver where after a couple hours of waiting, we were then cleared through to Grand Rapids.  Boarding to Grand Rapids it finally felt like the jetbridge chops were as smooth and orchestrated for both of us better than they’re ever going to get and now that he’s not a lapchild I told him that he has to walk himself onto the plane.  And of course, the very first time we do that he is greeted specially by the FA who knew his Mama and recognized him right away.  “Well Hello! William!” Neat how that worked out - someone who actually sends us Christmas Cards. Couldn’t have been better timing.   William led us all the way on board and I let him pick out our row, which happened to be right over the wing. I stowed our stuff perfectly, well organized and efficient travelers we’re becoming.  We assumed our positions with a nice man on the aisle, a fellow Michigander.  “You going home?” he asked.   William responded “AYes” and I didn’t mind not correcting him.  In so many ways, I hope he knows its true - this Great Lakes State is in his DNA as much as Arizona.
When we landed in GRR, I thanked the FA for making my day, and gathered our whole operation to make our way to a waiting Grandma in the terminal.  William dropped out of his stroller and ran about 30 yards to her, his wild sleep hair flying behind.   We met Papa’s white truck outside and strapped in the car seat, gave hugs and talked about how wonderful William is on the airplane.  It was a long day of travel but it didn’t phase him a bit.  This was the most ideal Plan A there could be with that little break in the middle and early enough to where he slept good.  We toasted pints to the successful day at Cooperville Brewing and One Eyed Pete’s and reveled in the idea that our first time “flying the big blue plane to Papa and Grandma’s House” was completely smooth and perfect stand by day.  Been needing one of those and I (half) joked that the best part was, not being stuck in an airport listening to William non-stop talk about Grandma and Papa.  We’d made it, and rolled home to start what I hope would become a normal and regular occurrence for our Little Lion.  As he put him to bed, I told him “someday, you’ll be a really big boy, and we can send you along on the airplane all by yourself to see Grandma and Papa” and he looked up with his sweet face and said “big blue airplane?”  
Song: Caamp - 26
Quote: “To get the full value of joy you must have someone to divide it with.” ― Mark Twain
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candycritic · 2 years ago
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Airport and Airplane Food To Oman, Qatar and Back
How do I put this, the food I ate while traveling to and from the Middle East was both very interesting and not at the same time. To be clear, we flew business class. While it seems like we've been doing this a lot lately, it has more to do with the current situation with airlines than it does with us being particularly fancy. First of all we found a really good deal with these business class flights, like really good. Secondly we had one overnight flight and several long waits in airports. This means we would get comfortable sleeping arrangements on the flight and lounge access in the airports. So it almost became worth the small amount extra to get business class... well sort of.
Our first flight was actually not business class, that's because the flight we took was a pretty short haul (prop plane), and they didn't even offer business class. This was also the most "interesting" meal we ate the entire journey. The photo does not give it justice because it just looks like a nice plate of butter chicken. The problem is that it was cold. When I say it was cold I don't mean it was heated up and then it didn't stay warm once it was delivered to me. This butter chicken was delivered to me as if it was a salad. Is this a thing?
Once we landed in Thailand (our first stop) we headed straight to the lounge... no we didn't. We headed straight to McDonalds. We went to McDonalds because the current place we live does not have a McDonalds. We seem to have a gift for living in countries that do not have the Golden Arches. Some might consider that a blessing, but I find that when I live in a place that doesn't have a McDonalds, I crave McDonalds all the time. So the first thing we did when we landed in an airport with a McDonalds is stop and get burgers.
We did eventually get to the lounge as we had a long layover and I picked up these absolutely beautiful desserts. The rose shaped tart was a mango tart and it was amazing. The cup dessert was the most fancy apple crumble I've ever seen in my life. It had blueberries and gold leaf added, which are both equally weird additions to apple crumble for completely different reasons. I'm starting to believe that apple desserts are considered fancy in South East Asia, even the ones we consider in North America to be very simple.
Somehow, after our first layover all we ate on the rest of our flights was breakfast. I think it had something to do with the long flights and how we were crossing over time zones. I'll be honest it was all a bit of a blur. We got onto our second flight of this adventure and prepared to sleep, which I didn't because I can't sleep on planes. I will however say, in good Candy Critic style, all of the breakfasts I selected were pretty much just desserts. It started with what I thought would be a couple of slices of banana bread (my favourite of all breads). I thought it would be a nice little snack to wake up to, instead it was probably the most over the top banana bread I've ever seen in my life.
It also came with a puck of butter. When I say puck, I mean the most perfectly round slab of butter ever created. I believe mathematicians could use this puck to calibrate their instruments.
I have a curiosity when it comes to sweets, so before getting off this flight I saw on the menu that as a snack they offered chocolate. There was no description of what kind of chocolate and how it would be delivered. At some point in the middle of the night the flight attendant saw that I was awake and asked if I wanted anything. Bleary eyed and confused I remembered that I saw the words chocolate on the menu, so I said "chocolate". She brought me back these, and they were pretty good. I mention this because it will come up again in the future. I also should mention that even though I wasn't hungry I ate both of these chocolates and while they tasted good, I don't think it was doing much for my health.
The third and final flight of this leg I decided to order waffles... and they gave me pancakes. I'm not sure where this breakdown happened, but everyone on the flight who ordered this got the same thing. I think it might be a language barrier or a simple mistake on the menu. As always my carbs came with a side of carbs and plenty of syrup and jam. Needless to say I was not feeling great after this.
We finally arrived in Muscat Oman, and had a wonderful time (I'll be posting about that later). After that portion of our trip it was time to head to Doha Qatar. This was a fairly short flight, but there were two things worth mentioning food wise about this leg. First of all I tried something in the lounge at the airport that I never thought about before, pineapple and mint juice. Adding mint to juice is a big thing in Oman, and I drank plenty of iced tea with mint throughout our trip, but pineapple juice? It strangely worked, really well. I would actually recommend giving it a try, but don't be stingy with the mint.
The flight offered a nice fancy meal, but the dessert (that round puck in the upper left hand) was amazing. It was some kind of custard treat that I could have eaten for the rest of my life. We arrived in Doha and also had a wonderful time (and once again I'll have more about that in its own post). 
After our great stop in Qatar we headed home (two flights). We left Doha at 1 am, so we decided to get to the airport around 9 and have a late dinner. Frankly the dinner in the lounge was okay, but kind of complicated. It was most complicated when the wifi didn't work for us at the airport and it turns out that if you want to see the menu of items at the lounge you "have" to scan a QR code. Fortunately they had a buffet with a few less items but it suited us well enough. While the food was fine, they had a few special items for the Chinese New Year including this beautiful and tasty orange dessert. I asked the person manning the dessert table which was the best, he said the chocolate cake was the most popular, but these orange desserts where a special for the New Year. I decided to go special over popular and I was not disappointed.
Our first flight home was another overnight flight that offered some kind of dinner at 1 am and then breakfast... again. I skipped dinner as we had just eaten in the airport, but opted to have breakfast. I thought I should get something sensible until I saw that they had a Nutella donut available. The thing about this donut is the menu said it was a "freshly made donut". I immediately assumed that they had a deep fryer on the plane and would be making them piping hot. I also assumed it wouldn't be gigantic. I was wrong on both accounts. While it looks very fancy, it was pretty average and cold in the middle.
I should also mention, on our flight back home that I ordered the mystery chocolate again, and once again it had no description. I had fond memories of the other chocolate I got on the earlier flight and I thought I would maybe get it again. I also should mention that I wanted some popcorn thinking it would be made fresh for some reason. This time however they gave me a Dairymilk bar instead of their fancy chocolates. I'd like to believe it's because they ran out of their fancy chocolates, but it also could have been how dirty and tired I looked on this last leg of our trip and the flight attendant just thought I wasn't fancy enough. The popcorn was also in bags and not fresh, but I did get both salted and caramel corn.
Our last leg we ate something that I don't really remember and I didn't get a picture. I was way too tired and just looking forward to going into my own bed. All in all the food we got while traveling on this journey was very fancy and tasty. We also got a pair of pyjamas to take home which is both weird but also amazing.
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undeadspeeds · 3 years ago
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LOVERS DO | Spencer Reid X Male!Reader.
SUMMARY: Reader loses his noise cancelling earmuffs and gets ready to have a very messy flight. Spencer cares more than he knows.
Reader is autistic, so is Reid.
A/N: Still can't tell if I like this one but I think it might be a good start! English is not my first language and I'm still figuring it out second person pov. I can't title stuff. I'm also a new blog, feel free to maybe follow dot dot dot.
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For the first time in a while, the case had been an easy one. You were in and out of the state in less than two days just in time for the weekend, which was really exciting for everyone on the team.
On the way to the jet your friends were discussing their own plans for the next two free days and trying to accommodate a hangout between them or at least that's what you could hear from walking behind them.
It's not like you were some sort of outsider in the group, most of the time you would be closer and listen or chiming in when something sounded interesting. However, this time you were a bit distracted.
Back at the hotel you had packed back up your things so fast that you had forgotten noise cancelling earmuffs there, you wanted to say something about it, maybe ask to go back but it didn't seem something actually worthy to do that for. The flight was a couple hours long anyway, you could survive.
"Are you okay?" Spencer slowed down to you while everyone was getting on the plane.
"Yeah," you smiled, "just tired."
Once inside, you and Spencer sat together one the same seat you always did. He took a book out of his bag, the one that always stayed with him, and showed it to you. He always did this when starting a book so you could check it out later.
Normally, your going back home routine consisted of sitting together, sharing Spencer's soft blanket he always had with him for comfort while he read a new book and you read the ones he recommended in the past. You would put your earmuffs to get rid of all the noise just to not get overwhelmed while he talked with everyone else. It was easy and comfortable, you and Spencer understood each other and your quirks perfectly.
This time though, reading was difficult. You loved your coworkers, you would even say they're a family to you, but they were so loud when they weren't tired. It wasn't their fault of course, they were just excited to go back home and have fun.
"You finally took those earmuffs off," Emily commented. "Doesn't it get annoying?"
"What do you mean?"
"Not knowing what's happening," she clarified. "We're always talking and you never listen, you just read your books until we land."
"I find that far more entertaining and comfortable," your eyes traveled to Spencer's hands, laying on top of the book he had left his lap to listen. "Plus, Spencer always let's me know if something cool happens."
"Why do you use them, anyway?" Derek chimed in.
"You know, meltdowns are intense responses autistic people might have to overwhelming situations. It happens when someone becomes completely overwhelmed by their current situation and temporarily loses control of their behaviour. This loss of control may be expressed verbally, physically  or in both ways," Spencer stated. "One of the reasons can be Sensory Overload, which occurs when one or more of the body's senses experiences over-stimulation from the environment. There are many…"
"Yeah," you interrupted. You loved Spencer's ramblings and you were always there to listen but this just wasn't the time for that.
"Then why did you take them off?" Derek asked once again.
Sighing, you prepared yourself for the embarrassment. You had forgotten to have an excuse so the truth had to be the answer.
"Um, yeah, about that," you stalled. "I kind of... forgot them. Back at the hotel."
Emily, worried, was gonna say something but Spencer was faster.
"Oh, don't worry," he grabbed his messenger bag that was left on his feet, looking for something. Finally, he took out a pair of earmuffs. They weren't yours, they were a different color and new but they would work. "Here," he placed them on your lap, ignoring the confusion on your face and giving you a big smile.
"Why do you have this?"
"You always forget things," he explained. "I figured one day you would forget your noise cancelling earmuffs too. So I always have a spare one, just in case."
"Thank you, Spence," putting them on your head. Feeling a little brave after this, getting your face closer to his, you kissed him on his cheek.
Thank god you couldn't hear all the teasing.
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becca-e-barnes · 3 years ago
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Take Care of Everything
This is my first ever fic for a writing challenge omg I’m so excited! Huge congratulations to @balenciagabucky for hitting 3K followers!! That’s such a huge milestone and thank you for organising such a fun challenge! So excited to read the rest of the submissions 💗 @dulceslibrary
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Pairing: Personal Assistant! Bucky Barnes x Lawyer! Reader
Word Count: 3.5k maybe?
Summary: There’s only one thing in your life that your PA doesn’t take care of
Warnings: Smut, praise kink, pet names, protected sex (go me for writing something safe sex for a change), court mention, lil fluff, mile high club
Minors, do not interact.
“Un-fucking-believable.” You couldn’t stop the roaring boil of the blood in your veins, storming out of the court room with your long black gown billowing behind you. Being one of the top barristers in the country brought it’s fair share of high profile cases but this one had got on every last nerve in your body and you were out of patience.
The case itself wasn’t the problem. The issues were straightforward enough and applying law to fact, at the most basic level, your client had done nothing wrong. It should have been essentially cut and dry. The problem was the opposing council and the lack of intervention from the judge.
The prosecution had torn your witness to shreds. You had tried to warn the poor woman beforehand, as you did with every client, but on the stand, she had just crumbled under such an intense and downright ignorant line of questioning.
It shouldn’t have even been allowed in the first place. The judge should have stepped in and clipped the opposing council’s wings but the damage was already done and now you would have to pick the pieces up when court resumed on Monday.
“How did it go?” Your personal assistant must have been leaning outside the courtroom door for who knows how long, his suit somehow as neat and pristine as always, despite the fact it was the end of the day.
“Fucking dreadful, Terry was an asshole to Andrea and she lost it. Should’ve known he’d pull shit like that, he’s always a cunt on Friday evenings.” You practically spat the words out, heels clicking on the floor as you made your way down the marble hall to collect your things and begin to put an end to this miserable week.
Part of you almost wanted to laugh at how Bucky had developed the skill of being able to keep up with your pace without even having to look up from his blackberry. That only came from years of practice.
“Terry loves playing with fire. Fuck him. If anyone can put him in his place on Monday, it’s you.” Bucky still hadn’t taken a second to pull his nose up from his phone, his steps landing in perfect time with yours until you reached the chamber at the end of the hall, throwing the heavy wooden door open in front of you. Bucky filtered in behind you of course, closing the door behind him before slipping his phone neatly into his pocket.
“Thought your doctor warned you about your blood pressure? You gotta calm down.” Bucky’s face showed he was genuinely concerned, his eyebrows knitted together in disdain but there was nothing new there. He had worked for you for years now and truth be told, he was damn good at his job, not to mention the fact he was the closest thing to a friend your busy schedule allowed you to have.
“I’ll calm down when I’m dead. We need to get to the airport if we’re going to make that flight for the convention.” You pulled your wig off, setting it neatly into the little wooden closet before removing your gown, hanging it up alongside the other worn ones from earlier in the week so they could all be dry cleaned and back in the closet for Monday.
“It’s a private jet honey, it can’t leave without you.” Bucky laughed softly, knowing you were worked up and hoping a little joke would ease the tension.
You had to admit, you were so thankful for Bucky. He was devoting the prime of his life to making sure you had everything you needed, your life only felt so seamless because Bucky made it that way. He didn’t just manage your calendar and fetch you coffee like any other PA, he lived and breathed you. He went everywhere with you, crashing in your spare room at least three nights a week because you had both worked yourselves to exhaustion. He never missed anything. He had a solution for every problem, nothing was too big for him to tackle and given the chance, you two could absolutely take over the world one day. You confided in him, and he in you, getting to know every tiny detail of his life in the past few years, right down to that fact that neither of you had seen your family or been on a date in months. Hell, he’d went as far as buying you a packet of batteries one Monday after a particularly long and stressful court hearing.
“Here, got you these.” He had smiled mischievously as he handed them over to you, chuckling a little at your confused expression. “For your vibrator. Looks like it’s gonna be a long week.” You took them gratefully, joking with him that you really would need them, tucking them into your handbag and damn were they appreciated. The following morning he had asked how you had got on and you could only laugh. You didn’t tell him how thoughts of him had come into your head right as you had gotten close. Similarly, you didn’t tell him how painfully intense your orgasm had been when you imagined him on the bed with you, watching you come apart against the plastic toy. You could just picture his hungry gaze, watching how your body gushed as you released, nipples pebbled from arousal and your lips parted, a single whimper of his name escaping you as you rode out your high.
No, that was a little secret you would keep to yourself. He didn’t need to know your dirtiest fantasies. He was an employee. An employee that often arrived at your bedroom door shirtless and smirking, holding a stack of freshly made pancakes on the mornings he stayed over at yours but an employee nonetheless.
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The cab ride to the airport would have been silent if it hadn’t been for the gentle tapping of your thumbs and Bucky’s racing over your respective phone screens. You had at least two dozen emails left to reply to and your eyelids were beginning to get heavy, the body heat radiating from Bucky in the cab’s back seat making you drowsy. You took a second, squeezing your eyes shut to force away the tiredness before going back to typing relentlessly.
The trip to the airport was short, Bucky had competed the preflight checkin so you essentially stepped straight onto the plane, taking a seat by the window, with Bucky taking the one opposite you. Takeoff was smooth as always, your phones picked back up as soon as it was safe to do so. But with the glowing screen came a fresh wave of drowsiness, your eyelids threatening to close of their own accord.
“Shit, Buck did you pack my -“
“Glasses? Left side of your bag, under the tissues.” Bucky finished your sentence for you, not looking up from his phone.
“And my -“
“Eye drops? In your makeup bag.” There it was again. What surprised you most was that Bucky didn’t even need to see you to work out exactly what was wrong.
“Do you really just take care of everything?” You huffed out a little laugh, digging through your bag, finding both your glasses and eye drops exactly where he told you they would be.
“Everything but you.” He chuckled, finally setting his phone down.
“What do you mean ‘everything but me’? All you ever do is take care of me. You organise my shopping and dry cleaning for god’s sake.” The whole notion of Bucky doing anything but taking care of you was just insane because you sure as hell didn’t have time to do any of those things for yourself. That’s what you hired him for after all.
“I didn’t mean like that. I meant like really take care of you. You’re so damn up tight.” You knew by the little chuckle that accompanied his words that he meant it affectionately but it still made you slightly defensive.
“I’m not up tight.” You protested. Normally you would’ve let harmless comments like that slide but the combination of your shitty day and the fact you were so sleepy made it impossible to not seek out conflict. This was the life you were used to after all. A life of treating almost everyone you came across adversarially. It was second nature to you at this point, inside and outside the courtroom.
“Come on, you seem to forget I am your calendar. You think I don’t know you haven’t gotten any in months? You should get laid, that’s all I’m sayin’. Wouldn’t kill you to have an orgasm every once in a while.” The words roll off his tongue like it’s nothing and truth be told, if you were in better form, this would have been a perfectly normal conversation between the two of you. Neither of you were particularly shy when it came to talking about your hookups.
You hated how right he was. You hated that you hadn’t been touched in months and Bucky knew that. You hated that most days, you were too exhausted to bother tending to your own needs. And you hated the warmth spreading through your body at the thought of Bucky finally taking care of you.
“Don’t know Buck, an orgasm might actually kill me with my high blood pressure.” You needed this conversation to turn more light hearted and you needed it fast, before your head became so clouded with need that Bucky picked up on it.
“I mean, I handle everything else for you. Wouldn’t even mind if that became part of my remit.” You almost couldn’t believe how carefree and nonchalant this whole conversation seemed, Bucky hoping you missed how he cock twitched in his trousers. Of course you didn’t. You missed nothing.
“If what became part of your remit?” You quizzed firmly, trying not to give anything away but knowing your eyes had gone big and doe-like, entirely of their own accord. This was a dream come true.
“You. Actually taking care of you. However you need.” His stare was intense, watching you keenly to determine whether he had horrendously overstepped and was about to get fired.
“Why would you even want to?” Your voice carried every single ounce of confusion you were feeling, staring Bucky down with an intensity that mirrored his own in that moment.
“You’re far too smart to act dumb.” He replied softly, knowing it was all or nothing now. If he was getting fired, he might as well be honest. His head tilted downwards, drawing your attention to the bulge growing in his suit trousers. Years worth of need and longing bubbling over all at once.
“If you want this, tell me. If not, that’s fine. But it doesn’t need to be anything romantic. Can be just sex. Whatever you want.” He was doing his very best to stay calm, his brain finally catching up with his mouth and considering that he was now in way too deep to just apologise and about to get his ass handed to him at thousands of feet in the air by one of the best legal minds in the world.
You’d never wanted anything more in your life. It was almost like Bucky was dangling himself in front of you. A piece of meat before a lion that could be snatched away at any second. You weren’t going to give him the chance, professionalism be damned. You were out of your seat and onto his lap in a flash, your pencil skirt hiked up to allow you to bracket his legs in your own.
“Are you sure about this?” Your quizzed softly, giving him one last chance to back out before you lost all self control.
“Do I feel like I’m not sure?” His voice was almost a choked whisper, his hands landing on your hips to press you down against his stiff cock.
You’d never seen him like this before. Horny and needy and losing himself in the feeling of you on top of him after years of fantasies. He had tried to curb the fantasies but his body didn’t allow him to. You were all he could think of on those lonely nights, a hand wrapped around his cock, groans and whimpers escaping until he came over his hand, a cry of your name pulled from his lips. He thought you would never know. And now here he was, the woman of his dreams perched in his lap, asking to be taken care of. Even the filthiest parts of his brain couldn’t have come up with this.
He could never have dreamt how you moved forward so tentatively, your lips hardly even touching his. He was used to seeing you confident, in control, the calmest person under pressure and yet here you were, unsure of yourself for the first time, he imagined, in your life. You both kept your eyes open for a little while, your lips sliding together gently, getting a feel for one another, up until your teeth sank into the plush skin of his bottom lip and an actual groan left him, his eyelids fluttering shut. The sound could’ve made you quiver with need. It was so alarmingly sexy, knowing your huge, sexy PA could be taken apart with the smallest touches. Suddenly, this seemed to be as much, if not more, for Bucky’s benefit than your own.
“Thought this was for me, hm?” Somehow your condescending court voice was pushing him over the edge. You felt one of his hands come up, tangling in your hair while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling your core flush with his clothed cock. He kissed you with a burning intensity that made your head swim and your pussy throb, loving how he was taking control but still hurtling further into a breathless, needy state.
“You’ve no idea how long I’ve thought about this. Didn’t think we’d be joining the mile high club.” He huffed out a little light laugh, using his grip on your waist to help you roll your hips over his growing erection.
“Couldn’t have been thinking about this for as long as I have.” You smiled softly, letting out a little gasp as his cock nudged you just right through your panties that you were sure had been soaked through already. His eyes went wide at your admission, his dick twitching deliciously underneath you.
“Fuck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, making you laugh at how eager he was.
“I won’t be able to wait until we’re off this plane Bucky. You gonna fuck me right here?” You teased him softly, your faces so close, your tiny hands running down his pristine shirt, toying with the buttons. When you began to graze his chest gently with your nails, it was like a switch flipped inside Bucky. He thrust up against you with a growl loving the yelp you let out, one hand now squeezing your ass, the other massaging your breasts through your blouse.
“Gonna fuck all the stress out of you. Gonna have you leavin’ this plane leakin’ and cockdrunk.” Somehow you didn’t even doubt his words and you had to admit, it did sound quite appealing to give up the control for a while, just letting Bucky take over.
“Gimme all you’ve got Barnes. Gotta make it worth my while or this is gonna be the last time you get the chance.” You couldn’t help but tease him before instantly realising that might have been a mistake, his lips burning hot as they worked against your own, needy, insistent and as always, eager to please.
His mouth was relentless to the point that you found yourself practically dry humping his cock, your hands laced in his hair while his untucked your blouse from your skirt, greedily holding onto any skin he could reach. He tasted of peppermint and coffee, smelt like the expensive aftershave you were so fond of and felt like a man who’s only purpose in life was to make you cum until it hurt.
“Need you. ‘Nside me. Now.” You managed somehow to pant the words out between the fervent slide of his lips over yours, his tongue dipping in to taste you, never wanting this to end.
The feeling of your much smaller hands landing on his belt buckle made him look down but he could’ve cum then and there at the sight that met him. The front of his suit pants were slick with your mess, proof that he wasn’t just dreaming and you really were needing this just as badly as he was.
“You’re so fuckin’ ready for it aren’t you? Look at the mess you’ve made. Why didn’t we do this years ago?” He was groaning, shifting in his seat to help you get his trousers and boxers down. You couldn’t help how you gasped a little at the sheer size of him, his cock thick and long, the head slick with precum, proud veins running up his shaft. He looked Godly. Two firm pumps was all it took to have his head thrown back against the plush leather seat, cursing and bucking against your hand, aching for more.
“I’m sorry Buck, I can’t wait any longer.” You panted, his lips attached to your neck now, kissing, licking and sucking all his frustration into your skin. If there was a time for foreplay, that wasn’t it. Neither of you had the patience right now.
“Thank God, needa feel this pretty pussy.” He all but whispered as you lined him up at your soaking entrance.
“Shit Bucky, you got a condom?” You asked anxiously, stilling yourself at the last second.
“My bag, zip compartment at the front.” He replied quietly and sure enough, that’s exactly where you found a packet. Tearing the wrapper off, you slid it down his length earning another groan from the huge man who was practically shaking beneath you.
“You think of everything.” You giggled, finally beginning to slowly sink yourself down onto him. Your laugh quickly turned into a breathy moan, your breath mingling with Bucky’s and you noticed how he made a very similar noise. You pressed yourself down slowly, your body having to adjust to the stretch.
“So tight, fuck. Shit, never felt a tighter pussy in my life.” He whispered when you were finally seated on top of him. He pulled your skirt out of the way to appreciate just how connected your bodies were in that moment. His cock just seemed to fit perfectly, so snug you could’ve cried as you began to slowly work your hips against his.
“Oh my god Bucky you’re huge.” You should’ve been embarrassed by how high and needy your whine came out but right then and there, you didn’t care.
“It’s all yours sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so good you never need another cock again. Gonna ruin anyone else for you - fuck.” Under normal circumstances you would’ve chastised him for being so overconfident but feeling how his cock nudged your sweet spot perfectly, you thought he might actually be right.
“Gotta fuck you angel, can’t just sit here anymore, ‘s driving me crazy.” He just couldn’t keep himself still any longer, lust burning behind his eyes in a way you had never seen in him before. You lifted yourself up slowly, feeling his length slipping from you, your walls fighting to pull him deeper until you sank back down, taking the whole length at once. The strangled cry that left Bucky was incredible. You repeated your gentle rise and fall, setting a decent pace. Every sharp fall of your hips tore a needy gasp from both of you, the sweetest spot inside you throbbing from the almost constant onslaught. It was everything you craved. Bucky was grasping at every curve of your body, lost in the feeling of your soft skin and the grip of your silky walls and the smell of your shampoo as you rode him, building speed as your pleasure built in your lower belly. The wet sounds escaping where your bodies were joined was nothing short of obscene, only fuelling Bucky to meet each of your thrusts with his own.
“Oh my god, I -oh oh- I can’t, can’t take it Bucky please.” You groaned, manicured fingernails digging into his chest.
“I got you honey. ‘s okay. Gonna take such good care of you when we get to the hotel. Just want you to cum once for me now, okay? Take the edge off. You feel so good wrapped round me. You know what else I can feel? Your pretty pussy is leakin’. Feel you drippin’ down over my balls. Never felt anything so hot in my ‘ntire life.” His fingers fell to your clit, rubbing neatly as if he had been trained to do nothing else. You were on cloud nine, your high so close but not quite there yet.
“Bucky, gonna cum. Oh fuck!” You whined, your orgasm hitting you like a train. You came with a loud cry, eyes squeezed shut, rocking against him more than fucking so his cock stayed buried inside you.
“Shit, how did you get even fuckin’ tighter. ‘M so close.” He whispered against your neck, broken and needy. Your high had all but subsided, aftershocks still pleasantly coursing through you as you went back to letting your hips rise and fall so Bucky could finish. It only took four more well timed thrusts before he was cumming with a shout, pulling you flush against him as his balls emptied into the condom.
You were both spent and sweaty but more satisfied than you could remember being in months, your chest pressed to his as you both came down, craving a little extra affection. Bucky held you for a good few minutes until you felt his cock softening, knowing he really should get cleaned up. You let him slip from you, pulling your skirt down to take your original seat across from him again.
“Gimme a second.” He whispered, kissing your forehead before making his way to the little bathroom, returning a few minutes later looking just as put together as ever, apart from his telltale grin.
“Jesus, we should do that more often.” You smiled quietly when he returned, letting him settle in the chair beside you this time, the dividing arm rest pushed out of the way so you could cuddle as much as possible given the limited space.
“I can’t stop now honey. That pussy is addictive.” He smiled, happy to see you leaning so comfortably up against him but even happier when he heard your soft little snores.
Taglist:
@harrysthiccthighss @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @justatirednightowl @littlecanadianlani @babebr @sebsbrokentoe @badgirlwolfy
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crystalcow · 3 years ago
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𝐴 𝑠𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠//𝑀𝑐𝑦𝑡 ℎ𝑐
 Masterlist
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Mcyt x reader !hc !cc//Wilbur soot/Tommy innit/Nikki Nihachu/Sapnap
Pronouns used: gender nuteral!
Warnings: swearing, pure fluff!
╔═.✾. ═════════════╗
Seeing them for the first time
╚═════════════.✾. ═╝
𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝗼𝗼𝐭
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Your anxious about seeing him for the first time
The flight to Brighton felt like sick torment
You were happy that Will offered to pick you up instead of any of the others
Everything felt like it was going to go wrong
Your thoughts imploded and clouded your brain
He’s so perfect
What if your nothing better then a screen?
But once you stepped off that plane onto the cold marble flooring
Dragging your suitecase behind you looking around baggage claim
Then that’s where you spotted him
He held up this really cheezy sign with a cheeky grin plastered onto his face
“WELCOME HOME Y/N!”
Your eyes met as you dropped everything running up to him
He dropped the sign as you ran into his arms
He’s tall as hell so you latched onto his neck and your legs around his waist
He held you and brought your face closer
The both of you just begging for more touch
He felt as if everything was right with the world
“I’ve been planning this for months..”
≫∘❀♡❀∘≪
𝐓𝗼𝗺𝗺𝐲 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐭
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Oh god one of his best friends is coming to the uk
Someone hes talked to every day
Ranted to for hours
One of the people he’d trust with his life
He was anxiously checking his phone every two minutes as Freddie and Eryn are trying to calm him down
You on the other hand we’re just fine
Perfectly just contempt and going on your phone
So once you landed you texted him right
‘I landed go to baggage claim :D’
‘Okay see you then!’
So then you got your bag right and it was luckily the first one
But you didn’t see the familiar blond and his friends
So you left to get a burger
Damn you were hungry after that flight
So when tommy spotted you eating a burger at the airport mc Donald’s after searching for an hour
He shouted to you in the crowded airport
“HEY LOOK ITS Y/N HIIII Y/n!”
So you turned around wide eyes as everyone stared at you both
You just started laughing while he ran to you and you both just tackled each other to the ground while laughing
“I fucking hate you” “love you too toms”
(Platonically) 
≫∘❀♡❀∘≪
𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐤𝐢 𝐍𝐢𝐡𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐮
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You both have been planning this for so damn long
Not even joking you both have been planning since September
It’s now august
At first it was scheduling around your guys busy days
And then who’s country your going to
Then planning everything perfectly out
Just your luck airports shut down
You both were just hella anxious something would go wrong after all this time
So you looked her right in the eyes
You both just slowly went up to each other like a movie scene
Smiles prominent on your faces as you just grab her face squishing it to make the fish thing while giggling
And then she just wraps her arms around your waist as you both just hug and fucking squeal
Yes she makes you squeal the power this woman holds istg
Your both just holding each other for dear life making sure that your real
And then you pick her up
yeah people looked at yall Whats to it?
You just threw her over your shoulder while carrying your bag out
“Mine.”
“okay”
≫∘❀♡❀∘≪
𝐒𝐚𝐩𝐍𝐚𝐩
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This was a complete suprize
Dream was so fucking tired of you both being on FaceTime or vc at 3am
Mans just wanted to sleep y’all wouldn’t stfu
And he just looks at sapnap like with dead eyes whenever he says anything
Then he goes to the feral boys gc and just spam texts
‘Dude you don’t know how to flirt’
‘Is he talking to y/n again? Bro get some game’
no he’s all mine mwah. We should add y/n to the relationship
‘That’s only if sapnap actually talks to them right’
‘can y’all crackheads stfu’
And that’s how most of the conversations go
So Dreamy poo got on a call with you while using the excuse “an editing partner”
And he bought you a ticket to fLoRdIa
(if you already live there no tf you don’t)
So he saw you in airport while holding up a big sign
Yeah he bought one of those dollar tree signs and then had drista decorate it all nice
he cares sometimes
And then he was like “he’s crying in his bed right now, go save him”
You just nodded and got in the car stopping at McDonald’s first for a sprite and fries
So when dream brought you home you heard lil uzi vert booming through the house
So you creepily make your way to his room and you see him sleeping while holding a lil bear you sent him a while ago
And you straight up jumped on him sprawling over him as he just coughed awake
“What the hell dude! Oh wait”
Sapnap happy noises
He just like hugged you as you both cuddled and laughed
The absolute shock on this boys face
He just like flicked your head making sure it wasn’t still a dream
It wasn’t
❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥
Taglist: @bobaducky @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @uwucorpse @chaoticotaku @k-l-a-w-s
Ik Ik I’ve been dead and I’m so sorry! But I’m getting through requests and I’ve had a massive writers block! Here’s a post tho :S
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holyhex · 3 years ago
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“close as strangers.”
slightly based on the song by five seconds of summer.
Description — your soft spoken and flirtatious friend timothee watches as your co-star gets into his territory.
Warnings — (she/her) reader written as y/n, but (she/her) pronouns aren’t used, so should be interchangeable. chris evans x reader for a moment. self doubt. jealousy. playing with ones feelings. hatred directed towards characters. sexual themes & talk. angsty ending. ! ! ! eighteen plus, minors do not interact.
Authors Note — i’m keeping this angsty and decided no part two.
ꕤ ꕤ ꕤ ꕤ
The hotel lobby was where the two of you were stretched out, Timothee's long legs dangling off the side of the couch arm. Your body was placed perfectly in between him, barely meeting his feet at the end. His fingers were tangled in your hair, trying desperately to cling to the last moments you’d have together, at least for the next couple of weeks.
Usually it was him hopping on a plane cross country. This time you were the one leaving him behind; and that’s when his anxiety began to kick. The two of you were peas in a pod. Both of your managers laughed at how attached to the hip you were. If you weren’t lying in Timothee’s lap, his head rested in yours. Constant flirting, hand holding, cuddles and soft kisses; the two of you weren’t more than friends according to your conversations with the outside world, neither of you wanting to admit just how much feelings were behind each and every act of adoration. 
His mind began to race, knowing you were the new lead in an upcoming romantic film with one of the best actors in the world, Chris Evans. Strong and athletic, completely opposing him in every way. The confidence he held so dear with you was gutted for a moment, but he’d never let his voice waiver in front of you, not now anyway.
You were scrolling aimlessly through your phone as he gathered his thoughts together, caressing your jawline with his thumb as you lay near him, “How will you survive without me, mon amour?”
A pair of sleepy eyes were met with his, causing yet another sting in his already wounded heart, “come with me?” 
If prior commitments weren’t an issue he’d be on that flight with you in an instant. Wrapped around his finger was an understatement, and he hoped you knew just how much he wished he could be in the aisle seat next to you as you watched the clouds through the sky line. 
“I would if I could, you know that.” 
The biting of your lip almost caused him to weep. Plane rides were the bane of your existence and time was already running short, your manager tapping at his watch to indicate it was time to leave, “Need me to ride with you to the gate?” 
You shook your head, a pout forming as you began to rise from the couch, sad at the loss of warmth from Timothee, something you wouldn’t be connected with any time soon, “That’ll make everything harder.”
“Okay, drama queens.” Your manager spoke up from the door, trying his best to usher you outside, “I think everyone is going to survive.” 
“Says who?” you pouted once more, turning towards Timothee and rubbing your nose against his a couple times before placing a small kiss on it, something you two started the first time you started this situation-ship.
Timothee laughed, a long sigh following when you walked out the double doors and into the taxi, one last wave as he hollered to you, “Text me when you land!”
But you didn’t. 
Maybe you just didn’t hear him when you left. That would be the actual explanation for it, and his brain was messing with him. In all honesty, he was more scared than he wanted anyone to see. All the intimate moments you two shared, some closer than friends should be, and it made him confirm with himself what he knew all along. Friends don’t act this way. 
A couple months ago, the two of you lay together in a king size bed, white sheets covering your bare bodies, giggling in the moonlight each time Timothee’s lips met your neck. 
The white lace you wore beforehand stopped his heart as soon as your dress had faltered to the floor. Heaven is what you looked like to him in that moment, and he’d be an idiot not to tell you. 
Lips still roaming your neck, he smiled softly, searching for your hand and intertwining his slender fingers with yours, fitting perfect as can be, “You’re something of an angel, aren’t you?”
He watched as your smile fell, worried he’d said something wrong until you brought yourself forward and gave him kunik, just like you had done before leaving to the airport, pressing a kiss to his nose and then resting one on his mouth. 
It was enough to reassure him, the most perfect and intimate moment two could share, a core memory he held onto. The moment he knew how important you were to him.
The moment he knew he loved you. 
He’d thought you felt the same way, some unspoken rule between the both of you, because soon you were curled up in his arms, sleeping soundly as he hummed a melody to you, romanticizing each and every minute of this night with you. 
It had been three days since Timothee had heard from you. And the worst part was that each and every text message he had sent said the same thing. “Read.” 
The both of you were well known for your movies, so the busy schedule was the reason you weren’t answering. It’s what the sensible part of his brain tried to tell himself. However, the other part— not so nice. If enough time was there to read the message, there wasn’t one for a response?
Any other time he would think he was being obsessive, but ever since the two of your lives collided, the last thing you ever were was apart. Both sides of your team laughed that you were attached to the hip, and when you did have to be apart neither side would hear the end of it. 
Timothee had already chewed the ear off of multiple people, anxiously asking if he was being dramatic, which most insisted he was, until that fateful afternoon. After a long day in the press, all he wanted to do was escort himself back to his room. Praying you had answered his calls, texts, even the one email he’d sent in case you’d lost your phone and some stranger was the one reading the messages. He grimaced at the thought of someone besides you seeing just how clingy he really could be.
In his boredom, he scrolled through Twitter, seeing your name trending under his topics, smiling softly to himself. It was unbelievable that the entire world got to see you in the same light as he did, an angel in disguise—- until the picture loaded onto his scratched up phone screen.
Timothee’s heart dropped to his stomach.
Of course.
Now, everything suddenly made sense and he realized he wasn’t crazy. How ironic. Here he was in his hotel room, while you were filming miles away and he was the one living in the movie. The only difference was his was a horror film, each and every one of his mangled and anxious thoughts coming true. 
In the photo was the unclaimed love of his life. If you were just friends, why did it hurt so bad to see your back pressed against the wall, Chris’ muscular body hovering ever so slightly over yours, hand pressed just above your head on the brick wall in order to close the gap between you. He could hear your infectious laugh through the photograph, Chris’ lips whispering something in your ear much like he would do on nights that were meant for only you two and the flies on the wall. 
You two were adamant about keeping your friendship from the public eye, not wanting drama to break what you two shared, and that’s what twisted the knife even harder. Each and every twitter comment was shipping the two of you like no tomorrow. 
That’s when it clicked. You were ignoring him. No matter how many adoring fans screamed Timothee’s name, at this moment, his entire world had been crushed. Not only did you look ecstatic to be with someone who wasn’t him, it was someone who didn’t resemble him at all.
No long curly brown locks and hoodies. Instead it was short cropped, blonde and sweaters. Don’t even begin with the body types, something Timothee couldn’t physically control. The reason you ghosted him was because you met someone else, just like he was afraid of. 
He was sure Chris was a good guy, never once hearing a bad story from him in Hollywood, but he wished more than anything to kick him in his stupid, muscled stomach, that way he know the exact torture he was going through.
It was the worst feeling he’d had since the flu in the third grade. He was sweating, anxious, and numb, so numb he’d skipped the crying stage and immediately went into shut down mode. 
The blinds were closed in an instant, not letting an inch of sunlight inside his room. His next move was to cancel the next couple of days, coughing slightly throughout the conversation to sell his sickness off as a bed rest situation.
When he successfully did so, he replaced his outfit with a pair of his favorite sweatpants and grabbed a hoodie that smelled a little too much like you from his bedside table.
Even in his depressed state, he was hoping for closure, an acknowledgement, anything. That’s why he picked up enough energy to send his Chris’ girl one last text.
Congratulations. 
Read 4:45pm
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stevesharrlngtons · 4 years ago
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i measure time by days spent away from you.
roman godfrey x reader
summary: while you’re off on a girls weekend, roman is left missing you.
word count: 5.9k
a/n: ingredients: just sweetness. instructions: read when you are feeling sad. results: good feelings resulting in feedback 4 the writer (-:  
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“I can’t believe you’re being such a baby about this.” 
“Fuck off,” Roman grumbled in reply, moving to lay flat against the mattress with a huff. 
You just laughed and continued to fold clothes into your bag. You were very meticulous when it came to packing, wanting everything in your suitcase to be stored efficiently to maximize space. Roman always teased you about it. Although, each and every vacation taken together, he always complained that he couldn’t fit everything he wanted to bring in his suitcase. You’d counter his irritation by offering to help him pack next time, and he’d always roll his eyes stubbornly.
But, you wouldn’t have to hear his snarky comments or annoyed ramblings this trip, because you were leaving Roman behind in Pennsylvania. 
Destiny had invited you to her bachelorette party in Atlantic City for the long weekend, and you had happily accepted. You had been awaiting this girls trip for weeks and you were excited that it had finally arrived. You didn’t have many female friends anymore, having grown apart from the ones you made in high school and college, so the opportunity to have some good old fashioned girl time was overdue. While you and Destiny were close, you had never met any of her other friends. You were silently hoping to come out of the weekend with some new buddies, a few good stories, and plans for future adventures. 
“I just don’t understand why it’s three days…” he said, watching you riffle through the closet for a party dress. 
“Hardly,” you snorted, “I’ll be gone tonight, tomorrow and Sunday morning. You’ll barely even notice.”
The sound of you moving hangers around covered Roman’s pouted not likely.
Roman had been dreading your departure all week and now that it was here, he was stewing in self pity and pubescent angst. He didn’t want you to fly to New Jersey and go partying with a bunch of rowdy women, he just wanted you to himself. Which he knew was selfish and borderline unhealthy, but he didn’t really care. He liked you right by his side, slung under his arm, safe and sound. He wasn’t used to you going out with friends and especially not for so long. If you were out for an evening, you were back and in bed snuggled to his chest well before dawn. 
“I just don’t see why you can’t fly out Saturday morning, do whatever Destiny wants, then fly home in the evening,” Roman sighed, waving his hands lazily in the air. 
“What kind of loser does that? It’s like showing up for the birthday party and leaving before the sleepover,” you took a dress from the closet and walked to the mirror to pose with it infront of your body. 
“You hated sleepovers as a kid,” he argued. 
“I never wanted to sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor,” you shuttered, “but when I’m promised a nice mattress, along with tons of drinking and dancing? Count me in for the sleepover and all the party favors.” 
“So, what?” Roman pushed up to rest on his elbows, “You’re just going to get wasted and dance? You could do that here, y’know?” 
“You wanna go dancing with me, Rome?” you shifted your eyes from the dress to look at his reflection in the mirror. 
“You know I’d go with you if you asked…” 
“Then, we should totally go dancing next weekend, baby.” 
You turned to place the dress you had been modeling in your bag and Roman groused petulantly. He watched closely as you folded the slinky designer dress on top of your other clothing and toiletries, smiling when it fit perfectly. You mouthed your checklist to yourself, counting off on your fingers that you had everything you needed, before you zipped the suitcase shut. When you had finished, you shuffled around on your knees to look at him.
“What if I fly down with you and we could get our own room? Have some hotel fun?” he raised an eyebrow and you just shook your head at his pleading. 
“Ro, this is a girls weekend, meaning no boys allowed. Including you.” 
He once more threw himself back down on the mattress in theatrics. 
“You do know that Peter lives here now?” you walked over to the bed and hopped on to straddle his hips, “How can you be mad at me for leaving you to have a fun weekend with your best friend?”
“Peter has plans.” 
“I know for a fact that he doesn't,” you took Roman’s face on your hands and pivoted his chin to look at you, “so go out with him. Have some fun, get drunk, do whatever you can’t do when I’m here.”  
Roman let you handle him completely, his neck limp and suggestible. He stared up at you with sad emerald eyes. 
“What if I make some calls and get the jet? I could get it here in an hour and you could go to New Jersey and be home before dinner?”
You just smiled and leaned down to kiss him softly, “I love you.” 
“Is that a yes?” 
“It’s a no, but I still love you.”
Again, Roman slumped and sulked.  
You looked down at your moping boyfriend and kissed his jaw affectionately. You knew that Roman loved you, but you weren’t entirely sure why he was throwing such a fit about your leaving? Sure, he liked being with you, doing things with you, fucking you; but he wasn’t one of those partner’s who was lost without their other half. Roman did plenty of things alone, even went on the occasional business trip all by his lonesome and never put up this kind of fight before. 
You had mentally chalked it down as him being a possessive worry wart, which is why you already had plans to text him often to ease his mind. 
As you continued to lay soft kisses to his skin, there was a honk outside followed closely by a buzz of your phone. Your car had arrived to pick you up. Roman groaned as you sat up. 
“I gotta go, baby.” 
“Five more minutes?” 
“I don’t think I can ask the driver to do that,” you hummed as you pushed yourself off him. 
You went to the door and you looked over your shoulder to see Roman still laying down, a scowl on his face. 
“Are you gonna walk me down, at least? I’d like to say goodbye to you.”
Roman’s scowl deepened before he released a deep breath and pushed up from the mattress and walked to you. When he reached you, you made a move to grab your bags, but Roman beat you to it. He picked up your luggage without any haste and left the bedroom without a word or backward glance. You just rolled your eyes at his childishness and followed him, catching up with his long legged strides to wrap your arms around his waist. You pressed your cheek firmly to his back, and wound your fingertips in the fabric of his shirt. It made walking down the stairs a struggle, but Roman didn’t move to peel you off, which you appreciated. 
“You off?” Peter asked from the living room, lifting the remote to pause whatever he was watching on TV. 
“Sure am,” you said from behind Roman, giving him a gentle squeeze. 
“Have fun, will ya? Say hi to D for me.” 
“I will,” you grinned as Roman stayed silent. 
You could see Peter's face screw up with confusion on Roman’s stoic behavior, but kept his mouth shut on the matter, something you were thankful for. There was another honk from outside which prompted you to start to drag your oversized boyfriend to the front door. 
“Have fun!” Peter called again, his voice muted by the closing door. 
Once outside, Roman handed off your suitcase to the town car driver. The man took your luggage, then opened the backseat door swiftly for you to enter, waiting expectantly. 
“Give us a minute,” Roman said, dismissing the driver with a little too much hostility. 
The driver gave no indication of being offended by Roman’s tone, as he nodded and went to put your bag in the trunk of the car and then returned to the driver's seat. When he was out of sight, Roman looked you in the eyes. 
“You really sure you wanna go?” 
“Really sure,” you responded with a quick nod. 
“I guess I can’t talk you out of it then, now can I?” he frowned. 
“Roman, I promise you everything is going to be OK. I’ll be fine there, and you’ll be fine here.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” he slumped his shoulders. 
“Then what is it?” 
Roman just shrugged. Too stubborn to admit how much he would miss you. 
You sighed, “Well, whatever it is… I’m going to miss you.” 
Roman took his hands from his pockets and placed them on your hips. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll miss you, too.” 
You slid your hands up his chest to meet behind his neck, pulling him close. 
“I love you very much,” you placed a chaste kiss to his lips, which Roman chased. 
“Love you, too.” he returned, giving you a much longer, more passionate kiss. 
When you pulled apart, Roman spoke again. 
“Text me when you get to the airport, when you board the plane, when you take off, when you land, when you actually get off the plane, what kind of car you're taking to the hotel, get me the driver’s info if you can --” you interrupted his rambled list. 
“I will, I will do all of that and I will tell you when we get to the hotel.” you said in a soft, placating voice. You smoothed your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and felt tiny goosebumps form along the skin underneath. 
“Fine, fine, OK.” Roman’s jaw tightened. 
You leaned up and pressed your lips to the tensing muscle, “I love you and I promise to keep you posted, but I gotta go. I don’t wanna miss the flight.” 
Roman nodded stiffly, but said nothing. 
You began to wiggle away from his hold, when Roman decided to swoop down one last time to kiss you. You were sure the driver was retching by the sheer amount of times you both had done so, but you didn’t care. You loved this silly man and would drown him in smooches to his heart content before you left. 
When your final kiss ceased, you both with labored breathing and gloss swollen lips, Roman let you enter the backseat of the town car and shut the door behind you. 
As the car drove away, you unrolled the window and leaned out the opening, blowing him a dramatic kiss as you swayed your arm in the wind like a 19th century on looker to a parting ship. Roman watched you with a stilted smile until you disappeared down the road. 
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When Roman came back inside the house, Peter was waiting for him.
“So, the ol’ ball and chain is out for the weekend. What are your plans?”
Roman said nothing to him as he began to march up the stairs, hand clenching the rail. 
“I’m thinking strippers? Huh? Could be fun?” Peter walked to the staircase and watched Roman until he receded into the hallway without a reply. 
“Maybe rent the fight on pay-per-view? Get some beers?” he called louder. 
Still he only received silence. He rested his chin on the banister and waited a moment before he yelled, “Fine, be a pussy and cry that your girlfriend is gone!” 
The sound of a door being thrown open was Peter’s first response, followed by a verbal one. 
“I never said no, Jesus! So fucking fine, let’s go to the strip club, asshole.” 
Peter smirked as he heard Roman’s indiscernible grumbles before he shut himself right back into his bedroom. Roman liked to pretend he was complicated, but Peter could play him like a fiddle. 
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Roman was surrounded by body oil, neon lights and gyrating women. A few years ago, this would have been his heaven, his domain. But now, it all felt trivial and antiquated. It felt played out and pathetic. With the neck of a beer bottle cradled lazily between his fingers, he watched on as the beautiful women of the club stripped from their skimpy costumes and revealed themselves in new and arousing ways. 
Peter, who sat next to him at their small circular table, was transfixed by the women around them. Reclined in his seat with a smile on his face, his eyes followed the dancers as they spun around poles, as they groped and shook themselves. Roman knew that he should have the same appreciation for the dancers as his friend. He knew that he should be calling over the ones who eyed him up and down with lust, he knew that he should be paying for private dances until his bank account ran dry. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t feel like it, at all. 
Peter picked up on his friend's lack of enthusiasm when he found him slipping his phone from his pocket every few minutes to check for notifications. He let out a snort through his nose, one that was muffled under the booming music, but still heard by Roman. 
“What?” he asked as he tried to discreetly put his cell back in his front pocket. 
“Nothing,” Peter hummed, raising his eyebrows, “Just find it funny.” 
“Find what funny?” 
“That you’re so whipped.” 
“Fuck off,” Roman scoffed, taking a swig of his beer. 
“Sure, sure, whatever. It won’t make you any less whipped, though…” Peter smirked. 
“I am not fucking whipped.” 
“Yeah? Then why do you look like you just put your fucking dog down when you should be looking like a kid in a candy store? Huh?” 
“I’m just not feeling it, OK? These girls are ugly. If I see one more cesarean scar I might vomit,” he sneered. 
“These girls are all tens and you know it! You’re just being a pouty little whipped boy because your girlfriend’s gone.” 
Roman’s face hardened as he turned to glare at Peter, “Fine, y’know that? Fuck you, you goddamn prick. Have fun with these busted bitches. I’m out of here.” 
Roman shot from his seat and slammed his beer on the table, causing a few other patrons to look over. He was already gathering his things to leave. 
“Hey, hey, hey, cool down, bud,” Peter said, trying to pacify a Godfrey level tantrum, “I was just joking around, OK? I’m just bustin’ your balls, that’s all.”
Roman’s mouth pressed into a thin line as he loomed over the table with a glower in his wide eyes. 
“C’mon man, just sit,” Peter pleaded, “Don't be weird about it, just sit.” 
Roman eventually relented after a long pause, collapsing his long limbs back into his chair with a loud sniff, his posture rigid. Roman picked his beer back up and took a pull from the bottle. 
“Look, I really was just kidding around, alright? Don’t take it to heart or anything,” Peter said, leaning toward his friend so he wouldn’t have to talk over the music. 
“Yeah, Ok. Fine,” Roman replied, refusing to make eye contact by letting his gaze wander around the club. 
Peter sighed, “I get it, alright? I do. When you’re in love, things are different. You have blinders on to everything but that one person, and as easy as it is to make fun of, it’s not a bad thing, Roman. It’s good, and it’s a good feeling to have.” 
Roman finally looked over the table to Peter, whose gaze had wilted and saddened. He could practically see him thinking about Letha, her face forming and twisting in his irises. 
He swallowed thickly before he slapped Peter on the shoulder in a search to break the tension, “No hard feelings. I’m gonna head out for a smoke, yeah? And I promise when I get back I’ll have a better time. OK?” 
Peter pursed his lips in an attempt to ward off the bubbling curse of his fallen love's memory and nodded, quickly downing the remainder of his drink and calling a waitress over for another. 
Roman took his jacket from the back of his chair and headed for the exit. Once outside, he collected his pack of Marlboros from his pocket, then a cigarette and the lighter that fit snuggly beside each other. 
As he sucked on the filter under the club’s awning and fluorescent flood lights, he felt his phone vibrate. He scrambled to retrieve it from his jeans and read the text hurriedly. 
just got to dinner and im ordering a vodka soda and thinking of you. miss u already, ily!
Roman’s heart flipped and fluttered in a way that made his cheeks tinge with pink, while a smile fought to curl on his lips. As he quickly typed out a reply, a little voice in the back of his head told him that maybe Peter was right, maybe he was whipped. 
drink slow, baby, remember what happened in ibiza when you had to many lol
And immediately after
i love you too, keep me posted
When he pocketed his phone once more, Roman pondered. Flicking the ash off of the end of his cigarette, he decided that there were worse things in life than being in love with a woman, and being devoted to her. If that made him whipped, then so be it. Though, he would never admit that to anyone but his consciousness (even a bit painfully at that).  
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The sheets were warm with body heat and Roman had lost the cool side of his pillow hours ago. He tossed and turned. He shucked off the blankets, just to retrieve them moments later. His limbs danced under the sheets in search of comfort and a portion of the bed that wasn’t sticky with his sweat and a high temperature. His hips hurt from laying on his sides and his shoulders hurt when he rolled on his back. He was crawling out of his skin with discomfort and soreness as the moon illuminated the bedroom. Around 1AM, he had tried to close the blinds, but they only ever budged for your magic touch, and Roman had only mangled them into an unrelenting slope. 
Roman had checked his phone every ten minutes since he got under the covers. He had texted you a succinct good night around eleven and had received a jumbled good night in response. He had typed out a text that had bordered on passive aggressive, asking about how your night had been going and how much you had had to drink, but deleted it before he hit send. He was doing his best to avoid playing into the overbearing, resentful boyfriend role that he felt he was in. You deserved to let loose, he just wished he was by your side as you did (and not thousands of miles away).
He had typed another text out just after midnight, then another after the blinds incident, but deleted those as well. Part of his pouting was pretending that you didn’t want to be bothered by his messages, so he would just lock his phone and return it to the night stand each time. But, that was before the irritation had set in on his bones and just the thought of trying to fall asleep made his skin waver and blister. 
But he still didn’t text you. 
Because this time he called. 
He shuffled around as he listened to the phone ring in his ear, squirming under the covers as the top sheet seemed to be holding his ankle hostage. He felt an overwhelming urge to snap and strip the bed of its clothes and throw them all out on the lawn, when he heard you begin to pick up.
“Ro?” you shouted into the receiver, the loud blare of club music accompanying your voice. 
“Hey, you’re still out?” he asked, twisting his leg around erratically until his ankle was free. 
“I can’t hear you! Hold on,” you said loudly again, followed by muffled shuffles as you moved through the crowd.   
“Wait! Hold on! Roman! Wait!” he heard your far away voice say as you exited the club. 
The music grew further away and the static shuffle ended, Roman could finally hear your voice and only it. 
“Sorry ‘bout that,” you giggled.
“Having fun?” Roman asked, trying to mask his interest. 
“Yeah,” he could hear your shrug, “dancing is lots of fun.”
“You sound like you’re having fun.” 
“Well, I can be lots of fun after a few Moscow Mules,” you chuckled at your own joke. 
“Switched from vodka sodas?”
“Yeah, the other girls were drinking them so I thought, ‘Hey! Why not?’”
Roman could hear the sound of your high heels echoing on the pavement. 
“How are you getting along with them? No bad blood?” 
There was a beat of pause on your end before you sighed, “It’s hard to make new friends, Rome.”
“Did something happen?” Roman felt a flare of anger in his chest. 
“No, no,” you replied, “they’re nice girls, I think I’m just in my head about it.” 
“Are you sure, baby?” 
“Yeah, everything's fine, really. I am having a lot of fun.” you reassured. 
“You sure?” 
“I mean, they’re nice. They are… but they’ve all been friends for years, and I’m just this new girl coming in and trying to fit in with them. That’s the only bad part; feeling like I have to prove myself or something… I don’t know. Girls are weird,” you peeled away at the skin on your lip as you spoke. 
“They’re excluding you? The fuck is wrong with those fucking women? Who the fuck do they think they are?” Roman’s heart beat began to accelerate and suddenly sleep was the last thing on his mind. 
“No, of course they aren’t excluding me. Destiny wouldn’t let that happen and you know it,” you said, “it’s just… they all have inside jokes and years of history together and y’know, here I come, Destiny’s new friend whose main bond with her is weird vargulf trauma.”
“I swear to God, baby, if I hear anything about them bullying you, no one will ever find the bodies. I’ll drain those snotty bitches for you,” he swore. 
You replied with a light hearted giggle, “I highly doubt that will be necessary. But is there something very wrong with me, that you threatening homicide for me, sorta turns me on?” 
Your comment was the pin to burst the anger that had begun to balloon in his chest. 
Roman snickered, “No, at least not to me. I think that’s what makes us work together.” 
You made a noise in thoughtful agreement.
“Roman? Can I ask you something?” 
“Yeah?” 
“Why aren’t you asleep? You came home from the club hours ago.” 
Roman let a beat of silence come over the receiver as he collected his thoughts. He was slightly embarrassed by the reason, and while he had come to the conclusion there were worse things in the world than being whipped, he didn’t want you to know how whipped he was for you. 
“Jus’ hard to sleep alone,” Roman mumbled into his phone, picking at a loose thread on the duvet. 
He heard you snort a laugh and twinge of shame flared in his belly. 
“Ro, you sleep without me all the time! I’m the needy one who can never sleep without you, remember? We go over this everytime you go out of town.”
“What? So, I’m some frigid monster without feelings? I can’t miss you? I can’t possibly not be able to sleep without you because I’m such an unfeeling asshole?” Roman carped defensively. 
“Mm, baby, I love when you put words in my mouth,” you were happily drunk, so while this could have been said with malice and venom during a fight, you said it with warmth and giggles now. 
“I never said that you are unfeeling or cold or an asshole. You are sometimes, but that’s beside the point,” Roman grumbled bitterly as you continued, “You’ve just never brought up not bein’ able to sleep when you’re away, is all. You go to Tokyo quarterly and it’s never come up when you get home.”
A jumbled, muffled response came from Roman’s end as his cheeks burned red. 
“What? Ro, I can’t hear you?” 
“I said, I… Jesus, fine. I said that I always refill my sleeping pills when I leave, ok? I pop an Ambien or two and that’s how I can sleep away from you,” he confessed, “and I don’t know, I guess I forgot to refill them before you left. So, yeah, whatever.” 
You didn’t immediately reply to Roman’s admission and his stomach began to churn with hot worry. Rationally, he knew that you wouldn’t ridicule him or tease him for his attachment to you and his acknowledgement of it. But the irrational side, the side that grew up with Olivia Godfrey as his mother, who would dull out affection only as a form of manipulation, made him feel sick. 
“Oh, Rome,” you cooed, your voice tender and comforting, “I never knew that… I, that’s actually really sweet.” 
Roman’s shoulders dropped, “Yeah?” 
“Yes! I think it’s very sweet. We can’t sleep without each other. I think it’s cute. I think that means something.” 
“Something good?” 
“I’d say so.”
Intense warmth flooded under Roman’s skin and filled his body with loose relaxation. He could hear the smile in your voice, and he could see you swaying in your heels, propping yourself up on a brick wall that bordered the building, and he knew you were wishing it was him. He wished it was him, too. He had never felt such a perverse envy of brick in his life, because it got to feel your soft skin and caress your flowing hair while Roman was a million miles away, craving the taste of you. 
Roman wished he could curl up inside your voice, that he could let your syllables embrace and pet him, let your sentences of sweeter things and kind compliments rock him to sleep and help him forget how far away you truly were.
After a few silent moments of simmering in each other’s long distance affection, Roman reluctantly spoke.
“You gotta go back in soon?” 
“Probably,” you gave a heaving sigh, “I don’t want them to worry or anything.” 
“Or have them give you shit for being whipped,” Roman said with a forced chuckle. 
He knew that this showed another chink in his armour, that his vulnerability glowed from underneath his comment. Sleep deprivation and loneliness was taking a toll on his filtering ability. 
“Pft,” you blew out the sound from your lips, “they already know that I’m whipped, Rome. I’m not much of a secret keeper.” 
You disclosed this without any stuttered worry or fear. You told Roman of your love and devotion to him without having to grit your teeth or wipe your clammy hands on your pants. It helped him feel comfortable in admitting his affections for you, but it was still much harder for him than it was for you. He knew that he needed to continue to work on divulging to you often and regularly of his love, because whenever you did, it filled Roman with the most remarkable and indescribable feeling. The feeling of stability and trust and happiness and the giddy feeling of knowing that the person you love most reciprocates. And Roman wanted most in life for you to feel that same way. 
“I miss you, Rome. I love you so much, but I gotta go,” you said, breaking through his thoughts. 
“Yeah, yeah, of course. I miss you, too. I love you,” Roman hoped you could hear his sincerity through the phone and your drunken haze. 
When you hummed contently, he knew you had. 
“Bye, baby,” 
“Make sure to text me when you’re back at the hotel, ok?” Roman interjected quickly before you hung up. 
“‘Course, honey. I love you!” and with that, the line went dead. 
Roman still tossed and turned and ached for your presence in his arms, but your short conversation had helped him eventually lull himself to sleep. His dreams were filled with short vignettes of you, sparks and flickers of your face. 
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Just after mid-morning on Sunday, you gently stuck your key into the lock of your home’s door. You had texted Roman after you had boarded the plane home and when you landed in Pennsylvania, but you had yet to get a response. You were hopeful it was because your high strung boyfriend was still asleep, something you knew he needed.
After your over the phone heart to heart in the early hours of Saturday morning, Roman still only got fitful rest. Saturday night was much of the same, as he sent you a litany of text messages, ranging from attempts to sext to requests for Netflix show recommendations. You were beginning to feel slightly guilty for the sleep you were able to get on your hotel queen, but you mainly accredited your ability to fall into the grip of slumber from the copious amounts of alcohol you had consumed over the weekend. Even now, the effects of the alcohol still had you in a clutches. With sunglasses perched high on your nose and four Tylenol simmering in your stomach, all you wanted to do was finally be back in Roman’s arms and kiss him wherever your lethargic lips could reach. 
Once you had opened the door, you heaved your suitcases over the threshold and set your keys in the crystal dish that held Roman’s as well. You stretched your arms over your head with a squeaky moan, and inhaled deeply the smell of your home. There was something so comforting about coming home, no matter the extent of time away, and smelling the scent that your living space held. The smell that your senses accommodated to, the smell that you didn’t notice every day. Your and Roman’s shared home smelt like warm fabric softened linen and Roman’s favorite pine candle he had a stockpile of. It smelled like a hint of lemon from Anna’s disinfectant and a tad like cigarette smoke that lingered on Roman’s clothes. It smelled like Roman’s wafting cologne that made your knees buckle and your stomach flutter, and you swore you could smell your own in the air somewhere too. Maybe Roman had sprayed it in the air to comfort himself? You wouldn’t ask him if it was true, but it made you smile anyhow. 
You made your way deeper into the house, headed for the kitchen in search of a Gardorade and a granola bar before you went up to join Roman in your bedroom. Though as you rounded the corner to look into the living room, you were surprised to find Roman splayed out on the couch. Folded underneath his head was his pillow from upstairs, and draped over his lanky limbs was the thick duvet from the guest bedroom. The excess fabric pooled on the floor next to him, most of it having slipped off his body. 
Your heart thudded in your chest as you looked at him. His plump lips were spread and his jaw was lax. One of his arms was thrown over his head and the other over the back of the couch, while one of his legs had fallen off the cushions, causing his foot to lay flat on the floor. He must have been running on fumes for him to be so deep under while laying on the stiff designer couch so loosely. 
After a few more moments of admiring him, you decided to obtain your food before you went to wake him. Of course you had the option to leave him be, but you knew when he woke he would be angry if you came home and didn’t. That, and you wanted to be in his attention, even if it was just two and half days, you had missed him. 
With a few bites of your granola bar chased down by Gatorade, you walked over to Roman. You set your items down on the coffee table as you knelt next to his head. His nose scarcely scrunched and his eyelids twitched. You placed a gentle kiss to all three and he started to stir. 
“Roman? C’mon, wake up,” you whispered, brushing back a curled piece of his hair that had fallen on his forehead, “I’m home.” 
He let out a throaty groan as his eyes fought to flutter open. His adams apple bobbed and he pursed his lips before his beautiful emerald green eyes were revealed to you between languide blinks.
“Hey,” you grinned, finger combing his hair, “you finally get some sleep?” 
“(Y/N)? How long have you been home?” he asked, voice graveled from slumber. 
“Not even five minutes.”
“And you didn’t wake me?” 
“I’m waking you now,” you smiled, gripping his hair playfully. 
“Mmm,” he hummed, his arms that had been flung behind his head coming to grip you waist, “come here. C’mere, c’mere, c’mere.” 
You giggled as Roman grappled you with sleep soaked limbs to pull you on top of him. When he did, he brought his other arm down to snake around you, keeping you firmly to his body. You moved your hands up to cup his jaw, kissing him listlessly on his cheeks. 
“I missed you. Oh, I missed you,” you uttered and Roman’s arms tightening. 
“Fuck, God fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much,” Roman keened sleepily. 
You were sure he was being more candid because of how tired he was, but you didn’t care. 
“You’re never leaving again, ok? Never leavin’ my side again. Taking you everywhere with me from now on,” his hand skirted underneath the hem of your sweatshirt, his finger eagerly exploring your missed skin, “never letting you leave my sight.” 
“I’m ok with that,” you purred in his ear, kissing him with finality on his lips, “I don’t want to be anywhere you’re not.” 
Roman gave you a heavy lidded expression of pure bliss, “You make me happy.” 
“You make me happy, too.” 
You smiled down at him and propted yourself onto your elbows to get a better look at him, “Let’s go upstairs, baby. Our bed is better than this couch.” 
“Nah,” he groused, pushing you back down to his chest with a huff, “just here, just like this. Too tired to move.” 
“You sure?” 
“Yeah, things are better now anyway.” 
Your cheeks ached from smiling as you nuzzled your nose to the column of his neck and Roman’s chest rumbled with happiness. 
Roman’s fingertips pressed into your back with comforting pressure and his other hand moved down to slip into the back of the waistband of your pants to feel the skin of your ass. 
He felt such a flood of contentment, he wondered just how he had survived at all these past few days without his fix of your skin, your smell, your kisses and you. He buried his face into your hair and ignored the way some of it found its way into his nose as he inhaled. He ignored the kink in his neck and the pain in his shoulders and the fact that he had accidentally ripped down the blinds in the bedroom the night before. Because now, nothing else mattered except you. Roman wished he could tell you just how he felt, all about this feeling. He wished he could tell you how he loved you with the entirety of his being and that you truly made him happier than anything else in the world. He hoped he figured it out soon, but for now, he knew this was enough. 
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i hope you enjoyed! if so, i would love to hear your feedback (-:  and i know i am overloading you on fluff, but a very angsty story is in the works!
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bubblegumbi0tch · 3 years ago
Text
The Vacation
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Warrings: Creampie and public sex 
"Ladies and gentlemen, please clip on your seat belts and get ready for the time of your lives. The safety precautions are as follows on the screen. Thank you for flying with Peach Aviation, where every journey is exciting. The flight attendant's voice echoed throughout the airplane. After clipping on your seat belt for the landing to Brazil where Oikawa was taking you, you turned towards him. "You seriously want me to believe that this was spontaneous and not a planned vacation." Yup!" He stated, popping the p. "You seem thrilled today." You reported. "Obviously, you have put up with me for four years, and you are still here. "He smiled softly up at you. "Plus... There's the fact that I am about to get some." "Who said that? What makes you sure you are going to get some?" You unclipped the belt and got up, taking hold of your handbag next to you.
"What?! Seriously Y/N…princess?" He followed you out of the plane. What you saw in the open-air took your breath away. All around you, there are lush green mountains, sounds of seagulls, and the waves crashing entered your ears. The beautiful architecture is all around you. You turned around to face Oikawa, only to bump into his chest. His muscular arms wrapped around you stable. "Took your breath away, didn't it?" He questioned. "Happened to me too, just like the very first time I saw you, in that little black dress and heels during one of my first games, I knew I had to have you." He smiled down at you. It's beautiful, Tooru. I don't have words to explain, but it really is." You stated. "I know. When I talked to Hinata about a good place to take you, he recommended a nice beach. We visit him before we go. He stated. "Happy Anniversary, princess. "He whispered you. "Tooru, I don't know what to say. You really didn't have to do this." "You could express your gratitude by giving me a Thank-you kiss for one! "He smirked. You kissed him with all the emotions inside you. At that moment, it was just you two, two lovers kissing without any care, as their lips tangoed perfectly together. 
"You want to spend all your weekend here at the airport or actually go down to the hotel?" He pulled away. "It's a  five-minute walk from here." "Let's go!" You exclaimed excitedly and then dragged him down the out of the airport you're rolling luggage in hand and to the pathway, half cemented and half not. You marveled at the beauty of the scenery. It was stunning. The birds chirped, and the wind blew perfectly. He clasped his hand into yours. According to Oikawa, you were the prettiest girl he's ever seen. As the two of you walk both near the hotel's main doors, Oikawa checks in, and the bellhop gets your bags. As you open the door to your room, Oikawa suddenly stopped and turned to you, only to pick you up by the knees and the shoulder, bridal style. 
You squealed in surprise. "What in the heavens are you doing, Tooru?" You threw your head back in laughter. Carrying you inside our room, what else?" And then he spun around, with you in his arms. 
"Tooru !" You squealed again. 
"Keep practicing princess, you are going to need it tonight." This caused your checks to heat up. 
As Oikawa walked in further inside the room, your eyes slipped onto the glass wall on the opposite side, which gave you a perfect view of the ocean. 
"You know only married couples do this?" You questioned as you walked over to the wall. 
You heard him shuffling but paid no heed; you were far more invested in the view. "I know, but you have to admit you like it. Imagine being Mrs. Oikawa … Oikawa (y/n) has a nice ring to it, don't you think" he smiles. You nod at him. "Now, love, why don't we head over to the beach? We can watch the sunset together. As the both of you get changes, Oikawa's jaw drops the second you walk out of the bathroom wearing a bathing suit that hugs you in all the right places. Accentuating the best parts of your body. "Wow (y/n), you look amazing." You see his eyes sparkle a light blush cover his cheeks. You smile at him as he holds your hand, leading you down to the beach. 
As you walk down to the beach, you hear the gentle washing of the waves sings a lullaby to your ears. You have always loved the sound of the ocean, so serene yet holding so much power. 'Thank you again for bringing me here, love.' You tell Oikawa as he sets up a towel. "Anything for you princess you how much I like to spoil you." The two of you are sat on a towel by the beach, watching the sun paint its oranges and yellows in the sky. You were distracted by the sky that you didn't see Oikawa get up on one knee; he holds your face in his palm, gently Turing you to him. "Y/N L/N, my girlfriend, my love, and my heart. I know I am not the most deserving man on this planet. I have made my fair share of mistakes. But you have changed that. You have been a source of light in one of the darkest periods of my life, so today, I am asking you will you let me be your light? Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" By the time his speech ended, tears were streaming down your face.
"Yes! Yes! Thousand times, yes." You nodded. 
Oikawa got up from his position, grabbing your hand and slipping on the diamond on your finger. 
"You have made me the happiest man alive on this planet, Y/N." He stated. "I love you, Mrs. Oikawa."
"And I love you, Mr. Oikawa." He pulled you into a deep passionate kiss, your saliva mixing. When you pull apart, a string connects the two of you. You look around and notice that you two are the only ones left on the beach. That "Let's go swimming princess" he starts running towards the water. You feel your feet sinking into the soft sand. You pad after him towards the calm, beckoning water. Oikawa smirks at you. You screech into the quiet beach when he all of a sudden picks you up and carries you bridal-style into the sea. Bringing you further into the sea and complaining about the cold water. A droplet of water is trickling along the edge of his jaw; your focus is transfixed at its smooth descent to his chin. Your bodies are bobbing with the calm waves, up, down, up, down. 
Then your eyes lock, you feel a heat building up inside you. Oikawa looks at you and sears a mark in you, and it's burning like the flames of hell all the way down to your core. With the side of his finger, he doesn't need to so much as touch you to tip your head up his way because that's how willing you are. One tilt, that's all it takes to kiss him right now. His fingers are sinking into your tender waist, and immediately you need to feel inside you. "I love you, princess" He slides his cheek against yours and traces the bridge of your nose with the tip of his. He dips his face in closer to your lips, nearing one another. You taste the sea on his lips, salt, and cold. It feels like diving into the ocean, plunging into the deep blue, and simply allowing your body to be swept away. His kiss is greedy, hungry, willing you to submit to him and follow his lead. 
Legs wrapping around his torso in the water, his hands caress up your thighs to your ass, digging into your plump flesh with an ardor that releases damp arousal from your slit. Your own fingers grope down his chest and toy with his hair, scratching and tugging. When he nibbles on your bottom lip, and you know that you're done for. You melt like putty in his control, meeting his tongue with soft obedience you don't usually exert. Tooru .' You gasp into his mouth. 'I told you that you were gonna be screaming my name tonight, (y/n).' he says before diving back into you. Those words send the possessive animal in your mind wild with satisfaction. 
Because yes, he's all yours tonight. When you feel his stiff length poke underneath you, your cunt is set ablaze with desire. Desire to sink down onto him this instant and have him pound into you amidst the ocean until you both feel faint. The desire for him to break you in half with all his might, make your eyes water with from the pleasure he stabs into you. He holds you as the both of you walk to shore together. Lips never leaving one another's. His mouth travels down to your breasts, and he doesn't hesitate to devour them from your bathing suit, suckling angry red/ purple marks down your cleavage and around your nipples. Though clothed, the prominence of his big cock burrows between your wide-open entrance, rubbing against your bikini-clad clit and making you thrust your hips further into him. 
Enjoying the euphoria from his touch, you don't realize you're on land until he gently falls onto his knees and carefully places you on the towels below him. You pull him by the neck onto you. As he kisses a torching trail down your wet body, your mind is somewhere else in heaven that worships your fiancé Oikawa. His large hands kneading your exposed breasts, the wisp of his breath tingles down your stomach, tying a knot in your core. His teeth, he obscenely tugs lose the string that ties your bikini bottom together. The fabric falls loose lifelessly, revealing your soaking cunt, shimmering with want for him.
‘So wet (y/n) .’ He muses as he kisses your pelvis, finger stroking up your slick to gather the liquid of your arousal. Then he prods his finger into your mouth, your tongue compliantly lapping up your own taste, salty from the sea. 'Who made you this wet, mmm?'
'You.' You're practically pleading as he sucks viciously at your inner thigh, so close to your weeping pussy. I want you to scream my name by the time we're done." When he first links his lips to your clit, your hips buckle upwards, and fingers fly to entangle his chestnut hair. Sucking harshly on your sensitive bud, all you're capable of is squirming and writhing underneath him. The sensation of his mouth sucking on your succulence sends a shot of ecstasy down your quaking legs. Your head feels dizzy.
'"Fuck!' You whine. "You like that, princess ?' When he looks up at you, a wet smirk on his lips breathing hot air into your cunt, a coil winds in your stomach. T-Tooru.' Your grip on his hair tightens.
Then he's gorging you like a feast, tongue fluttering on your swollen bundle of nerves, your kryptonite, teeth scraping along your folds seductively. After several licks of your entrance, he pushes two digits into your gummy cunt. The ease in, lubricated by your moist walls that welcome the pressure of his intrusion into you like the open sea. He draws wide circles inside you, and it feels like your innards are being stirred to perfection by a metal rod. In the meantime, his assault on your clit doesn't falter, rhythmically hitting his tongue against you. Allowing the vibrations of his humming to penetrate your core. Looking down, this is simply the most beautiful sight you've ever witnessed. Oikawa's brown eyes glimpsing up at you hungrily, face buried nose-deep in your pussy. Hands gripping under your thighs that are rested on his shoulders, the beautiful scenery of the sunset, its glow onto you, and the ocean in the background play a symphony to your moans and his filthy slurps.
Suddenly, an explosion of pleasure arrives at your clit. 'Oh, fuck yes!' You screech, throat raw from the pure elation that washes over you. The throbbing in your cunt releases at his continuous friction, pulsating so wildly you think you will burst. His fingers pump out your high as he sucks one last time, long and hard, on your beating clit. 'Ah… Oh my god… Tooru…' he emerges from between your legs to breathe. You watch as your fluid dribble down his chin lewdly, your thumb swipes to catch the wetness.
'How was that?' Untangling his arms from your legs, he walks up on his elbows to meet your lips in a tender kiss.
'Wow.' You utter against his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head for dramatic effect. 'Let's continue back in our room.' Quickly you do up your bikini, impatient for more.
Without needing another word, Oikawa sweeps you into his arms, gathers all your belongings, and hastily carries you back to your hotel located just a minute away from the beach. Although, it takes much longer than a minute for you to arrive, seeing as multiple detours are made along the way, fondling behind a tree, kissing in the elevator, and missing your floor. 
And when you're finally in the confines of your shared room, he pins you to the closed door, not even bothering to switch on the lights, lips latched onto your magnetizing neck. Your wrists trapped in his grip against the hardwood, you ache to touch him as his teeth find your earlobe. Nipping at your soft round flesh, a pleasant shock is sent down your spine at the twinge of pain. 'Tooru…' You sigh. He pulls away to stare into your beseeching eyes. 'What do you want me to do to you, princess?' His voice is a low grumble of dominance, digging its talons into your brain.
'I want… I want you to fuck me until I cry.' In the dark of the room, your attention flickers to the sunset terrace outside. 'Right on that balcony over there.'
Something in his eyes ignites at your suggestion. Filled with lust, he brings you through the glass door that opens to the fresh setting night. 'You want me to fuck you right here, princess? For everyone to see?' Danger lurking one kiss away, you sense the precarious position his mind is at. So you reach down and grab his hard cock over his shorts and tip his mind to a carnal desire. 
'P-please, Tooru.' The name is the last straw for him. His breath hitches as you tug down his pants and allow his enormous cock to spring free. Spinning you around roughly, he bends you over onto the rail of the balcony and strips off your swimsuit in one deft gesture. From here, you have an unobstructed view of the coast, lined by bustling bars and closing restaurants. The neighboring terraces are a meters away; if anyone walks out now, they would horrifically witness Oikawa about to pound into you from behind. Your heart is beating in the excitement of the risk as well as the anticipation of his cock. Not being able to see him, he can thrust into you any moment now; he must be reveling in such control he holds. Then you feel it, his large thick round tip pressing against your entrance curiously. Your legs shake expectantly while fresh arousal leaks out of you, mixing with his precum he's plowing into you. 'Begone more time for me (y/n). Please, Tooru.' Allowing the words to drag out on your tongue, you twist your neck to look at him with large pleading eyes. He looks like a king, towering over you with this much assertion, relishing in the power he holds above you in this very moment. 
Hands holding your hips in place, he slams his thick member into your gaping tight pussy in one forceful plunge. You can't help but cry out at the sheer stretch of your walls he's spanning. fuck, he's so big he makes it feels like your first time together all over again. All you think at first is an incredible cinching of your core, the ache of him impaling his rigid shaft through the resisting pressure of your tight pussy. He's fucking massive. He seems to know it as well because he gives you a second to adjust to his size, palm scaling smoothly up the hill of your back to gather your hair in his hand. Then he is pummelling into you, hips slapping against your bottom, ringing such vulgar sounds in your ears. His cock, hard as if carved from marble, piercing through the pain and molding a thing of sweet, sweet pleasure inside you. You grip the rail so tight its edge gouges marks into your skin, your head hung low between your tense arms.
'Fu-uckk princess, you ohhh feel so good around me," he groans. At this angle, his cock is curving up the wrong way into you, jabbing in places that make you go crazy. A part of your soul is no longer with you, propelled elsewhere by his ceaseless merciless attack on your pussy. You feel a sting on your butt. He spanks a searing hot mark into your ass cheek. The sharp pain is refreshing alongside the dull ache behind the euphoric throb he is penetrating into you. "Princess, I love hearing your whimpers their so cute" Another slap echoes in your ears, and you welcome it by curving your back more to tip your tush higher for him.
'Tooru, you fuck me so good.' you egg him on further, stroking his ego as your tight squishy walls are clenching his dick. Pounding into you with such vigor and violence that your folds are beginning to sting. 
Moans that fall from his lips tingle at your clit, which you start to play with to add to your stimulation. Another smack on your ass, this time so surprising that you scream out. 'Yes, be loud for me. Let everyone hear how good I make you feel.' He coaxes. Oikawa begins to slow, which you know is a sign that he's close but doesn't cum yet. He bends over you, your hair still tied around his wrist, and nips at the shell of your ear. You've never known your ear to be such a sensitive area, for when his tongue flickers at your inner shell, a shudder convulses through you. Leaving slobbery kisses down the curve of your shoulder. 
You wanna Finish on the bed, princess ?' You nod, and Oikawa embraces you from behind; his strong arm comes under your cold lonely breasts that perk up at his attention, his wet cock sitting between your red ass cheeks. The hum of his deep rasp on your neck sends your head lolling back onto his sweat-covered chest. His lips seal yours as he walks you back into the room, leaving the glass door open for the night breeze to grace you. Amidst the rough sex, you treasure such a soft, delicate moment on your tongue, delighting in the way the tips of his fingers trace up your side. When his hand slithers up to your face, you melt into the warm flesh of his palm, mouth opening up for him to unfurl into.
Then the back of your knees hit the bed, and you know it's about to begin again. Without breaking the union of your lips, you clamber onto the sheets with his frame hovering over you. Grappling on his neck, you drag Oikawa on top of you as your head sinks down onto the plush of the pillow.
He sucks on your plump bottom lip one last time before pulling away. Fluid still profusely oozing out of the slit of his tip, he perches between your legs. 'How do you want it, my future wife?' His tone is endearing, yet eyes his eyes are hungry.
Impatient for him to fill you to the brim again, you lift both your legs up for him to grab and place onto his shoulders. 'Like this please, husband.' That's all you have to say for him to grunt okay and push deep into you, knees digging into the mattress. In this position, his cock reaches your cervix without hindrance, his swollen head slamming into your end every thrust he gives. It's a different type of ache this time, more targeted at the one sensitive spot inside you. As he continues, you thrust into you, balls swinging at your ass, a build-up of sensitivity gathers at your core.
You feel it approaching, that imminent contortion of your cunt, looming over you, on the brink of toppling your senses.
'Keep going.' You whimper the filthy feeling of his prick hammering so fast into you enough to bring tears to your eyes. You try to keep them open, watch his tongue poke out in concentration as he watches your body quiver under his. But the intensity of his fucking is truly too overwhelming that a single droplet leaks out and flows down your temple. 'I'm so close.' Oikawa moans, pecking the bone of your ankle. Something ruptures within him; with an even more arduous determination, he drives into your walls like a crazed beast. The sole purpose now is to reach the climax awaiting him; he spreads your legs open wide before him and rabidly plunges his twitching cock.
And for the second and third time this night, your orgasm hits you, one immediately followed by the other. 'Tooru, I'm-' You're a crying thrashing mess beneath him, drool dribbling out of your mouth and teary eyes, the ecstatic pleasure obliterating your mind into ruins as your cunt erupts. The string of profanities that leave you sound incoherent to your own hearing.
You won't be able to walk straight tomorrow; you're sure of it.
Oikawa watches you break on his cock, walls tightening impossibly around him. "(Y/n) I'm gonna cum. Can I cum inside you?" His thrusts start to get sloppy than what they were from the beginning. He starts to pound into and with one final thrust, he shoots his cum in spurts deep inside you. He pulls himself out a string of cum attached to his tip. He sees you haven't moved in your original position, still dazed out from what just happened. He spreads your puffy lips apart. He sees his cum seeping out of you and onto the bed. Oikawa leans down and touches your cheek; you snap out of your trance. "amazing, Tooru." You were too tired to finish your sentence. Oikawa smiles "you were fantastic; I'm so lucky to have you as my future wife." He kissed your temple and carried you off to the bath. 
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Drool
Warnings: Bad language words, painfully awkward reader, Bucky in a tux
Word count: 1279
A/N: This was written for @a-little-counter-esperanto’s Birthday Challenge!
The prompt I chose (and took a few liberties with) is “On the long flight to your best friend’s destination bachelorette, you pass out, drooling, on the shoulder of your seatmate.
When you arrive at the wedding, you are mortified to discover that your seatmate is the best man, and you spend the rest of the wedding weekend trying to avoid him.” Enjoy!!
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You weren’t sure how you got here in the first place. It’s not like you and Rachel were close anymore anyways. Somehow, though, you ended up with an invitation to her wedding. She had moved out of your hometown after high school, so you had to take a few days off to fly down to Miami. It was a long flight from Seattle to the first stop in Salt Lake City, but an even longer one from Salt Lake City to Miami. At least you had a book or two to keep you occupied . You had the aisle seat, and when your seat partner arrived, you had to get up to let him in.. You glanced over as he lowered himself into the middle seat and my God was he attractive. You had to tear yourself away from those blue eyes before you creeped him out.
“Hi.” He said.
Shit. Airplane small-talk. You were never good at small-talk. “Hello.”
He held his hand out. “I’m James.”
You shook his hand and told him your name.
“So, Y/N, what’s taking you to Miami?” James asked as he buckled his seatbelt.
“Wedding,” you replied, still trying not to look at him.
“Me too!”
You smiled politely, torn between wanting to hear his voice some more and wanting the small talk to be over. He decided for you. “Where you from?”
“Seattle. Had a layover in Salt Lake City. You?”
“I’ve been bouncing back and forth between Brooklyn and Louisiana, but decided to try Los Angeles for a bit. Definitely not for me. After this I’m going back to Louisiana.”
You nodded. “Okay. All over the place then.” You chuckled.
He smiled. God was he attractive. “Something like that. At least it’s all on the same continent.” You chuckled again, not wanting to pry too much into this stranger’s personal life.
As the plane took off, you turned your attention to the books you’d stuffed in the seat pocket. You grabbed one to start reading. As the plane reached cruising altitude, your eyelids felt heavy, and you dropped your book as you fell asleep.
You woke with a start. You were still in the air, so you had no idea how long you had been asleep. Unfortunately, it was long enough to notice that your head was on Jame’s shoulder, and some drool had creeped out of your mouth and onto his shirt. Wiping your mouth, you shifted your body so that your back was to him, praying that he wouldn’t say anything to you about it. It doesn’t matter, you told yourself. You were tempted to fall asleep again but the thought of drooling on the handsome stranger’s shoulder again terrified you. You picked up the book you dropped and started reading again.
Soon, the plane landed, and as soon as the fasten seatbelt light went dark above you, you scrambled out of your seat, leaving James without so much as a glance or goodbye. It doesn’t matter, you thought to yourself again. It's not like you’re going to ever see him again anyway.
You rushed out of the terminal and down to the baggage claim, praying you wouldn’t run into James again. As Rachel picked you up from the airport, she looked at you curiously. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”
You scoffed, knowing she wouldn’t let it go. “I’ll tell you in the car.”
Rachel was laughing behind her perfectly manicured hand. “Oh my gosh no way!” You were giggling, too, despite yourself. “He was so hot, and I drooled on him. Only me, right?!”
Rachel laughed. “Well, forget about him. I gotta introduce you to Steve’s best man. I think you’ll really like each other.” She winked.
You pulled up to the hotel where everyone is staying, and you grabbed your bags to go change for the rehearsal dinner when you heard a voice behind you. “Y/N?”
“Don’t let that be who I think it is,” you muttered under your breath. You turned around. It was James. Of course it would be. “Hello,” you said quickly as you stepped into the elevator. Unfortunately, he followed you. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you on the plane,” you replied shortly. “Wedding.”
The elevator stopped on your floor, and to your dismay, both you and James exited, and your rooms were across the hall from each other. As you plopped your suitcase on the bed to open it, you ask the empty hotel room, “Can this get any weirder?”
A couple of hours later, you realized the answer to your question was yes. It could. Rachel led you straight to him at the rehearsal dinner. “Y/N, this is Steve’s best man, James.”
“Hello, again, Y/N, call me Bucky,” James said with a smile.
“Again?” Rachel asked, but a quick look from you filled in all the blanks she needed. “Oh.”
Bucky tried to recover for you. “We met in the elevator and are room neighbors.” You nodded, grateful he didn’t mention the plane.
“Yeah,” you smiled, looking for any excuse to leave the conversation. Luckily you weren’t part of the bridal party, so you had a table on the other side of the room. At least now you could check him out from a distance. He made eye contact with you a couple of times, which you quickly avoided.
After the dinner, Bucky tried to get your attention as you dashed to the elevator. You heard him call your name as you slammed the elevator button trying to close it. It slowly closed, his incredulous look the last thing you saw as you slunk against the wall. You hid in your room. Maybe if you just read tonight, it would calm your nerves. You looked in your carry-on bag and found only one book. You sighed. You must have left the other book in the seat back pocket in your rush to avoid Bucky. Great. You flipped endlessly through the three hotel channels before crashing in bed for the night.
That next day was the ceremony, and as you sat among a bunch of people you didn’t know, your gaze kept returning to Bucky. Damn did he look good in a tux. You caught his eye a couple of times, but this time, you didn’t look away as quickly. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up and his eyes crinkle as he snuck a smile at you.
After the ceremony, you beelined to the cocktail bar. Sipping on a vodka cran, you watched as the other guests meandered to their tables. A voice behind you startled you, making you spill your drink on your arms, narrowly missing your dress. “Hey, Y/N— oh shit! Sorry!” You whirled around to see Bucky with a handful of cocktail napkins in his hand. “Here,” he said, patting your arms with the napkins.
You chuckled. “I guess this is payback for drooling on your shoulder, huh? I’m so sorry about that. It was so embarrassing.”
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all weekend, Y/N? Because you drooled on my shoulder on the airplane?” You nodded. “I thought it was because you weren’t interested. I thought you sleeping on my shoulder was pretty cute, actually.” After he helped you get as much of the drink off your body as he could, he said, “Go wash up in the bathroom, and I’ll save you a dance later?” You nodded again, and as you walked away, he shouted after you, “And I have your book!” Heat began to creep up to your cheeks as you giggled, shaking your head. Maybe Rachel was right about you and the best man.
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i-dont-want-your-hysteria · 3 years ago
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Up In the Air (Joe x Reader)
(surprise gift for you guys on Joe's birthday ^_^ I started this almost exactly a year ago, and it's finally done! Someone pointed out that I slightly hinted at the plot of this in my last fic post... you caught me.)
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Words: 4,028
Prompt: Spring, 1983. Joe has an opportunity in his sights, but as luck would have it, it does not go his way (or does it...?)
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(1983)
"God, it was so embarrassing!" Joe put his palms over his eyes as he whined to Sav. The singer was flat on his back in the middle of their bed, and Sav's back was against the wall opposite him. The bassist had his arms crossed in exasperation.
They were back in a fresh, new hotel room after another flight to another city. They'd been settled in for a while, and- as far as you knew- Joe was physically well. Emotionally, however...
"What are the odds that things were placed so perfectly for me today, and then-?!" he swatted the air above him, "That happens? 'Just my luck!"
Sav didn't consider it as dire of a situation as Joe did. In fact, he seemed rather entertained than sympathetic.
"That was out of your control, mate."
"I know it was, but-" he sat up, "Y/n was right there! How was I supposed to keep it together?!"
"If it were anyone else other than her, you still would've had to keep it together, you know," Sav tilted his head down, but had his eyes looking up.
"Well, you're no help," Joe grumbled, crossing his arms back at the bassist and flopping back down onto the mattress.
"There's nothing to help you with!" Sav took a seat at the foot of the bed, "It's not my fault you got-"
Joe sat up again in a snap, warning with a pointed finger, "Don't say it."
"I was just gonna say that I had nothing to do with you being-"
"Don't say it!" Joe pleaded again.
"Joe, it's not that big of a deal that you-"
"Sav!"
"Alright, fine!" Sav threw up both hands, shaking his head and narrowly fighting off a laugh, "I won't say it!"
A loud sigh came from Joe, his head hanging now. The heat of embarrassment refused to leave his face.
"...do you think she's still hung up on it, too?" his voice went quiet, and his tone adopted a sad air.
Sav raised his hand, rubbed his fingers together, and patted Joe's ankle reassuringly.
"It's hard to say no," he admitted, "I know I wouldn't have liked to be in either of your shoes today."
~(5 hours earlier)~
A hand took a grip on your right forearm without warning. It snapped you from the hypnotic, musical trance you'd been in for most of the flight. Having been placed next to the singer for the first time on an airplane, you knew it was his action without a doubt. You looked down and sure enough, Joe's hand was there- holding onto you just a bit too tightly.
Your free hand took off your headphones and you asked him, "Everything alright?"
The singer wasn't focused on you, or anything, it seemed. "Unfocused" was probably the best word you could think of to describe him. His head was slightly tilted downwards, but his eyes were fixed on the back of the chair in front of him. Despite that, it appeared as if he couldn't see it no matter how hard he tried.
You gathered this impression from a split second of looking at him, but as soon as he heard your question, Joe's hold on you was instantly released. His own trance was snapped as well.
"Yeah, yeah, sorry. I thought you were the armrest..."
"You were holding on pretty tight," you pointed out, "Something wrong?"
That same look on his face was back again; unfocused. His hand slowly found its way back to the armrest- now that he knew it wasn't your arm. You saw his hand shaking before he gripped it tightly.
"You don't look so good," you noted, adopting a frown.
He hesitated slightly before going very quiet, his face suddenly appearing pallid.
"Fuck..." Joe cursed himself, "I fucked up, I fucked up..."
You pressed again, "Joe... tell me what's wrong..."
He lied to you in a halting voice when a new blush seemed to form on his face, "Um... it's nothing much. There's just- something I haven't told you, and I should've mentioned it before we got on board. But I..."
He fell quiet.
"Yeah...?" you urged him to go on.
"I get... seasick- airsick... sometimes. Not every time, but... every now and then I do- and..."
He visibly swallowed, his breath trembling when he slowly shut his eyes.
Your eyebrows went up, alarmed, "And you're not feeling so good?"
"No, no, no...!" his inner voice screamed.
"Not really, but I'm fine, don't worry about me. It just happens."
His efforts to shrink the overall worry didn't work, as you instantly knew that if things went south, you were the only nearby acquaintance of his who could help him. You were also trapped with him for 2 more hours until you landed, so you would've had to help him if need be.
"Oh god- are you gonna be sick?" your hand raised up slightly to reach for a sick bag.
"No! No, I'm more dizzy than anything..."
"Well, take this-" you handed him a sick bag, "-and just try not to focus on your surroundings. And if you can't hold it down... well just keep it in the bag and away from me, okay?"
"...okay," he exhaled and took it from you, desperately hoping it wouldn't come to that. For fuck's sake, he was already embarrassed enough. He felt like a child. Even worse; he felt like your child.
Joe shut his eyes again and rested his head back on his seat. His whole body looked drained of energy, and you saw sweat forming on his forehead. It was obvious to you he was trying to make himself appear more okay than he was.
"I can do this," Joe nearly said aloud, "I can get through this without her knowing."
Unfortunately, for him, you already knew.
"The poor guy," you were thinking with sympathy, "Never knew he could look so ill."
You asked, "You've been feeling bad for a while, haven't you?"
"...what?" he squinted under his eyelids, lying to you again, "No, not really. Why, can you tell?"
"I don't wanna sound rude... but yeah, you kind of look like hell."
Joe quietly whined at your declaration.
"I know that look, Elliott- I've been in this position before."
The man next to you was intrigued by what you implied. He was suddenly beginning to think that maybe his situation wasn't as embarrassing as it appeared.
His eyes opened, "Wait, have you ever-?"
"Oh- no, I never get sick on planes, but you're not the first case I've ever seen."
"Great. This means she's stronger than me."
You held up your bottle, "You want some water? Maybe settle your stomach a little?"
Joe felt his stomach turn at the mention of liquid and shook his head, "No, I'll be fine..."
It was another lie, but you decided maybe it was best you just let him be. Perhaps he wasn't that bad.
Joe, on the other hand, was fighting the sickness with all the strength he could muster- hoping you wouldn't see it.
"Don't mess this up," he was telling himself, "She's right there. Keep it together and don't balls it up...!"
Going with your plan, you let him be, and put your headphones back on.
He took a deep breath, "Fuck, if only the seatbelt lock wasn't on... then at least I could hide in the bathroom..."
The Leppard waited in terrified silence for his ailment to subside. With the current turbulence, it was impossible. Every shudder and bump made him want to heave until there was nothing left in his stomach. Worst of all, there was no where he could run to; he was trapped.
Oddly enough, before the sickness hit him, he was actually excited to be trapped there.
It was no secret among the band members that Joe quickly developed a crush on you. What started out as a feeling of preferring you over anyone else in the crew soon turned into a reach for romance. There was no time for him to make a move in the midst of the tour, though, which left him to suffer in his teenage desire alone.
When he heard he would be seated next to you on the next flight, he instantly knew it was an opportunity he couldn't afford to waste. This was the first time he'd sat directly by you on a plane, after all. It was a brilliant time to make a move and bond together. He'd been nervous ever since he sat down, but he never got the chance to make a flirt or decent conversation before his body betrayed him. Yes, it was an optimistic opportunity, but now Joe wished it'd been anywhere except up in the air.
The stress of the situation only made him feel worse- but he wouldn't accept the fact that he was about to lose this divine opening.
Not 4 minutes of your music went by when the plane shook yet again. When it did, you thought you saw Joe suddenly move from the corner of your eye. When your head turned, you saw his fist pressed against his mouth, an arm around his stomach, and a green tint over his pallid face.
"Woah, you alright?" you took your headphones off again.
Joe only nodded, closing his eyes to reassure you (but also to reprimand himself under the surface).
"No, no no!! Stop being sick for fuck's sake! You won't have a chance with her!!"
"I'm good, I'm good," he swallowed again, wiping sweat off his bangs, "Go back to your music."
"Don't lie to me, Joe. You look terrible-! Are you sure you don't need anything?"
"I'm really not that bad, Y/n. Just a little... motion sickness..." his breathing became labored, and he angled his body as far to his right as he could. He began to fidget with something as he swallowed, "Ohh..."
The cabin teetering around him somehow made things even worse.
"Honey, I don't think it's just a little," your concern was peaked, and a hand was hovering over his arm, "You look like you're about to throw up or pass out, so how about we get you some club soda and you can rest, okay? If you want to, you can even-"
Joe was turned completely away from you, and had suddenly lurched forward to vomit into the sick bag you'd given him earlier. You knew that any hope of him holding back his condition was impossible now.
You'd initially flinched at his retching; cringing and holding your breath. Only a second passed until you remembered your duty; you were the only friend nearby.
"Uh oh-" sympathetically, you sighed and reached out to him, your hands holding his hair back, "That's not good..."
***
"I feel so humiliated... I was just- so deathly sick! I threw up twice, Sav- twice! And she was right next to me! I feel awful that she had to put up with it...! I feel like that's on me. She probably thinks I'm disgusting; she probably sees me as this huge fucking pansy who can't keep his lunch down while flying..."
"Mate, getting sick on flights isn't a personality trait, and I'm pretty sure Y/N knows that, too."
Joe, who was laying down again, scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"...I think this situation isn't all that bad, really," Sav shrugged, his voice going up in pitch to take on a suggestive tone.
"What on earth makes you say that?"
"It's quite obvious! I just think you were-" he adopted Joe's voice and air quotes, "-'so deathly sick' that you didn't even realize exactly what was happening...!"
"Really? How so?"
"Oh, don't even get me started, Joe."
*** Joe was laying against you now, exhausted from the physical labor forced on his stomach and throat. He was still pale and shivering, but finally willing to accept your advice and remedies. You'd ordered him some club soda (and some mints from your purse), and suggested he take a rest.
This left you where you were now. He had a hand on his stomach, and another one under your hand to calm him.
To say the least, it felt like having a nice, heavy blanket partially draped on you. You couldn't help but think it was at least a little funny. To most people, they'd be absolutely repulsed by a man with a weak stomach sleeping on them during a flight. You couldn't blame them, as Joe could still hurl at any given moment. However, the instinct to care for him overpowered any repulsion you may have had. To you, Joe was like a sick puppy, and you were the one who found him first. You knew he needed you in that moment, and you were okay with it. It was a nice feeling, to say the least.
Joe moved his head against you in his weary and mostly-asleep state of consciousness. A soft grumble vibrated from his sore throat.
Amid those circumstances that would normally gross you out, you managed to smile at him. That, and you gently squeezed his hand to reassure him that he was safe.
That pale, clammy version of the singer you were trapped with wasn't the form of himself he put on display to just anyone. This was a whole new side of him that you knew he never intended you to see; he was helpless. Joe had given in and finally let himself be helpless around you. You found it was rather sweet, and even somehow softening your heart.
It almost felt like a strange honor that not many people had the privilege of possessing, given that Joe tried so hard to hide it from you.
Him desperately vying to avoid your concern was typical for any one of the guys. Naturally, none of them wanted to appear vulnerable around you, but Joe seemed so hell-bent on keeping up his charade of feeling fine. You wondered what reasons he had for his strict act. Perhaps it was the intimate public setting that drove him to conceal his motion sickness at all costs. Maybe it was in order to save himself from certain embarrassment; you really didn't know.
Whatever reason he had, it didn't dwell in your mind for long. All you knew was that even with a half-dead, cold-sweated Joe on your shoulder, your heart was fluttering in a way that was even more inexplicable than his behavior.
*** "First of all," Sav held up a sassy finger at Joe, "She was the one who suggested she hold your hand, plus she held your hair back, plus she let you sleep on her shoulder and tried to make you feel better. Sounds rather tender, if you ask me. Tenderly intimate."
"I'll tell you what was 'intimate'-" Joe's grumpiness was still prominent, "-her watchin' me regurgitate my fuckin guts from 10 inches away!"
"But those were all girlfriend duties!" Sav bounced in his seat, trying to get the point across.
Joe finally fell silent. He sat up, and Sav could see the blush in his cheeks.
"...girlfriend duties?" he nearly whispered to the bassist.
"I'm right and you know it. Tell me those weren't girlfriend-ly actions! She got affectionate with you!"
Joe let his sight fall, then rise back up after a brief moment of pondering.
"She did, didn't she..."
"She definitely did."
Sav was smirking at him now.
Joe asked him again, "You really think she did...?"
"There's not a doubt in my mind."
"Oh-" Joe made a swatting motion and shook his head. He looked diagonally down at the floor, "She probably would've been affectionate to any one of us in that situation..."
Sav laughed out loud at his friend's comment. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was back at home, gossiping in Joe's childhood bedroom during a sleepover.
"Mate, when I had food poisoning last month, she didn't wanna get near me! But today, she was touchin' you and strokin' you and whatnot! Now that I mention it, I saw her smile while you were sleeping and holding her hand! Believe me, she wanted to help you. It was like she had an excuse to get close to you, just like you saw the flight as an excuse to get close to her."
Resting his case, Sav crossed his arms, tongue in his cheek.
They both remained quiet while Joe sat in thought. The pieces slowly began to fit together in his head, forming a train of thought he could somewhat follow.
"Suppose you are right; what do you suppose I do about it now?"
Sav could tell his argument was a success. His work there was done.
"That's entirely up to you."
*** You hadn't been awake that long, and were still pretty groggy when dawn began to break the next day. The unfortunate sensation of jet lag was beginning to catch up with you at that time, too. It didn't matter, because it was all part of the business. Your day would begin soon enough, jet lag or not.
After rubbing your eyes and throwing on your robe, you drew back the curtains and peered out at the misty morning. Thinking the hypnotic trance might wake you up more, you began to stare. Just as quickly, your eyes began to flutter shut again. Right before they did, however, there came a gentle knock at your door.
Blinking yourself back awake, you brought yourself to answer the call.
Initially, you found no one outside your room via the door's peephole. However, when you opened the door to search for anyone nearby, there came an unexpected surprise.
Rather than a person standing before you, a colorful bouquet of flowers lay on your doorstep. Of course, it was strange, but it also left you quickly growing bashful. You just hoped it wasn't one of your guy friends playing an early morning joke on you. Even so, your mind would be too cloudy to process that.
Looking around with sleepy confusion and flattery, you crouched down and picked up the bright bundle. You shuffled your fingers through the top of the arrangement to try and find a label or card that would give away the sender's identity. Eventually, you found the exact clue you were looking for; in the form of a small note.
The fresh, awakening scent of the blossoms wafted around you as you made out the handwriting.
"I'm so sorry I almost threw up on you on the plane! 🙁 -Joe"
It couldn't have been any more straightforward if it'd been put up on a neon sign. You chuckled out loud in the empty hallway and peered around to find a trace of the man in question.
Instantly, you found his eyes peeking from around the corner a few yards away. A guilty smile on his lips made him look so shy- in contrast to his average demeanor.
"This was really unnecessary, you know," the bundle was waved teasingly at him.
"I felt it was necessary," Joe's body slowly appeared more from behind the corner, "Considering you had no choice but to put up with disgusting ol' me."
Leaning on your door's frame, your eyes followed him while he strolled forward and leaned his shoulder on the wall in front of you. You both wore humorous smiles aimed at each other. If you could think any more clearly, you'd recognize this as flirting. Maybe it was- but it seemed oddly natural in that moment.
"Despite what you may think," your eyebrows lifted as you raised the bouquet up to your chin, "You weren't as gross as you expect. That, and you weren't any trouble."
"I just feel icky about the whole thing," he scrunched up his face and shrugged in disgust, "I promise it won't happen again- if I'm seated next to you."
"Don't worry about it, Joe. You just had a bad flight; everyone's got them from time to time."
"Not you, apparently."
Joe's smile turned rather bashful when he diverted his eye contact elsewhere. He silently chuckled with a hint of embarrassment. When you'd reassured him, he all of a sudden realized what Sav was trying to make him see. There was something in your eyes and your smile and your voice that just spoke to Joe; something that hit him and made him realize you wanted to be in the position you were in the day before.
You wanted to be affectionate with him.
Out of his daze, Joe spoke up after a brief hesitation, "So- um, I know it's early... but it's the perfect time for breakfast, so would you wanna go downstairs and get something to eat?"
"You mean with disgusting ol' you?"
"Don't worry-" his face almost went red at the cheeks, and his dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth, "You don't have to think about me keeping it down this time."
Your arm holding the flowers dropped down to your side as you broke up into giggles.
"I'm not worried- in fact, I'd love to go."
You couldn't be certain, but you swore you saw Joe's face actually go red that time.
"Cool! Cool. Did you wanna get dressed or-?"
"Well, you don't seem to be dressed either, so why should I?" you reached back into your room to place the bouquet inside. When you shut the door, you joined the singer, "Let's hit it before Mike and Mal take all the good pastries."
Joe showed his teeth in his grin when you came to his side and began walking.
"If they're all taken, I'll steal one for you- considering I owe you a favor after what you did for me yesterday."
"What did I do?"
The answer was simple, but Joe didn't know how to say it without implying his feelings for you.
"You nursed me back to heath- or at least tried to..."
"I told you not to worry about it..."
"Alright, alright, I'll try not to."
"I'll tell you something, Elliott," you giggled as you both got inside the lift, "You've got a strange way of flirting."
Heat rushed to Joe's cheeks, and more threatened to join them at the thought of you noticing.
"Oh yeah?" he laughed.
"You hope I won't notice every tiny effort, yet you keep doing tiny things to make me notice. Even if we're, for example- up in the air..."
"Oh, god..." just like that, Joe thought he'd be the first person on earth to die of embarrassment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Fuck- please don't tell me I was that obvious..."
"Calm down, don't make yourself sick again," you laughed and patted his back, "If it makes you feel any better... I did notice what you were trying to do on the flight. And- um... it worked. So..."
You stood on your toes, and lightly planted a kiss on his cheek, "Let's just say- you don't have to be sick if you want to hold my hand next time."
Joe's hand lowered from his face, and he quickly flashed a bashful glance at you before darting his eyes away.
The elevator doors opened, the smell of coffee seeping everywhere. Instead of walking out, Joe reached out to you.
"You said I didn't have to be sick next time, and I'm quite well now..."
A bashful smile of your own made an appearance as you took his hand like you did the previous day. When you did, Joe giggled to himself.
You glanced over, "What?"
With a pause, Joe rolled in his lips, then looked right at you, "Oh nothing. Just- if you get sick on the next flight, I guess we'll be even, then."
"So, you're gonna sit with me on the next flight, then?" you raised an eyebrow.
"If it means getting even with you, then yes."
"And if it doesn't mean getting even with me?"
"Well," Joe said, smiling widely, "Then the answer is still yes."
That answer was more than enough for you.
Strolling out together, hand-in-hand, you and Joe made your way towards the breakfast counter. In the corner of your vision, you noticed him snagging a pastry off of Mike and Mal's table when he passed by.
The end
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hereliescorri · 2 years ago
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I read something recently where someone was describing the common neurodivergent relationship to rules. And to be clear, I’m pretty sure this was like, a screenshot of a tumblr post and not from a peer-reviewed psychology journal or anything like that. But anyway, they talked about how ND folk basically have two modes when it comes to rules. If a rule doesn’t make sense and seems arbitrary, like it has no function except to just be a rule, we’ll blow it the fuck off. Hard pass. Not interested. At least in our heads anyway. I’m sure there’s plenty of ND people who’s fear of getting in trouble is stronger than they’re loathing of arbitrary rules, but mentally it’s a big middle finger. 
On the other hand, if a rule makes sense to us and we can justify it, we will absolutely follow it, and other people not following a perfectly reasonable and necessary rule (as we perceive it), will throw us into a rage — again, at least mentally. There will be an internal hissy fit, if not an external one. 
This very much resonated me, and it’s never more apparent than when traveling. People lose their ever-loving minds in transit, and it drives me up the wall. If you listen, you are constantly provided exact instructions on what you should do and where you should go, and people either don’t listen or just decide those rules don’t apply to them. It’s the little things, like the woman today who walked halfway up the walk side of the escalator and then just… stopped, causing everyone behind her to have to come to a sudden halt. Guess she was looking for the most comfortable step? Or there’s the people when the plane is landing that the flight attendants have to go tell to put their seat backs and tray tables up after it’s been said over the loudspeaker several times. The guy sitting adjacent to me not only had to be told that, but then as we were descending and even the flight attendants had to take their seats, he decided to get up and take his kid to the bathroom. We are about to slam into the ground at a bajillion miles per hour, sir. What are you, some kind of maniac?
It’s also worth noting that this man was traveling with his wife and four children, and when he realized we were able to exit out the back of the plane, he booked it out the door with his oldest teen son and onto the shuttle, where he placed his luggage in the middle of the aisle, sat down in the one available seat, and spread his newspaper out in front of him. Not gonna lie, I kicked the luggage out of the way so I could get by. As the shuttle doors closed, his son pointed toward the plane and said something in Icelandic — clearly, uh, dad, you fuck, you left the entire rest of the family on the airplane. Why are people like this?
When it comes to travel, there are a whole bunch of spoken and unspoken rules we are meant to abide by both to make things go smoothly and because the actual process of traveling fucking sucks and we want it to be the least painful it can be for everyone. But a large chunk of folks can only conceive of it being better for themselves, so they cut in lines, they take their time putting their bags in overhead bins while everyone queues for their seats behind them, they ignore instructions from flight staff, they play their videos without headphones, they cough into their hands or into the air. The lady next to me on the flight I just got off of kept shoving her elbows into my side and resting her newspaper on my face (apparently Brits and Europeans are still very much into newspapers??), then turning her head to cough on my tray table so she wouldn’t cough on her friend. 
My entire body protests. Some rules aren’t arbitrary. WE LIVE IN A SOCIETY. 
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wizkiddx · 4 years ago
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i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)
PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker​ --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link
Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader
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^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)
A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA. 
To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:
Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.
Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning
Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set
The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.
Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.  
The joys of success hey?
Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.
“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently
“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave. 
“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.
“You mean laugh at us?” 
“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.
Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.
“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.
“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable. 
“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed. 
“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend. 
“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.
“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially. 
“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid;  when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be. 
“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.
“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”
After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.
At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that. 
Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks. 
“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)
Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras. 
So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man. 
“You good?” His answer was predictable. 
“I’m so fucking shattered”
Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.
“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”
Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands. 
Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other. 
So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end. 
Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.
“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything. 
So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.
“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”
“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away. 
Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.
The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph. 
“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.
For fear of getting hurt. 
So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his. 
“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing. 
The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.
“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs. 
“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.
“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”
“Yeh me… me too”
And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.
What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.
It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.
Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.
Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else. 
So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep. 
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rommahh · 4 years ago
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Blanket Forts and Promises
{This is apart of the fratrry universe I wrote two parts of. It can be read without the prior two works but like...wheres the fun in that. I just wanted to write something short and sweet. There will be more of these two. Love, R.}
Word count: 1.2 k
Read I Carry Your Heart here
Spring break. Literally the best time for any college student. At least thats what its supposed to be. Harry and Y/N were supposed to be on their flight to the nice and sunny Florida until a huge tropical storm hit. It was so bad that hundreds of flights going into Florida were cancelled. Y/N was devastated by the news of her flight cancellation. She was so excited to be on a beach with her bubs. She couldn't wait for swimming with him, yummy tropical dinners with him, she couldn't wait to do...things with him…in their beautiful hotel room. In all she just couldn't wait to spend a beautiful non-school related trip with her boyfriend.
Y/N sighed as she hung up the phone with an airline representative who helped her receive her refund on the plane tickets. She laid on her bed back at the farm watching as the rain poured outside. Her school did not allow for students to stay on campus during breaks unless they had special circumstances- leaving Y/N to come home. Harry was back on campus in the frat house. Y/N would have stayed with him, but the frat house was the worst place to be right now. It was gross there, having been completely run down by boys.
“Y/N! Can you get me one of the brooms from the guest house? Take the truck so you don't get wet!” Y/N heard her mom yell at her. ‘Get the broom?’ Y/N thought confused. Why would her mom need the broom from the guest house. Deciding not to question her mom, Y/N threw on her thick rain jacket and mud boots before grabbing the truck keys and driving over to the guest house.
The guest house was a mile out from the main house and barn. Between the house was a field containing whatever crop her dad was growing. The animals on the farm roamed on that piece of land as well. Parking the truck on the gravel outside of the house, Y/N rushed inside to grab the broom her mother ‘drastically needed.’
Y/N’s mouth dropped in shock as she walked into the open concept house seeing a large blanket fort covering the entirety of the living room. Hearing the door slam, Harry crawled out from the mass of blankets, a smile on his face seeing his girl's shock.
“Harry? What are you doing here? Oh my gosh what is this?” She was amazed by the large fort, shoving her wet jacket and shoes off her body. Harry grabbed her arm pulling her into the fort. The fort was being held up by the two couches and a few stools from the kitchen. Sheets were used as the ceiling and plush quilts and comforters were used to pad the hardwood floors. In the middle of the spacious fort was a collection of pillows, snacks, fuzzy blankets, and Harry’s macbook and charger. Twinkle lights encompassed the tops of the fort, wrapping around from stool to stool. Y/N sat on the pillows in the middle of the fort looking around shocked.
“I know you are really upset about our trip to Florida so I wanted to do this for you. Also our anniversary is coming up so...yeah.” Harry sat beside her rubbing her thigh as the girl took in her surroundings. Suddenly she leaped out of her seat tackling Harry down onto the blanketed floor.
“Harry, you are so sweet. I love it but how’d you even do this?” She layed on top of his chest chin resting on her hands as his hands rested on her lower back.
“I called your grandmother and asked her if there was anywhere in town to stay because I knew Florida would get cancelled and she told me to just set up here. She actually bought all of the snacks and found extra blankets and pillows. She knew how special I wanted this to be for you.” He softly spoke looking at her eyes filled with admiration.
“This is perfect bubs.” She kissed him, their lips moving together perfectly. She pulled herself further up his body. Leaning on her elbow beside his head, he turned his head to reach her for more kisses. She smiled into the kiss at his eagerness. He reluctantly pulled himself away from her.
“I actually bought you some new pajamas and fuzzy socks to wear tonight- they match mine.” He grinned cheekily. Pushing her off, he nudged her towards the small gift bag containing the clothes. She plucked the bag off of the floor crawling out of the fort to change.
She came back moments later in her matching pjs and socks as harry. The pjs had cute little puppies on it making Y/N giggle at the sight. She sat next to Harry as he scrolled through disney plus in search of the right movie.
“I think you're looking for Black Panther.” Y/N jokingly whispered in his ear. His laugh filled the fort.
“Oh am I, I could've sworn I was looking for tangled?” His eyebrow rose as he continued the banter. He clicked on Black Panther, setting the laptop on top of a stack of flat pillows. He started pulling the snacks over ready to chow down. “Your mom made us sandwiches to eat. I swear I would live with your mom and grandmother for the rest of my life if I could.” He moaned at the sight of the thick sandwiches.
They ate so much food from sandwiches, chips, and sweet tea, to pieces of cake and assortments of fruit. Harry laid back full of all of the junk he ate. Y/N rubbed his full stomach chuckling at his extraness. They laid together watching her favorite movie on top of those fluffy blankets and digesting their food. Eventually, as two horny adults do, they both started to get handsy. Harrys hands drifted down to hold her bum and her hands brushed the muscle that stretches into his goodies.
He turned his head to look down at her only to find her already staring at him. He closed the space making their lips touch. This kiss was sloppy and rushed. Tongues pushed and prodded each other as hands touched intimate places. And just like Y/N wanted...things happened.
The next morning, Harry woke up wrapped in the arms of his girl. Her bare chest warmed the side of his face as her arms cradled  his head- fingers interlocked with his hair. Their legs intertwined with each other. Harry never felt happier in his life being wrapped in his lover's arms having shared a night full of laughter and genuine love. He detached himself from the girl and reached into his backpack. He pulled out a small box- smaller than a bracelet box- and just stared at it. Opening the box, he pulled out the promise ring he had been saving up for since christmas. He used all of his Christmas money and did some extra paid tutoring on campus to buy the simple jewelry. Its band was a pretty gold color, two strands twisted with each other to come together making a knot. Sliding back over to Y/N he slowly lifted her left hand and slipped the ring on her finger watching it as ifit on her finger perfectly.
He wouldn't propose just yet but he could promise her a lifetime of love and a commitment to carrying her heart with him everywhere he goes.
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brockadoodles · 4 years ago
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ho ho hopefully - t. seguin
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AN: This is like... PURE fluff. Pure soft, Christmas themed, fluffy fluff with our resident idiot, Segs. But like, kind of what we deserve for Christmas, no? Totally based on the BEST Christmas song in existence, Ho Ho Hopefully, by the Maine. Tagging the seggy queen @texanstarslove​ in this one, since I think she’ll enjoy it. It’s a bit shorter than most, but let me know what you think!
Word Count: 2222
Warnings: None.
December first, I’m in a foreign state, I’m running late, I’m all alone, wishing I was home with you, baby.
It shouldn’t have mattered. It shouldn’t have been a big deal to miss it. It was one year, objectively, you could start on December second, or third, or fourth, or all the way up until Christmas Day and it shouldn’t matter. But there was something about December first, how the first signs of Christmas would start popping up, with lights beginning to pop up on homes and trees slowly starting to be seen in the windows, families decorating together. You probably liked December first more than you even liked Christmas because something about that transitional time from autumn scenery into snow-covered streets that actually made sense was comforting, and with everything going on in your life as of late, the only thing you wanted was to be home on December first, with him.
Tyler knew that December first was special. He knew from the years of knowing and falling in love with you how your eyes lit up at the smallest things, like the first snowfall of the season, even though Vancouver rarely got snow. He knew from the way his own heartbeat faster around you that first year you insisted he help you with a tree, his own love for you he was trying to keep at bay trickling through to the surface. He knew that being home with you was inarguably the one thing you wanted, and there he was stuck in an airport lounge in Boston feeling the farthest away from you he could possibly feel on your favorite day of the year. 
Tyler looked out the window. His eyes were still as he watched the storm get worse and worse outside. Muffled airport announcements in monotone voices announcing delay after delay in flights. Boston was an eight and a half hour flight from Vancouver, and reality was settling in that his chance at maybe, just maybe making it to you with an hour to spare was steadily decreasing with each inch of snow that was falling onto the ground. 
Tyler knew when you started dating that it would be hard. The distance between Dallas and Vancouver was already a hurdle, but the added layer of his career and your own job made the relationship seem nearly impossible. It felt at times like you were two people dangling from a rope, trying to balance too many things at once simply just to be together. But he’d hear your soft voice on the phone, “I can’t wait to see you” murmuring from your lips and it made it all worth it, it made the time difference, the traveling, and the hardships worth it anytime you’d utter those words. 
He wasn’t even entirely sure how it happened, him falling so hard for someone who was almost always half a world away. Everyone in his life cautioned him against it, saying that there was no way it could work, you’re too different of people and too different of lives and it wasn’t rational. But Tyler didn’t care to be rational, because you were his best irrational choice he had ever made, and he knew he was lucky that he got to love you. 
Tyler held his head in his hands and tried to tell himself that it would be okay. He was still getting to see you later that month for Christmas and that was what mattered. But he also couldn’t help being unfathomably irritated at the bad weather that he couldn’t control, the watered-down shitty Dunkin coffee sitting next to him, and the repetitive cycle of delayed flight announcements ruining what was supposed to be an incredible surprise. The Stars had been in Boston finishing up a long road trip where they would now have two days off before a short home stretch of games. The timing had lined up perfectly so that if he flew straight from Boston to Vancouver, he’d get almost two days with you, one of which being your favorite day of the year. But now as he sat in the terminal, the hope of seeing you just kept dwindling bit by bit, and he was coming to the deafening realization that maybe it just wasn’t meant to work out. 
“Any news?” Tyler turned his head quickly at the voice coming from his left. Jamie sat down next to his teammate with a soft frown on his face. Tyler just shook his head and took a sip of his coffee, growing more irritated by the minute. The only thing getting him through it was knowing that even though his surprise was crumbling, you at least couldn’t be disappointed in it since you had no idea he was even planning to come in the first place. But what Tyler didn’t know was that Jamie Benn loved a lot of things, one of which being a classic romantic Christmas surprise, and you had been scheming up a surprise of your own. 
It was a last minute surprise, an idea that you had panickingly called Jamie over just the week prior. You had been going through what might have been the worst day you’d had in months, one of those days where every single event felt like the worst thing in the world. You remember curling up on your couch and crying as you looked through the calendar and Tyler’s schedule, trying to piece together how you could swing a surprise visit between their pre-Christmas packed schedule and your own lack of vacation time from work. It felt like the pieces weren’t fitting, and you were desperate to try. So that’s when you called Jamie, and he patiently combed through the practice schedule with you, helped you book a flight and promised to keep it an absolute secret from your boyfriend. 
The thing that Tyler didn’t know was that you were also sitting in an airport terminal with a shitty coffee in your hand, waiting anxiously for a flight of your own, the first flight of two that in six and a half hours time would land you back in the lone star state. The main difference was that there was no snow where you were, and all that you had to do was board the plane and show up, Jamie said he would take care of the rest. 
You had everything worked out, Jamie had made sure he wouldn’t suspect anything, his dog sitter knew when you were coming, and you had even packed a goofy Christmas sweater for him to wear while you hopefully decorated together. Long-distance with him was hard, but when the schedule seemed to allow for a quick visit, you gladly took what you could get, willingly ready to be tired from the flights even if it meant just a few hours with him. 
Each visit you found yourself breaking more and more when it ended, the days between were starting to feel dreaded. Your work was no longer enjoyable. It felt like you were stagnant in Vancouver, with most of your heart nestled safely in whatever city Tyler happened to be in that night. If you were honest with yourself, you knew that this was going to burn out, the distance was going to take its toll on the both of you, and sitting in that airport ready to go see him for the first time in a few weeks, you found yourself thinking for the first time about the idea of not coming back to Vancouver. 
Your phone rang in your hand, Tyler’s photo filling up the screen. You set your coffee down and slid your thumb across to answer, smiling slightly in excitement.
“Hey.” you hummed, hoping that your headphones would drown out any announcements about flights that were periodically coming through the speakers around you. The airport was busy, as was to be expected this time of year, but you had worked hard to keep this a secret from him and the last thing you wanted was a muffled airport announcement blowing the surprise fifteen minutes before you were set to get on a fight. 
“Hi, baby.” He sighed. You could tell something was off, you could always tell. You and Tyler knew each other so well, the distance between you forcing you both to pick up on things between each other. The things that were highs and the shifts in tone that indicated something was wrong, you both knew. You had memorized all of his little habits, from the typical stuff like how he preferred apples in his oats or how he had to nap at the same time before every game, to the things that people who didn’t know him didn’t have the privilege to see. Like the way he lit up when his sisters would call, or how he was really hard on himself, even when he shouldn’t be. You just knew him, all of his good things and all of his flaws and you loved him endlessly through all of it. You frowned slightly and opened your mouth to speak but he started before you could.
“I’m heading back to Dallas. Our flight was delayed, big snowstorm here.” He groaned. He hated that he was telling you this without entirely telling you why he was upset. But Jamie was next to him, and even if Tyler didn’t want to believe that he was right, deep down he knew the surprise wasn’t going to work, and as much as it sucked, he needed to just go back to Dallas and accept the fact that he would have to wait a few more weeks to see you not through a phone screen. 
“I just really fucking miss you.” He admitted and your heart cracked. You could hear in his voice how bad it was, and it only strengthened the feeling of stopping all of the distance between you altogether. 
“I miss you, too, bub. But, only a couple of more weeks.” You raised the tenor of your voice a bit, hoping that it would get him a bit excited about Christmas together. 
“Yeah, wish it was sooner, though.” 
You talked with Tyler for a few more minutes, tapping your foot slightly as you waited for your boarding number to be called. When you ended the call and boarded your flight, that feeling came back. The feeling of wondering if Vancouver could really truly be your home anymore when half of your soul was in Dallas. You spent the whole flight thinking about it, even though deep down you had no doubts about your decision. All it took to confirm it was his strained voice on the other end of the line, the pent of frustrations he was feeling about missing you just as much as you missed him. 
Tyler carried his bags through the entryway, exhaustion finally setting in right next to his already bad mood. Gerry, Marshall, and Cash came running up to him, excited to see him and lifting his spirits just enough as he greeted them and then combed through his mail that was sitting on the table. He tossed his bags down and kicked off his shoes, not wanting to bother with taking them upstairs yet. He knew that the dog sitter had left, he had told her when he was coming in. He was honestly looking forward to just relaxing on his couch, face-timing you, and going to sleep. He was supposed to be in Vancouver, walking up to your door and seeing you, and he didn’t have it in him to not sulk about that. 
He walked toward the kitchen, freezing a bit when he saw bags of Christmas decorations on the counter. He poked around, sifting through the various bags wondering who had dropped them off or if he had somehow placed an order for Christmas decorations that he forgot about. He got to one bag, a small brown one with a ribbon on the side. It was probably a gift, but when he saw the note with his name scribbled on the front he quickly opened it. 
We go together like the winter and a sweater <3 
He recognized your handwriting immediately as he opened the bag, pulling out a bright red sweater, laughing softly at the horrible snow-related Christmas pun that was screen printed on the front. He felt warm at how you somehow must have known he needed the pick me up. He kept combing through the bags, various ornaments, and knickknacks, and other decors were littered throughout them. He knew it was you, he wasn’t sure how you coordinated this but he knew you were the reason it looked like Christmas was about to throw up in his kitchen. He smiled a bit, his bad mood lifting when he realized what this probably meant. You probably wanted to decorate on facetime together, a compromise for not being able to actually be with each other and the idea melted his heart. 
Tyler walked over to the fridge, cracking open a beer as he unlocked his phone to call you. As the phone was ringing, the dogs started barking like crazy, running back from the kitchen to the front door. He didn’t think much of it until he nearly dropped his phone when he heard your voice. 
“Shh, shh, hi boys. Hi! Oh my gosh, hi Gerry.” You laughed, petting each of the dogs as you walked further into the house. You had takeout in your hands and were so focused on not dropping it from the dog’s excitement that you didn’t even realize Tyler’s bags were sitting against the wall in the entryway.
“You’re here.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, smiling big as he walked over to where you were standing. You were wearing one of his sweatshirts, his name sprawled across your back, a sight that he never grew tired of seeing and you were carrying bags of what appeared to be take out in your arms. You had slippers on and your hair up, an indication of how relaxed you were. He couldn’t help but internally groan, seeing how comfortable you were in his house, the one he wanted to be your home, too. You quickly set the food on the kitchen table, meeting him halfway. He pulled you in tight and you listened to his heart beating against your ear. 
“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re really here. I was going to surprise you.” He whispered, tilting your head up to kiss you. You smiled into the kiss, your heart already telling you what you needed to talk to him about. You didn’t have any doubts about it anymore. Dallas was where you needed to be. It was where Tyler needed you to be, and standing there in his kitchen with Christmas decorations littered all around you and him holding you like this, you were ready. Every buildup to this moment had led you here, in slippers in his kitchen ready to ask him to take another step with you, hoping that he’d grab your hand as he did so. 
“I’m really here. Jamie actually helped, he made sure I could get in and made sure you had no idea.” Tyler had never been more appreciative of his best friend. He should have known Jamie would have a hand in a surprise like this, this had secret softie Jamie Benn written all over it, and he adored you, often warning Tyler not to fuck it up with you. 
“Remind me to thank him, because wow. Best surprise ever, honestly.” He melted into you. He didn’t care if it was cheesy, or something straight from a bad Christmas movie. He’d watch 100 of those Lifetime movies because the feeling he was experiencing now with you in his arms was probably the exact emotion those cliche Christmas films tried to convey. 
“Tyler, I wanted to ask you something.” You said, pulling back just enough to look at him.
“Anything.” He kissed you once more, still in disbelief that you had pulled off a surprise when his had fallen so flat. 
“I don’t want to do this anymore, the missed calls, the flights, all of it. I just want to be here, all the time with you.” You smiled. Your stomach was bubbling with nerves as you studied his face for any reaction or reason that maybe he wasn’t ready for that yet. It would be complicated, figuring out how to actually stay in Dallas and be together. But a strenuous Visa application was the least of your worries if it meant that you’d finally get to be with him. Tyler grinned, picking you up and setting you on the table, kissing you hard as he stood between your legs. 
“Please tell me that means you want to move here.” He mumbled against your lips. You just kissed him once more. 
“There’s nothing else I want. Well I kind of want the food I brought, and maybe we could decorate for Christmas since it’s my favorite day, but like, definitely want to move here the most.” You laughed slightly as you spoke. Tyler just smiled at you, a breathtaking, heartfelt smile that made butterflies swirl around in your stomach. It was an exciting step in your relationship, and you couldn’t help but think about how much you loved December first again, this time for a new reason, because now it was the signifier in a new start with the person you loved. You didn’t care that it was only December first, because to you, this was better than anything you could have received on Christmas Day. 
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